The Journey

Photo by Gene Jeter In Genesis 11, we read the biblical story of the Tower of Babel and the group of people who in their arrogance believed they could build a tower that would reach the heavens in order to "make a name for themselves." This egotistical plan was soon thwarted by God in an interesting manner. He could have destroyed the tower with one breath or sent an earthquake to swallow up the little peons. Perhaps, even a torrential rain or a consuming fire could have destroyed their scheme, but God saw a different way, a better way. He "confused their language." No one was speaking the same language; therefore, they could not communicate effectively. The work stopped. The people scattered. In like manner, Christians today are speaking a different language. An independent, lone-ranger vernacular of self-gratification and idolatry more consistent with the I-Must-Fit-In Syndrome and God's-Grace-Is-Sufficient-So-I-Can-Do-Whatever-The-Heck-I-Want Disease that h

Photo by Ryan Franco If I could see all of you reading this, I would probably see raised hands, knowing nods, and shouts of "amen" would be heard worldwide. Who hasn't had prayers that seem to go unanswered? Several years ago, there was something I really desired for the girls and me. There was a need and I had formulated the perfect fix. So, I presented my well thought out plan to my Father outlining all the reasons He should do things my way, and waited expectantly for His royal stamp of approval.   Nothing. After several days went by, I cried out in frustration, "God, I have done everything I know to do to get your attention. I have prayed diligently over this and, Lord, I even fasted for three days. Nothing moves you!" His response? "It's your faith that moves Me." Huh. Human beings by nature are very manipulative. We know how to manipulate our spouses, parents, children, co-workers, teachers, and so on into getting exactly what we want or

Photo by Ben White I believe one of the most daunting things in my Christian journey is the art of being real, not with others, but with myself and with my Creator. This morning, a remarkably simple scripture sprung from the page and threw darts at my unsuspecting heart. Genesis 2:25 speaks of the time immediately following Eve's entrance into the Garden of Eden. It is written, "The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame." Wow! Many times, I have felt completely exposed in the presence of my King, but very few are the times I felt unashamed. Usually, I just want to run for cover as Adam and Eve did and hide behind the cloak of denial and feigned ignorance. Not wanting to admit difficulty with those besetting sins that continue to trip us up--gluttony, anorexia, jealousy, inadequacy, rejection, pride, insecurity, arrogance, vanity, alcoholism, drug abuse, or even standing in judgment of those who clearly do not have it all together, not by our standard

Photo by Nik Shuliahin Overwhelmed is the best word I can think of to describe how I felt yesterday morning. I awoke hopeful but before 9:00 a.m. I found myself in an absolute state of despair which manifested itself physically. Anguish so great my bones ached, and I could picture the elephant sitting on my chest. Extreme fatigue threatened to completely overtake me as though to wipe me off the planet permanently. A blanket of hopelessness draped itself around my shoulders and I nearly buckled under the weight of sheer helplessness. In the words of David, "Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal me Lord, for my bones are in agony." Dragging myself to the shower so I could be somewhat presentable to pick up my girls from school, I stood under the hot water letting it warm my chilled bones. As I set about the task at hand, a song rose from my belly. A song I did not feel like singing, a tune I could barely carry, a melody forced its way to my lips and I began to sing lo

Photo by: Tiko Giorgadze I love research. When something piques my interest, I am always compelled to dig a little deeper into the subject matter. Of late, I have been delving into the biblical book of Esther. There are so many takeaways and life lessons in just a few, short chapters. The narrative is as riveting as anything Hollywood or Disney could conjure up. My favorite Old Testament book chronicles the life of King Xerxes and his marital woes with a disobedient queen who would later be replaced by Queen Esther, a Jewish orphan child reared by her doting cousin in the Persian country. The Bible tells us "she won the favor of everyone who saw her." (Esther 2:15) Before becoming a royal bride, however, there was a two-part, purification process that took place over the course of one year. The prescribed beauty treatments consisted of six months of oil of myrrh and six months of perfume and cosmetics. Having only heard of myrrh in reference to the gifts presented at the bi

Photo by James Healy Fear is likely the most debilitating emotion one can experience. The distressing panic can creep into every part of our lives rendering us powerless, dominated, and controlled by fear. Fear of hurt, fear of loss, fear of rejection, fear of exposure, fear of lack, fear of regret, fear of failure. Our perceived inadequacies partner up with this demonic tool to keep us idle, sedentary, and silent. My prayers of late have sounded more like a timid child than a mighty warrior. Lord, I am afraid. Then, I ran across this scripture the other day and it has taken root deep in my soul. "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9 (NIV) I reread that first sentence a couple of times. These words would typically be comforting, warm, and fuzzy; however, I felt a charge in my spirit. A reprimand if you will. There have been times a stern word was r

Photo by Wesley Tingey Hello. My name is Brittni and I am a cop show junkie. There, I said it. My love of cloak-and-dagger mystery comes from both of my parents--my dad, the former cop, and my mom who was the murder-and-mayhem junkie first. Nothing agitates me more than to see the innocent accused, the little man squashed by the powerful tycoon, the unsuspecting friend betrayed by the ambitious fortune-hunter, and so on. You get the picture. I despise injustice. I do adore the biblical story of Esther because there are so many nuggets to take away from this story. When I think of Esther, my focus is typically on the young girl, shrouded in God's favor with destiny and purpose all over her life. One who undergoes extensive beauty treatments for a year in preparation for her King, which speaks volumes to a single lady. However, in reading the short, scriptural book this week, my focus turned to Mordecai, Esther's cousin, and guardian after the death of her parents. I encourage

Photo by Aja. As a rule, reflecting on the past is discouraged. Mourning over past relationships, losses, mistakes made can be destructive. Like David, I have cried out so many times, "How long, Lord?" I often wondered if my life's journey will be wandering around in the desert land circling these same mountains, fighting these same battles, tripping over these same obstacles. Will I ever make progress? Will I ever see the mountain top, the Promised Land? I am reminded of a time when my girls were both in diapers totally dependent on me for everything. Sometimes I would be become so frustrated wondering if I would EVER be able to enjoy a television show without interruption or be able to sleep without an invasion of tiny tots who would steal my covers and send me running for the sofa in the middle of the night. Now, however, they can go outside and play without constant supervision. They can prepare their own breakfast and get dressed by themselves. Of course, they stil

Photo by Tracey Hocking In a former life, I loved to entertain guests in my home. I still enjoy having company, but in a more relaxed, down-home manner without all the fine- dining hoopla. There was a time when I entertained quite a bit, but as life goes, seasons have changed, and single-parenting two kids has become my reality. So, I have not really had the opportunity as of late. Well, not until this morning. Before I finished my first aroma-filled cup of piping hot coffee, there were two, spontaneous visitors, each unaware of the other, heading my way. This NEVER happens and sheer excitement flooded my soul! That is, until I took a quick glance at my not so tidy surroundings. Now that I could see clearly without the sleepy and utter elation clouding my vision, I yelled, "O dear Lord, my house!" Disarray does not even describe what I was beholding on this glorious morning. I leapt from my cozy spot on the sofa with the Ninja swiftness that takes over like Superman headed

Photo by Garrett Sears Writing for me is a therapeutic outlet that allows me to pour out so that I do not continually pack down and pile on all the "stuff" that will inevitably be spewed on the next unsuspecting soul who innocently crosses my path or trespasses into a sensitive area much like stumbling into a field of land mines. Full disclosure. I write from a place of total imperfection. As the Apostle Paul so eloquently wrote in Philippians 3:12 (NLT): "I don't mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection. But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me." While traveling in this life, we often hit roadblocks that can stall, redirect, or completely hinder our progress all together. It is during these times, that we need to go back to the map for direction. For believers, the Bible is our reliable source for clear instruction. Every day we should take time to meet with our

Photo by Kelly Sikkema There  I  stood alone in my living room feeling completely stripped, naked. Once again, vulnerable. My emotions had betrayed me. My very own vow broken. The vo w that no one would ever be close enough to ca use this much pai n. Violent trembling commandeered my body while bile ros e in my t hroat as th ough I   would vomit, but only u nproductive heaving came. Every n erve ending stood to attention. Utterly and completely disemboweled, I had been g utted. After what seemed l ike an eternity, my eyes released the bitter t ears that spilled down my cheeks relentlessly for the next three days. I knew in my heart the only way I could emerge from this wreckage was to crawl up into the arms of my Father. Baring my soul and expressing the pain that I would typically stuff way down deep was raw, and it was U-G-L-Y, but it was beneficial. He washed me with the unstoppable tears until I felt cleansed. The sobbing waned and the panicked gasps for air turned into soft, muffl