Passion 2012: A Response

I feel like a refreshing wind has blown over me and filled my lungs with fresh air these last few days. The experience I had in Atlanta this week at Passion 2012 was, for lack of a better word, incredible. And, honestly, it's not fitting to say it was an experience, but rather an encounter. As I spent my days with 45,000 of my brothers and sisters in the Georgia Dome, I became increasingly more aware of God's presence and His intentions to speak to us, both at large as His Bride but also personally. As I sit here and reflect on what I heard from the Lord at Passion, I am overwhelmed. I won't go into everything now, but here are a few of the realities that took grip on my heart over the last four days:

1. The Lord's primary desire is to see Himself glorified, and married to that desire is His heart for the proclamation of the gospel and the establishment of justice among the nations. As a big fan of Piper, the reality of God's fundamental desire being His glory was not new to me, nor was the idea that God has a desire for the nations (a concept I studied last year in Perspectives). However, it wasn't until this conference that I realized the depth of God's heart for justice. A few books (The Hole in Our Gospel, Generous Justice, The Irresistible Revolution) had brought the idea to my mind a few times over the last few years, but it never clicked until now just how serious the Lord is calling His people to be about justice. I'll write more about this another time, because this was huge for me.

2. If I don't claim Truth, I will believe lies. There wasn't any particular teaching on this idea, but this reality kept striking me throughout the conference. Francis Chan spoke about the critical importance of being people who read through the Word again and again and again, which was really convicting to me. I realized that it's not enough to be familiar with the Word of God; we must be a people who feast on the Word continually, because this produces life in us. It really struck me that Satan desires to deceive us, and that he is very, very good at it. Lies and death push into our hearts without ceasing, and the only way to survive and thrive in the face of this is to be constant in our intake of Truth.

3. My weaknesses, imperfections, and areas of brokenness do not disqualify me from living a life of significance and influence. One of the lies I face again and again is the idea that because I am weak and imperfect, I will not be able to live my days out of significance and meaningful, positive influence. Often, I do feel disqualified, as if I have nothing to offer because I keep messing up in life. However, through various conversations with friends and other moments of reflection, I felt a great peace that God is taking my struggles and making them into areas of expertise for my ministry. I remember tweeting sometime last year, "The things Satan intends to use to destroy your ministry are the same things God uses to build and equip you for ministry." Oh, how quickly I had forgotten to hold on to that! I am thankful that God reminded me of that revelation and set my feet back the solid ground of that truth.

4. The time is now. The final major revelation I walked away with from Passion 2012 is that living out my purpose and walking in significance begins now, not later. In his closing message, Louie Giglio said, "Our culture teaches us that significance can't come until 'after... [fill in the blank (college, marriage, a secure job)].' But Jesus comes and says, 'Today!' Our purpose and mission are already established, and we are called to walk in it daily, starting the moment we gain life in Christ." I regularly wonder the purpose of life in regards to "today," and Louie spoke truth I desperately needed to hear concerning that--that we make our days purposeful and significant through our dedication to proclaiming and portraying Christ wherever we go. I also came to realize that experiencing, loving, encountering, worshiping, enjoying, and living in relationship with God day by day is also a fundamental part of the purposefulness of our lives. After all, that is how we will spend eternity, is it not?

All in all, Passion was a phenomenal encounter with the Lord, and I received so much from my time in Atlanta. I had a blast with my friends, worshiped with the largest crowd of believers I've ever experienced, and was pumped full of truth and encouragement. I'm sure I'll blog more these next few weeks as I continue to process the things I learned there. But for now, this will suffice.

My Unsatisfied Soul

Rooted deep within all of us is an unyeilding desire for satisfaction. We spend our days searching for ways to feel complete, happy, purposeful--satisfied. We look for satisfaction in so many different ways and areas. We pursue entertainment, pleasure, relationships, connection, power, success, religion. We are ever-looking for ways, people, or things to convince us or remind us that life is worth living, and when we lose people or positions or pleasures that played into our satisfaction, we may feel deep grief, and we are forced to ask ourselves once again, "What can I now gain that might satisfy me?" And so the search continues, a cycle of adding and subtracting, gaining and losing, wanting and needing.

A predominant saying in American Christian culture is that there is a "God-shaped hole in our hearts." We are taught that those who don't accept Christ can never be satisfied, because even if they have all the other compartments of their heart filled, they lack the final piece -- a relationship with God. For as long as I can remember, I have spent my time assuming that I had the metaphorical God-shaped hole in my heart filled, since I do have a relationship with God, but feeling very aware that other areas of my heart were still empty and needing to be filled. I have lived desperately searching and struggling to obtain satisfaction in my soul by trying to make and save money, to find a supportive community, to secure meaningful leadership roles, and, more than anything else, to find and develop a relationship that would lead to marraige. I have believed that God, plus these things, would give me satisfaction, and I have labored intentionally and strategically to achieve them.

The problem that I have encountered time and time again, though, is that these other areas of my heart that I keep trying to fill absolutely refuse to stay filled. I get one of the pieces in place, and I have a few days in which I excitedly think to myself, "Satisfaction is so close now." But, in time, that piece will fall away, and it devastates me. It leaves me feeling hopeless, desperate, utterly discouraged and overwhelmed with longing. I feel fatigue in my spirit, and I am broken and lost. I wonder is satisfaction is even possible, and I begin to believe that it is not.

I've been feeling this way for weeks now, and the weight is crushing. I remember other seasons in my life in which I have felt similar desperation, and I am discouraged by how frequent these "valley" seasons are. I wonder what I am doing wrong, and I can't seem to be content with people telling me, "God will provide these things for you in time. You just need to wait for Him." It all seems like one big game, and I feel like I am losing.

Over the last few days, I have come to one of the most difficult realizations I have ever faced. I have realized that there is not a God-shaped hole in my heart. I have realized that God is not a puzzle piece to my satisfaction; rather, God is to be mycomplete satisfaction. I have realized that Christians are not only able to be satisfied because they have the God-piece, but they are called to be satisfied in God, even when all other desires go unmet. If I never get married, or my marriage fails, or my husband dies, or if I find myself in poverty or sickness, or if I am lonely, or anything else, I am still commanded to rejoice. The Bible is overflowing with commands to rejoice, in both the Old and New Testament. Philippians 4:4 cuts me the deepest: "Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again--rejoice!" Always.

This realization is dreadfully difficult for me for one simple reason: I am not satisfied with God alone. This is a terrifying statement, because I am struck with the awareness that I do not know how to generate a sense of satisfaction in God in myself. Satisfaction is something that rises up within you, not something you can congure into being. Based on that reality, I realize the only way to obtain satisfaction in God alone is to beg earnestly for it, just as David did in Psalm 90:14-15 when he said, "Satisfy us each morning with your unfailing love, so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives. Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery!"

The definition of satisfy is "to fulfill the desires, expectations, needs, or demands of a person; to give full contentment." As I type that out, I begin to think about how I cannot even fathom what full contentment would feel like, because I have never experienced it. All this time, although I have had genuine love for God and a true desire to serve Him, I have had a wrong understanding of who God was to be in my life, and that has resulted in idols and dependencies in my life that produce unhealth and consequently lack of satisfaction in my soul. Today I understand that I must and canbe satisfied in God alone, and although I am not there yet, I hope earnestly that one day I will be and that my life will be a shining example of a woman radiant with the joy of Christ, who will say and mean that at the right hand of God there are pleasures ever-more, that God is enough, and that in Him life is abundant. One day I will mean those things, and until that day, I will labor and seek to know the one true God better, and I believe with great confidence that my faithful God will not leave me disappointed.

I Am No Better Than Israel

Whenever I read through Old Testament history, I am struck by Israel's lack of faith. Without fail, God will prove himself completely reliable, and by the next chapter Israel is freaking out, complaining, and worshiping idols, chasing after security and provision and blessing like God won't come through. Often, I think about this cycle and I feel superior. I fool myself into thinking I'm always full of faith and trust and focus. But there are other days, like now, when I'm humbled by the reality that I'm no better than the wicked, faithless Israelites from thousands of years ago. My faith is just as faltering. I feel it and I see it and I am broken beneath it.

Today I connect so deeply with the story of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness and God's provision of manna, for several reasons. The people of Israel where in the middle of a transition-- they had left their slavery but had not yet been delivered into the Promised Land. I feel like I'm in a similar place. I've been rescued from some bad circumstances and pulled away from some things, but I've not yet found a place to reside, so to speak. This can be applied to my studies, my relationship situation, my finances, etc. I know the Lord is leading me, but I have no idea where, and like the Israelites I am proving both impatient and faithless. When the Lord provided manna for His people, it was an incredible, miraculous provision. I can relate to that. I have seen God come through for me in countless ways. So many prayers have been answered. But just like the Israelites did, I find myself scrambling around, complaining, trying to stuff manna in my pockets for tomorrow and waking up to find it rotten. For God has commanded His people to trust in Him, not simply His provision, and God will never provide so much that it diminishes our need for Him.

I feel like I'm walking around carrying fistfuls of rocks-- in one hand desperation and one hand anxiety. Although I know the common phrases, like, "Lay down your burdens at the feet of God," I'm finding it to be incredibly difficult to actually do the things we so often say. I can't seem to empty either hand, and I'm running around like a fool, scared out of my mind that God won't come through for me, growing weary and consumed by my weak thoughts. I let lies stick to me, and I can feel in my spirit the separation it causes between myself and God. When you enter into the presence of God, either His truth will overtake the lies you believe, or you will choose to let your lies block out His voice. In order to be carried by God's grace in these situations, I have to release my steady grip on the things that tie me to the ground, and that is what I am struggling with. I can't seem to unclench these fearful fists, for in them I find some sense of security (false though it may be).

I hear and I claim lies every day. I believe that I will be alone, that I will be unhappy, that I will fail at the things most important in life, that I cannot change the world, that I am a disappointment, and that I am undesirable to both my God and the people around me. I believe I am powerless and unworthy and that this brokenness inside of me will never be overcome. I let insecurities control me, rendering me silent and still.

Every day is a battle. This is a war we are in, isn't it? I am thankful that the grace of God reaches farther and deeper than the darkness inside me, and in quiet moments He calms me and speaks to me and enables me to stand again. He has claimed me and He is equipping me to live in the Truth. I am thankful for the reminders that often I am too weak or stubborn to rest in. And I know that although I at times fail to believe it, I will overcome, because I fight from victory, not simply for it.

--

"Yet still I belong to you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny." - Psalm 73:23-24

"The Lord will work out his plans for my life--for your faithful love, O Lord, endures forever." - Psalm 138:8

Therefore, go...

I can't seem to stop thinking about this.

Jesus came and told his disciples, “I have been given all authority in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:18-20).

"Therefore, go..."

Photoshop Creation, 2011

Niki Mangan ©

Let's Change The World, Shall We?

You and I are called to change the world. We are destined to accomplish the impossible. We have been commanded to be agents of the supernatural, to perform miracles and to strike awe into the hearts of those around us. You and I have been given the task of overcoming the insurmountable. We are born to wage wars against the powers of darkness and to triumph victoriously. As children of God, we are the most powerful people on earth. Do you believe this?

Yeah, me neither. At least, I couldn't prove I believed it with my behavior. The truth is, if I really believed those things, my life would look radically different. When you truly believe something, you act on it. Every time. Belief precedes action and demands it.

I'm convinced that one of Satan's most clever strategies against us is to deceive us into believing we are only capable of surviving, that changing the world is only for a select few who are much stronger, smarter, talented, and wealthy than we are. If this wasn't true, we would not have so many churches full of people satisfied with mediocrity, accomplishing just enough to live comfortably and without guilty consciences. The problem with the Church today isn't that we don't see the problems surrounding us; the problem is that we don't believe we're able to be the solution.

I have been battling this mindset my whole life. Honestly, I love the idea of being able to accomplish the impossible. I love the idea of being a mighty vessel of God, of making history and living an inspiring life of sacrifice and obedience. But it's always just an idea, because at the end of the day, I don't feel good enough to achieve anything great. I don't feel powerful. I don't feel victorious. I don't think I can change the world.

The problem is, lately God has been telling me otherwise. It's very frustrating. All this time, I've been justifying my average lifestyle by saying I just wasn't made with the ability to do great things. And I got to a place where I was okay with that. I thought it was okay for me to be only slightly generous, to be a little bold, to be a tiny bit disciplined (because that's better than most people, right?) Then God had the audacity to tell me that wasn't the case at all, that I'm just lazy and faithless, and that every day I live my life in an average way, I'm living in disobedience. I told God he was being dramatic. Thankfully God is patient and forgiving, willing to pursue even the most stubborn of hearts.

I am slowly learning to believe that with God, I can change the world. Each day he opens my eyes more and more to the power I have as His child. While I am weak and incapable myself, God is able to work through me to accomplish his purposes each day. I am learning that God not only desires to save us, but also desires to teach us and equip us to be the most powerful people the planet has ever seen. When we surrender ourselves fully to him, he can help us overcome selfishness, weakness, fear, dependence on comfort, etc. "God arms me with strength, and he makes my way perfect... He trains my hands for battle, he strengthens my arm... You have given me your shield of victory. Your right hand supports me; your help has made me great" (Ps. 18:32-35). Although I am clueless, God is the Wonderful teacher (Is 28:29); although I don't know what to do, he has created me for specific good works which he will reveal to me (Eph 2:10); although I am weak, he shows himself strong (2 Cor 12:8). Like Moses and Jeremiah, I tell God I am not qualified for the things he is calling me to, and just as he responded to them, he tells me I have to do them anyway.

I believe it is time for the Church to wake up and be the solution to the problems we see so clearly. It's time to step into power. We can help solve poverty, we can feed the hungry, we can defend the helpless, we can father the orphan, the can bring the gospel to those who have never heard. We can perform miracles, even greater than the works Jesus himself performed (John 14:12). Do you believe this? I challenge you, dare to believe you can change the world, and watch as our mighty God uses you to do the impossible. Through His power at work within us, He will "accomplish infinitely more than we could ask or imagine" (Eph 3:20).

Do Something.

There are moments, when the summer heat surrounds you and the dark night sky is clear enough for you to see hundreds of stars above you, when looking into your heart and being honest with yourself can be ridiculously painful. You must be very careful when you are alone and everything is quiet and you realize you are small -- you must be careful to occupy your mind with trivial things or pride, or you might find yourself realizing your imperfections while at the same time realizing the vastness of God and the gravity of the things He is calling you to. Be very careful, because in those moments, you are at risk of seeing that you are capable of much more than you previously thought. You are at risk of facing the truth about God, yourself, the world, and your purpose. And once a person comes to a place where they are staring face to face with the truth, their life will be ruined. I speak from experience here, because I just had one of those moments, and I sit here now with my life interrupted. Here I am, aware that everything is about to change.

I guess in all honesty, when I strip away the drama and my attempt at being poetic, it's not really about a moment. Really, it's a culmination of moments. There's nothing magical about where I am right now, but I have finally allowed myself to feel the weight of what I've been processing lately. It's exciting to speak in vague terms about "change" and "growth," because with words like that you can make yourself sound wise, and I at times convince myself in my arrogance that I'm inspiring. However, although talk makes me feel impressive, the reality makes me feel incredibly broken. Admitting you need to make changes is the easiest part of transformation. You can talk all day long about change without actually moving into action, but at the end of the day, that's nothing other than words. What really sucks is when your conviction reaches a point where you actually have to start moving forward and letting go of things and demanding more of yourself. Tonight, that's where I find myself, and I couldn't be more terrified.

I am terrified that unless I stop reading the Word, stop praying, stop paying attention to the world's needs, and stop engaging in conversation with other believers, I will become convinced that the work of God is worth dropping and forsaking everything to pursue. This concept of abandoning things and running in a direction opposite of my comfortable version of the American dream is plaguing me. Each day I realize more and more the lust I have for luxury , the faith I lack, the power I reject, the disgusting tolerance I have for injustice, the disobedience I try to justify. I am seeing for the first time that it's not enough for me to simply live a good life and love God, that I'm called to live a radical life of loving God and people not just in word but with my hands and my feet and my mouth, every day. I am realizing that American Christianity doesn't have all the answers and that it isn't doing everything right. I am realizing, regrettably at times, that God is not especially concerned with my comfort or making provisions for my flesh's desire for pleasure.

This is a difficult, painful, frustrating, terrible, beautiful place to find myself. I finally see that in order to change the world, you have to do more than think good thoughts and have good intentions. I'm seeing that being a person who says these things and lives a life that matches up with my words involves living sacrificially, giving generously, encouraging uninhibitedly, and possibly even going indefinitely. It means letting go of what I've considered "rights" for all my life, downgrading my standard of living, refusing to pursue pleasure over purpose, and being obedient even when I don't know where it's going to take me. It means taking my security out of the world and out of myself and placing it in God alone. It means that and so much more.

Under the clear night sky, my heart weights heavy. I can no longer write or speak these things without taking steps to strip away the parts of me that inhibit me from joyfully serving God with everything in me. It's time to lay down some idols, like money, relationships, success, comfort, entertainment, among other things. It's time to do something instead of just saying something.

This is going to get interesting.

Africa, You Have Stained My Soul and Opened My Eyes

Tonight I feel as if my heart is about to burst inside my chest. This afternoon I drove to the airport and said goodbye to a group of my friends leaving for Uganda. As I watched the shuffling of passports and suitcases, I swallowed the lump in my throat as I thought about how just a few short weeks ago it was me leaving for Africa, nervous and full of enthusiasm and passion. I've been back in America for four days now, and I've woken up each morning early with the sun, hoping to find myself in Ethiopia with my team scurrying about, asking about breakfast and complaining about noisy goats. When I wake up enough to realize there's no mosquito net over my bed and that I'm siting in complete silence, alone in my room, my heart sinks and I feel a yearning I've never known before. Everyone told me transitioning back to America would be difficult, but I could have never anticipated the stain Africa would leave on my soul. My friend Chris told me that once you go to Africa, you never really feel at home in America. I wish I could say he was wrong. It feels like Africa is clinging to my very being, the way the dirt stuck to my skin and wouldn't wash away with water.

For the first day or so back in the States, I simply felt numb. As I answered questions and showed pictures, I couldn't feel anything. There was no emotion behind my words or my thoughts. All I could do was present the facts, and the personal memories seemed locked away. Even now, I haven't told anyone the details of even a single memory. As I type this, hot tears swell in my eyes and fall down my face as I remember conversations, victories, people. Incredible sadness hits me when I consider the reality that I might never see my friends and family there or walk Bahir Dar's streets again.

Although I've been home for several days now, I'm just now beginning to process my time in Africa. It's like it just hit me today that I'm not there anymore, that it's just a memory now. I cannot express with words the way I feel right now. I am filled with joy for the work that was accomplished during our time there, yet my heart is broken for the work that still needs to be done. I've never understood so clearly the condition of this world, and now that my eyes have been opened, I am left with this incredible since of urgency and absolutely no idea how to act. My time in Africa made me question everything, and it made me want to be a part of the solution to the problems I now see. The thing is, I am so small and so far away.

Right before our last night in Ethiopia, two of my team members, Derick and Brittany, and I sat outside with our primary translator, Kassahun, talking. The others in our group had gone to bed, and it was getting late. Before we called it a night, I asked Kassahun, "What final word of advice would you give to us as we go back to America?" He thought about it for a moment and then replied, "Jesus is coming back soon. And you must live like that is true." I feel like more than anything else I experienced in Ethiopia, that moment will stick with me the most -- hearing those words and seeing my friends' faces in the moonlight, aware of everything around me and wondering how I could embrace the significance of what was just said. It seemed so simple, but really, it's not. That's not the kind of statement that you can hear and just nod and agree with and then walk away without changing things. Honestly, those words present the most incredible challenge possible, and to agree with them fully demands I change so much of my life. It means dropping my trivial pursuits, abandoning my selfishness and my obsession with comfort and pleasure, and charging forward to help fulfill the great commission at all costs. If I'm honest with myself and with you, there is so much in my life that needs to change, and it took me going to Africa to see that.

Currently feeling: Replaceable.

Oh God, oh my God, will you save me?

Still Fighting, Still Healing

It's been two and a half months. Part of me feels like it's only been a few days; another part is overwhelmed by how slowly it's come along, with the second hand ticking far too slowly, mocking me. When you're hurting, you wish you could fast forward, not necessarily to a different time, but to a different feeling.

This has been the most difficult and trying time in my life, and I don't say that lightly, because I vividly remember times of loss I've come through. I remember in seventh grade when I broke up with a guy and he attempted suicide and blamed it on me. I remember when my boyfriend was ripped away overnight my freshman year, gone for eighteen months in a correctional boarding school with no communication. I remember the nagging uncertainty and disappointment I felt throughout that time, the pain I felt from being lied to and deceived, and also from a lack of closure. I remember how long it hurt. I remember my parent's divorce and all that it entailed, the way it made me question everything. I remember senior year when my boyfriend of a year and a half said, "I don't want to do this anymore." I remember the nights I cried and begged him to change his mind. I remember literally not getting out of bed except for school for an entire month, the way my life was on hold.

I am not new to grief. I know that things hurt for a while and that healing comes. The reason this time in my life has been the most difficult is not necessarily because it hurts more that all the times before, but because of the way I've responded to that pain. Before, I didn't know how to deal with pain. Sometimes I just sat in it, sometimes I fought it by struggling to change my circumstances back to "normal," sometimes I slept through it. This time, I have done something very different, something much better, but significantly more difficult. I've faced my pain, surrendered it to God, and I've sought the Lord with every fiber of my being, every day for two and a half months.

Shouldn't I be saying how comforting the love of God is, how this is exactly what I should have done from the beginning, how amazed I am by the healing work of God? The thing is, all of those things are true, but I have never in my life experienced the enemy so strongly. The struggle and the battle I have had going on in me these past few months is what has made this time so trying, so exhausting, so unbelievably difficult. Not only have I had to deal with grief, which is very real and very heavy, I've had to deal daily with the persistent attacks of Satan, trying to prevent me from continuing on. You see, when you're hurting, and you don't really seek God besides reading a few Bible verses from time to time, you don't get much opposition from Satan, because you're not much of a threat. But a suffering Christian who seeks to deny themselves every day, who wakes up to worship God for His greatness despite immense pain, who prays earnestly and pours over the Word... this Christian is an incredible threat to the enemy.

I've never experienced this kind of attack before. I am hurting and grieving, still mourning the loss and disappointment, and on top of that, I have a powerful enemy throwing challenge over challenge my way. There is a very significant difference between this time and the times of pain I have experienced before. Never before have I had to deal with so many other things in addition to my grief. The second you overcome one obstacle, another is thrown at you, often larger than the one before. I've faced things I never dreamed of having to deal with -- feelings of incredible guilt, raging anger, terrible unforgiveness, hopelessness, loneliness, unbelievable fear and anxiety, crippling doubt, a heavy absence of peace, and so many other things. These things rise up, and I know they are not of me. They scream at me to abandon my pursuit of God, to take the situation into my own hands; they scream at me to pursue pleasure and to worship idols; they tell me I will never heal and that I will be alone forever. They tell me my best days have come and gone. Seriously, that is how I feel. Almost every single day. The devil does not take breaks, nor does he grow tired.

Here's the thing, though. And this is incredibly significant.

These past two and a half months have also been the best months of my life. And I want to cry when I type that, because my emotions are absolutely saying that is not true at all. Nothing about this time has felt good. In number, the moments of peace are nothing compared to the moments of pain. The depth of my sorrow is so great, penetrating into the most sensitive parts of my heart. But I am learning not to assess my life purely on emotion. My feelings are deceptive, and my emotions are undoubtedly Satan's strongest weapon against me. Despite the way I have felt, these past few months have been rich. I have never had closer fellowship with my Creator. In fact, I am thankful for this pain, for the way it has pushed me to study the Word, memorize the Word, preach and claim the Word. The truth of God's character has taken deep root in my being, because I have believed it despite the draw to believe what my emotions tell me instead. I have never worshiped so passionately before. I have never prayed so fervently. There are nights I cry literally for hours, overwhelmed by my emotions and my desire to go back in time to three months ago, before the change. But every night when that happens, I draw myself up, turn on the light, and I read the truth from over fifty post it notes on my wall, and I urge myself, like David, "For my God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him, my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust at him in all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us" (Psalm 62:5-8).

This past Sunday night, I was feeling very discouraged, wondering why I was still hurting after such dedication to appropriate healing and constant submission and trust in God. I went to church, and during worship I came close to breaking down. But a woman walked up front and started praying, and her words resinated in me so powerfully. She said, "God, I feel there is someone here who is burdened, wondering why heaviness is lingering for so long, wanting to be relieved but not finding relief. God, thank you for the pain, and help anyone dealing with this know the purpose of the pain is to prepare them for something greater, whatever that may be." She kept praying for a moment after that, but I didn't really hear anything else, because that spoke straight to me. I don't know what exactly God is preparing me for, but I am believing it will come to pass exactly as He intends for it to.

These days are still a struggle. I am not done fighting and not done healing. When I admit that, I gain freedom from trying to impress everyone with how much I have it all together, because I totally don't.

But I am learning. I am being made new. And it hurts, terribly, but I know in time, peace will come, understanding will come, and healing will be complete. Until then, I continue to believe and seek the truth. God is good, and He is doing a great thing in me.