The Influence of a Pastor | A Celebration of God's Redeeming Work

Paul tells us in Philipians 4:8, “ Finally brothers, whatever is true whatever is honorable whatever is just whatever is pure whatever is lovely whatever is commendable if there is any excellence if there is anything worthy of praise think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me - practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.” My goal in these next few minutes with you is to honor Josh through glorifying the Lord’s work in and through him.

On January 8th of last year, Josh asked if I would be willing to speak on his behalf at his funeral. It's no surprise that he was already planning and preparing for his homecoming.  I argued with him as I often did that his request was unfair. After all, he was supposed to be the one to speak at my funeral. We laughed about it and made a deal. His words I’ll never forget, “How about we say… whoever goes first.” I obliged , still feeling confident I would win our bet and he would be the one speaking at my funeral one day many years from now. I stand corrected here today as I am speaking on his behalf. Although I'm still a little mad about it, I am grateful for the opportunity.

I imagine the reason he asked me to speak was probably the same reason I asked the request of him first. I want my funeral to be just another way that the Lord is praised and glorified. I want it to be an opportunity for those that are lost to come to faith. If it was just about me and all of my accomplishments, it would be wasted. I am confident that Josh would wish the same. He would ask us to speak of all the ways that God worked through him. His hope would be that the sting and pain of losing him would fade away as we reflect on Gods love and redemption for us.

I first met Josh ten years ago, in the middle of a strange journey. All my life I had served the Lord with one foot in and one foot out. The basis of my salvation hinged on how faithful I was in the moment, in the hour, in the day. Hard as I tried, I never lived up to the standard I felt made me worthy. At the time, I was coming out of a season of great despair where I had single handedly almost ruined my marriage and my family. We were churchless at the time and I spent many days listening to sermons from The Village Church, taught by pastor Matt Chandler. I was drawn to his preaching because he spoke of God in a way that was intimate. The God Matt knew was so much bigger than the God I had been serving all of these years. There were verses and topics that I never even knew existed in the Bible up until this point and it peaked my interest.

A simple Facebook post from a Matt Chandler sermon led my friend Kelly to invite me to this new church plant they had just begun called Redeemed Church. They were part of the Acts 29 network, which I knew Matt Chandler was a part of. I was intrigued. I needed to know more. I remember our first Sunday going to Redeemed Church. They were gathered at River Shoals clubhouse. Chairs lining the room on all sides. We were welcomed with open arms into this little community. It felt different than big church. It felt small and intimate, but it felt like they were all family. I wanted to be part of that. As I begin to hear Josh preach, I felt the same stirring in my heart as I did listening to Matt Chandler. I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Why is it that this God that Matt and Josh preach of feels so much more sovereign than the one that I have known?

I have never shied away from asking hard questions, so it was almost natural for me to be the first one to speak to Josh after the sermon. My question for him was simple, “Why do you and Matt Chandler speak of God in such a mighty way and how do I come to know God like that?” You can imagine Josh’s excitement at a random 28-year-old asking for the meat of the Gospel on their very first visit. He was ecstatic to spend the next several months and years teaching me how to study and know the one true God. In true Josh form, he sent me home that day with homework: a 9-hour seminar hosted by John piper. I think he was testing to see just how hungry I was.

I remember the shock in his voice when I called the next day to let him know I had watched the entire 9 hours. I explained to him that in those nine hours and through careful attention to scripture, the foundations of what I thought was my faith began to crumble. For the first time my eyes were open to seeing a God that pursues me. It felt like breathing fresh air for the first time. I remember thinking, “This, this is a God I can serve all the days of my life just as I am because it is He who works and wills His purpose in me. It's not up to me! It never was and it never will be. He sustains my faith and I can rest in Him because he promises to complete his work in me. ”  I had tasted for the first time what relationship felt like, and I would never fall back to religion again.

The days and months ahead, Josh would teach me by example what it meant to have relationship with the Lord, and what discipling others looked like. Church never felt like church. It felt like a family. We did life together. Josh always taught us that you invite to your table before you invite to your church. We carried that mindset through all of our different paths, even after the doors of Redeemed closed.  

The Lord used Josh in such a mighty way to disciple and care for me as I moved from the milk of the gospel to the meat, to answer hard questions and to challenge me in ways I had not known before. I give God all the glory and gratefulness for the years I've been privileged to spend under Josh's care.

He will always be my pastor. I will forever miss seeing his name come across my phone, And that familiar raspy voice asking, “Hey you, got a minute?” Those of us that know Josh, know that his phone calls were never a minute. If you take that call you better plan on a good hour. He was seldom at a loss for words or time to talk, and even in his suffering, he found purpose in it.

During one of our many phone calls he told me of a book that he was reading written by John Piper called “Don’t Waster Your Cancer”. It was bringing him great comfort but also perspective through his suffering. I want to take a minute just to read an excerpt from this book and I believe they are the words that Josh would say to us today.

Piper writes, “ Paul used this phrase about grieving without hope in relation to those whose loved ones had died: “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). There is a grief at death. Even for the believer who dies, there is temporary loss—loss of body, and loss of loved ones here, and loss of earthly ministry. But the grief is different—it is permeated with hope. “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). Don't waste your cancer grieving as those who don't have this hope.”

Believer in the room, don’t waste this opportunity to grieve with hope. Hope in the promise of our salvation and in the truth that Josh is FREE , free from sin sickness and pain. Hope that we WILL see him again.  Skeptic in the room, don’t waste this opportunity to answer the calling of the Lord.  On Josh’s behalf, I invite you to a relationship not a religion with the one true God who created you from the womb with purpose and value. I invite you to open closed fists and receive the salvation that cost Jesus his life. I implore you to come as you are- broken, imperfect and unable to save yourself. I call you to rest your todays and tomorrows in the hands of a Sovereign, Almighty God who pursues you, all the days of your life. Today is the day of Salvation. Tomorrow may never come.

 

Josh never liked goodbye’s. They felt too final. Although none of us got the chance to give our formal goodbyes, he would have never wanted it that way anyway. He would have left us all with these three words... “I love you.”

Palm Sunday: My "Hosanna"

Life-changing moments. I've had many. One that will forever stand out in my mind and heart was the day my foundation and all I believed in crumbled. I remember like it was yesterday. Upstairs. Alone. Early hours. Just me, the Word and a hovering of the Holy Spirit I had never experienced before.

The gap between the God I’d known my entire life and the one in I was beginning to see in Scripture were complete opposites. 

I was angry. Angry that in all my 20 + years of being a "Christian", I'd never read the Bible this way. Confused as to how and why I had missed it for so many years. Torn as I fought through emotions, realizing my belief didn't go past the surface of my heart. Sure, I "believed.' But not enough to transform me. 

Armed with Scripture, determined to bend my stubborn will with what little strength I had left, hurling every word possible towards the God I no longer knew, clinging to what measly faith remained, I fought ... 

I dug my heels in and prepared for battle, clinging to a sliver of hope that He’d fulfill His promise to answer if I sought Him. 

After mere minutes that felt like hours, the Scriptures came alive in a way that didn't feel cozy or comfortable, but left in its wake an overwhelming peace.  I felt all the magnitude, all the power, all the ferocious love of the Father that sent me to my knees, gasping for air as the Truth of the gospel filled my lungs for the first time.

The realness of my frail humanity was brought into light by the truth of His magnificent glory and splendor.

I don’t know why the Lord chose in that moment to reveal Himself to me in such a impactful way. Even the minuscule seed of faith I had left could've only come from His hand. But my life from that moment was never the same. I was transformed and given a boldness of the Gospel inside of me that I could no longer ignore.

One thing I'm sure of ... it didn’t happen apart from someone, somewhere interceding for me. There were many people praying for me at this time in my life , but there was that someone on their knees, tears streaming, refusing to leave the throne room until He opened my eyes to see and my ears to hear.

Have you EVER had the privilege of pleading for someone in this way? It is painful. It is HEAVY. There are days when it takes your breath away. Nights when the Lord won’t let you rest. Moments where you can almost feel the reality of the invisible battle happening in the heavenlies. There are raw, real moments when you beg the Lord to release you from it. But in His loving kindness, He doesn’t. Why?

The unexplainable happens when you intercede for others as if its your own pain. 

Your own marriage in peril. Your own child who's sick. Your own relationship in the balance. The natural part of you thinks “Well, if I spend all this time praying for someone else this way, what does it leave for me?”

The simple answer? It makes us more like Christ, "... who died—more than that, who was raised to life—and is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us." (Romans 8:34b)

The meaty answer? Because something miraculous, almost majestic, takes place during intercession. 

The prayers and requests we bring into the throne room somehow morph into answers and provision over our own lives and all that pertains to it. To experience the Lord collecting all the tears you’ve cried, burdens you've carried, pain you've felt for others and using them as a balm to soothe and dry your own eyes, creates a depth of worship in your soul you'd never reach otherwise.

If you've yet to enter the soul-quenching battle between what your head knows and your heart believes, I encourage you to make the time. On this Palm Sunday, as many of us are celebrating the coming King, what will be the motivation of your “Hosanna”?

Until you know the One True King as he shows himself to be in the Word, you’ll never move past going through the motions. 

You’ll find yourself lined up with those on the streets of Jerusalem, waving branches and praising an idea of God, but never fully feeling His power.

Lord, save us from our ideas of who you are. Give us the boldness and courage to enter the war room until we emerge victoriously with our True Father, in all your majesty, all your splendor, all your sovereignty and power... firmly seated on the throne of our hearts. Once and for all.

I see the king of glory

Coming on the clouds with fire

The whole earth shakes, the whole earth shakes, yeah

I see His love and mercy

Washing over all our sin

The people sing, the people sing

Hosanna, Hosanna

Hosanna in the highest

Hosanna, Hosanna

Hosanna in the highest

I see a generation

Rising up to take the place

With selfless faith, with selfless faith

I see a near revival

Staring as we pray and seek

We're on our knees, we're on our knees

Hosanna, Hosanna

Hosanna in the highest

Hosanna, Hosanna

Hosanna in the highest

Heal my heart and make it clean

Open up my eyes to the things unseen

Show me how to love like you have loved me

Break my heart for what breaks yours

Everything I am for your kingdom's cause

As I walk from earth into eternity

The Silent Battle We've Been Fighting

Seven months and many sleepless nights ago, we welcomed our sweet girl into this world. Her presence has brought so much joy and laughter to our lives that we never could've imagined otherwise. For years, seven to be exact, we were convinced that our son would be an only child. Our decision was probably more or less fear-based, since we experienced a really tough first year with our firstborn. Regardless, we were set on "one and done." But God... I just love those words. They never get old. God had a different plan. He had a plan and a purpose for Isabelle to make her appearance in our lives. With all the joy a new baby brings, its easy to let other things go unnoticed. After all, this new little life demands a lot of attention. My son, my firstborn, was beginning to show signs of something that was quickly spiraling out of our control.

With each passing day, I began to notice patterns in Owen that didn't make sense. He would have to walk around our car twice before getting in. He would make strange noises, repeatedly, to the point where they disrupted our everyday activities. He was no longer sleeping, waking multiple times a night, convinced if he fell asleep he wouldn't wake up again. As a mom to a new baby, I shrugged these silly things off as a boy begging for attention, and handled it as such. Days and weeks went by and the disturbing patterns began to multiply. It seemed that no amount of attention, good or bad, would suffice. With each new annoying, inconvenient pattern came a new punishment. I was determined to gain control over this situation. Then, one unexpected night, the reality that this wasn't just a phase, and it wasn't just for attention, finally hit me.

It happened shortly after we said our "goodnights" and tucked him into bed. He came running out of his room, screaming in fear. We Momma's know when our babies are scared. This wasn't just scared. This was a blood-curdling scream like he was hurt. He ran into my bedroom and sat on the floor crying, begging me to reassure him he wouldn't die in his sleep. As I sat in the floor, holding my sobbing boy, I began to sob myself. Through the sleepless nights with my newborn, the countless hours of nursing and the brain fog of sleep deprivation, how did I miss this? How is my son this mentally disturbed that he can't even sleep anymore? I came to grips that he needed help, and more than I could give.

The next day we met with his doctor and were given the news that I had already sensed in my heart to be true: Owen is struggling with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Although I knew this was probably the case, my heart sank, nonetheless. I have a newborn at home who needs me completely right now. And now I have a boy who needs me just the same.  My mind began racing..."Lord, I just want to NOT be needed! I can't do this. This is too much."

Things progressively got worse from there. My 8 year old, who should be worried about nothing more than which toy to play with, what book to read or movie to watch, was afraid his blood would stop pumping, fearful he would wake up in the hospital, afraid to drink out of a cup or eat a certain food because it may be poisoned. This Momma's heart was, and still is, hurting for my baby. I know the Lord could heal him in a moment, but for whatever reason, he has seen it fit to not take it away but give us all the strength to make it through this.

We now have a couple months of counseling under our belt, and some tools in our toolbox to walk him through this. But all the amount of counseling and all the number of tools don't give us strength when we are exhausted. The questions. The reassurances. The tears. It's exhausting. And we are tired.

When I have to confirm for the hundredth time today that the water isn't poisoned.
When I have to give him two hugs and two kisses goodbye before he feels safe to leave.
When I have to remind him for the twentieth time that his hands are clean enough to eat.
When I spend twenty minutes convincing him there is no metal in his string cheese.
This isn't just Owen's struggle. Its our struggle.

The days and nights have been so hard. These past seven months have been among the more challenging ones for my husband and I, but we've grown. We've found ourselves in intercession for our son way more often than before. We've learned to appreciate the baby steps. If he eats a meal without asking if its safe, we celebrate. If he sleeps an entire night in his bed without a single tear, we praise the Lord. If he plays outside with friends without coming to me and asking if the dirt will seep into his veins, we help him see there is hope!

I know Facebook, Instagram and all the other social media sites allow us to paint this pretty picture of our lives and cover up our struggles. But today, I wanted to share this struggle we've been battling. It's still not over. There is still work and prayer and intercession to be done but we are getting stronger by the day as we trust the Lord and also learn more about OCD and the way it effects our son. If you think of us, just lift us up in prayer.  He needs help, daily. We need strength, daily. We need to fix our eyes, daily. We need the Lord to remind us that this is just a storm and He has a purpose and plan for Owen and his struggle, daily. Owen is the Lord's. He will accomplish His purpose!

When One Became Two | Looking Through the Jagged Pieces of a Stained-Glass Window

Tears. Confusion. Frustration. Severe reflux. Colic. Multiple ear infections.

Much like a tag you would enter into the search field of an internet browser, those words were the ones that best described our first year with Owen. Sure, there were some happy times. There were moments of joy instead of sorrow, but above all, what was meant to be a gift had seemed to wrap itself in a curse. Now, before you look down on me and think my words are harsh, keep in mind there was more going on here than meets the eye. It was a slow, arduous process of sanctification, disguised as a little bundle of cuteness. 

After three years of marriage, and having walked through a miscarriage the year before, my husband and I joyfully accepted he surprising news we were expecting again. Its hard to explain the mixed emotions of conceiving after a miscarriage. Joy but skepticism. Elation but reservation. Excitement mixed with fear. It's kind of like having one foot on the side of anticipation and one securely planted in doubt, certain you can shift your weight in either direction when the time seems appropriate. 

Thirty-eight and a half weeks come and go and all of a sudden, our wonderfully controlled, full-time working, couple-minded lives go from easy-breezy to all out chaos. It seemed like one thing after another. I remember at one point wondering how in the world this little 6.8 lb baby could cause cause such a shift in our "normal." All of a sudden, I had to lay down my life. I had to sacrifice all of me for him. I had to give up even the part-time work I had planned on returning to, to stay home and "mother" this baby that clearly wasn't following my plan. Have you every loved something or someone so much that it just caused you physical pain at the thought of not being able to fully care for and protect it? That's what this was. It was too much love. It was too powerful. And I couldn't control it. 

Breastfeeding every few hours. Soothing a colicky baby at the most inopportune times. Holding, rocking, comforting during his 6 weeks stints of multiple ear infections. Enduring a one week hospital stay with a 4-week-old baby, where I experienced the awful moments of hearing my child scream himself to sleep from pain and hunger because he couldn't eat for three days straight. 

Time passed and Owen grew out of the stage of endless crying, colic and reflux. I must say, I was glad to see that first year come and go. And I wanted no part of that time in my life again. So, my husband and I both agreed Owen would be an only child. But, God had other plans.  

Fast forward to present day, I have a little girl growing inside of me who was never even considered until this time last year. I remember it clearly, the moment the Holy Spirit broke my heart and gave me an unrelenting desire for another child. It was seemingly out of nowhere. Just a calm, gentle voice that first convicted me of my sin I had been unknowingly harboring for years: the idea that a baby was a curse, not a blessing. And then replacing it with a desire...His desire. An overwhelming desire to walk through that stage again with fresh eyes and a new heart who, in many aspects for the first time, really knew its Father. 

 Despite our irrational misconceptions, Owen was given to us as a blessing. He was a gift, from a loving Father, who knew it was best that we not be given a sweet, happy-go-lucky baby. We needed to experience for ourselves what it was like to lay down our lives for a season. God desired that year of heartache and fear to give us the opportunity to let go of control and trust Him. He didn't want this little bundle of joy to separate us and cause division in our marriage. We allowed that to happen. His plan was always for us to fall on our knees and stand up together.

What we see as jagged pieces of glass, set before us to cut and inflict pain, the Lord sees as the pieces of a beautiful stained-glass window. We just can't see it from His point of view, so we have to trust Him.  How can we ever fully trust Him if we don't have a clear concept who He is and his intentions for us? We need some clarity if we are ever going to stand on solid ground during times of testing.

For the first time in my life, I'm looking forward to Isabelle arriving as a time of rest. Yes, there will be around the clock feedings, and diaper changes, and consoling and all the other inconveniences-disguised-as-blessings, but this time... this season in my life, the Lord has prepared the way and I am ready to face whatever may come. 

The name Isabelle means "gift to God," and we chose it for good reason. Although she is a wonderful gift He has given to us, we are determined this time around, to give our time, our sacrifices and this beautiful baby girl, back to Him. 

Knowing I will stay have to lay down my life. 

Knowing I still can't control the outcome.

Knowing we may have a repeat of challenges we faced with Owen.

But embracing the coming moments as sanctification. 

Holding onto the promises that my Father will always be looking out for my good and His glory. 

2015 | A Resolution to End the Lie: "If I Could Just Lose Those Last Ten Pounds..."

3 John 1:2 - Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul. 

"I just want my high school body back." 

"If I can only lose those last ten pounds." 

"Is there like a magic pill you could give me to help me lose weight without exercising?" 

These are just a few of the questions and phrases I've heard as we've begun 2014. As most of my close friends and family know, I've been through my phases of obsession with my physical body. I remember the feeling of control I had while monitoring every morsel of food that entered my mouth. The lure of a body that doesn't jiggle when I run. The idea of rock solid abs that don't fold over when I sit, thighs that don't touch and a butt that doesn't sag. The fat burners were just an added bonus. With high quality caffeine and stimulants coursing through my veins, I felt unstoppable. Working out twice a day became like a drug to me. That newly defined body also brought along things I didn't expect: a troubled marriage, an eating disorder that led to me only eating food that I had prepared (free of fats, seasonings, or anything I considered unhealthy), friendships based solely on if you supported my unhealthy habit. With each new ab muscle peeping through and every new line of definition forming, everything else hit the wayside. Nothing else mattered.The best thing God could've done for me was to sit back and let it happen. There came a time in that phase of life, where God came and found me. He and I walked through years of repairs both in my marriage, my friendships and in my health. 

I know for us as women, it's easy to put our bodies on a pedestal. Magazines constantly photoshop women to portray perfectly defined, size 2 bodies. Type the word "fitness" into the search field on Pinterest and you'll find chiseled bodies of women plastered across your computer screen, as if the lack of jiggle constitutes a level of fitness. In lieu of our New Year Resolutions, I'd like to offer a new one: that we, as women, hold each other accountable. I'm not talking accountability as in showing up to the gym everyday, in sickness or in health. I'm not even insinuating we hold each other responsible for every bite of food we eat. Is exercise important? Absolutely. Is eating healthy necessary? You bet. But there is a life after this one and our physical bodies will be gone. The real accountability comes in spiritually… Are we regarding our spiritual health as important as our physical, if not more so? I'm not saying let's abandon all workouts and all things health-related, I'm simply saying let's stop going crazy with it… working out twice a day and living on a diet of Almond Milk and lettuce. I'm calling for a commitment to grow in godliness while growing in strength… "For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come."- 1 Timothy 4:8

I'ts 2015. A fresh start. A new chapter. It's time we join together, ladies, as much for ourselves as for our daughters, our nieces, our friend and all the other girls that are being brought up in a world that worships the next hottest body. It's our responsibility to teach them balance. They deserve to know you can enjoy the not-so-good for you foods within reason. That you don't have to prepackage your meals to attend a birthday party. That it's ok to have a little jiggle here and there. That the strength of our hearts will far outweigh the strength of our biceps. If we aren't teaching women around us the value of a relationship with God, then the world will teach them their value is found in what they have and what they look like. God predicted it long ago, that the world would be drawn that way…"For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Sam 16:7.  

Let's be honest, even at our skinniest, or healthiest state, we still found fault in our bodies! Losing those last ten pounds, fitting into your skinny jeans and achieving that "goal weight" will not bring you lasting joy. It will be fleeting. Stop focusing on where you fall short and thank God for where you are today. Enjoy your food, your families, your friendships and even your workouts. Let's make it a point this year to seek the Lord with the same zeal we bring to our workouts. There is a freedom to be found in that...and a joy that far surpasses having the body of your dreams.  "Do not let your adorning be external…but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious." 1 Peter 3:3-4. A firm foundation of the heart will stand long after our firm booty and biceps have passed away! :)

Bitter Coffee and Bing Crosby

Growing up, I remember the distinct aroma every morning. Coffee was always made well before breakfast was considered. After all, the coffee bean was the most important food group in our household. It seemed like my parents drank no less than a pot a day. I loved the smell, but the taste? Gag. I couldn't imagine ANYONE drinking this crap, much less enjoying it so much that they drink it by the potful?! I was convinced my parents had no tastebuds. I stuck to my beverages of my choice, the ones that were sweet and tangy: Mellow Yellow and Vault Zero ( which gave me a nightmare of cavities, by the way...). Hot chocolate and cappuccinos were pretty high on that list as well.

Back in our dating days (eleven years ago, believe it or not), Nathan and I took a road trip. We were on a trip to visit Nathan's grandmother, Grandma Chinski, whom I had never met. When we finally arrived at our destination in good 'ol Arkansas, I immediately fall in love with this beautiful cabin. It was warm and cozy. Beautifully decorated. His grandparents welcomed me as if I were one of their own. We had a great time that evening, just sitting, talking and getting to know each other. The next morning, I awoke to that all familiar smell of coffee brewing. Ahhhhh! The beautiful smell of coffee... if only it didn't taste like death!

As I walk down the stairs from the cozy loft where I slept, Grandma handed me a freshly-poured cup. As everyone around me is sipping their warm cup of joe, I stood there, wondering if I should inform her that I am by no means, a "coffee-drinker." She must've noticed my face, because she quickly asked me, "How do you like it? Cream? Sugar?" Non-existent was the first thing that came to mind, but in a room full of veteran coffee-drinkers I wasn't sure how kindly they would take to that opinion. I responded, "Well, honestly, I've never had a cup I can actually drink. It's nothing but bitter to me." She smiled and walked over to the cabinet and pulled out some small canisters. After a few quick shakes and a stir, she walked back over to me, cup in hand and a confident smile on her face. She implored me to "just try one sip." I knew I had experimented with coffee, time and time again, no to avail. But, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I took the cup from her hand. It definitely looked lighter in color with cute little foamy swirls. If nothing else, it looked and smelled pretty. I put the cup to my mouth and prepared my face to appear less like I had just tasted a sour lemon and more like I kind of enjoy it. I take the smallest sip imaginable. Hmmmm. It isn't bitter. I must take another sip to ensure I haven't lost my mind. Then another. And another. This isn't bitter at all. It actually tastes.....gulp.....GOOD!

From that day on, my love for coffee began. It was warm, comforting and full of flavor. The early days of having a little coffee with my creamer quickly passed as my tastebuds became more acclimated to the flavor. Now, I could almost (I said "almost") drink it black and call it "good." Occasionally, while sipping my coffee, I'll think back to that morning with Grandma in the kitchen and my heart is once again thankful for her willingness to make that perfect cup.

Christmas has a way of stirring your heart to old memories, especially those of grandparents. I hear Bing Crosby playing in the background and I think of my Grandpa. He is gone now, but I still carry those wonderful memories of Christmastime at the Cabin. Late nights watching Bing Crosby movies by the warm fire. One morning, I woke earlier than everyone else and snuck down the hallway to see if my Papa was up yet. The fire had died. I was cold and he was the best fire-maker I knew of. I glanced in his bedroom and saw him sitting on the bed, reading the Word. I asked what he was reading, as if it wasn't obvious. With a chuckle in his tone, he said, "The book that I live in...Romans." I didn't think much of it, being a youngster, and went on my merry way.

The older I got, the more I found the Book of Romans to be a bitter pill for me. I didn't understand it. It made me question too much. My Papa must've been off his rocker. I preferred the sweeter side of the Lord: the sugary, tangy parts, fuzzy-feeling parts of Him. Forgiveness, protection, blessings... you know, all those good "churchy" things that make us feel warm and fuzzy inside. But His Sovereignty? His prevailing purpose over mine? His Will triumphing over my own feeble humanity? His choosing me and not I choosing Him? That wasn't sweet. It was bitter. It was angering. It didn't go down smoothly for me, at all. Verses in Romans like verse fifteen, " For he says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion,” or verse eighteen, "So then he has mercy on whomever he wills, and he hardens whomever he wills." It made God seem ugly to me. It felt wrong. So, I avoided it.

It took time. Years. Scripture. Hardships. Prayer. Sanctifying...until one day, the once bitter pill in Romans that seemed so cold and rigid, the one I refused to swallow for so long, became like a warm blanket to my soul. It took the hands and heart of a grandmother to serve that coffee in just the right way. It takes the work of the Holy Spirit, at just the right time, to reveal Truth to our souls. Just as Grandma prepared that cup of coffee with love, confident she had just the right recipe. So too, the Lord loves us well, in that He reveals Truth to our hearts just when we need it, when He sees fit.

Do I still have questions? Sure. Does everything make perfect sense to my human mind? Of course, not. But the gift been given to me is Rest. Resting in the Sovereignty of my Lord who LOVES me. Resting in the fact the He knows best. Resting in His love for me that began long before I was ever born. That is where my soul finds rest.

I believe my Grandpa saw the beauty in Romans.  A comfort in the Lord's Sovereignty. I believe He prayed for me to see it one day as well. He passed away before I had the chance to share with him how the Lord turned what I saw as bitterness into something lovely. But one day... we will be together again. And I'll bet he will pour me a warm cup of delicious coffee. We will open the Word together and weep at the beauty in it with Jesus by our side. What a glorious day that will be!

Theology - (n) the study of the nature of God | Does It Really Matter?

"To study theology is to get to know God in order that we may glorify Him through our love and obedience. Notice the progression here: we must get to know Him before we can love Him, and we must love Him before we can desire to obey Him...The world is a painful place, and life in it is disappointing and unpleasant. Reject theology and you doom yourself to life with no sense of direction. Without theology, we waste our lives and lose our souls." 

I have spent the majority of my years in a battle. Not a typical battle. This battle was ME against ME. For as long as I can remember, I was taught in church and at home how important it was to live a life pleasing to God.

Don't cuss.
Don't drink.
Don't have sex outside of marriage.
Don't … Don't … Don't.

Do say things like "gosh darn" and "jiminy crickets."
Do drink virgin daiquiris to set an example (why do we call them that anyway?).
Do save yourself for marriage.

Here's the problem with this list. I could NEVER keep all the rules. Every single one of them, and then some, I broke….head on, in full rebellion. I knew how to get away with what I really wanted to do. And I was a pro at manipulation. It was a vicious cycle of… "Oh crap, I screwed up again. Well, God isn't pleased so might as well dig in a little deeper and enjoy this season of sin." Then I'd go to Disciple Now or Winter Jam and rededicate my life for the 20th time that year and set out to do better. I could grit my teeth and make it through a few months practicing all these behavior modifications: the do's, the don'ts, this is what a Christian looks like, these are places Christians go, these are books Christians read. But they always left me empty, feeling as if I didn't measure up, prepared for the next fall… and then would come the guilt, the disappointment, the sorrow. And I'd once again try and climb out of the pit I'd found myself in, hoping I could clean myself up enough to stand before God. Again.

My behavior was not the heart of the problem, the problem was the problem of my heart. And this is where Theology comes in. A.Z. Tozer says it best when he quoted: "The man who comes to a right belief about God is relieved of 10,000 temporal problems…" Many people scoff at doctrines and theology, summing it up as pointless rubbish that does nothing more than confuse people. They ask, "Why does it matter anyway? If you believe in Jesus, what more do you need to know?" I beg to differ… and here's why.

1- It gives you a starting point.
If you do not know what you are being saved from, you can never appreciate what you are being saved into. You'll never know the need for Grace.The Bible teaches that as a result of the fall of man (Genesis 3:6) every part of man—his mind, will, emotions and flesh—have been corrupted by sin. In other words, sin affects all areas of our being including who we are and what we do. It penetrates to the very core of our being so that everything is tainted by sin and “…all our righteous acts are like filthy rags” before a holy God (Isaiah 64:6). We sin because we are sinners by nature. Or, as Jesus says, “So every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot produce bad fruit, nor can a bad tree produce good fruit.” (Matthew 7:17-18)." This would definitely explain why no matter how often I tried, I failed miserable at being "good", desiring the things of the Lord and having confidence in my faith. I didn't have the ability. I needed a heart transplant.

2- It causes striving to cease. 
We are totally incapable of fixing the problem of our hearts. We can't force them to obey. We can't coerce them into submission. We don't possess the power to resurrect that which is dead in sin. We need an outside force. In Ezekiel 36:25-36, the Lord says, "I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh." Take a look at that verse… how much "work" are you doing in this process? The Lord has called you His; He will give you a heart to follow. You see, if He wasn't the One initiating, we'd never be able to follow through. He follows this heart transplant with a deposit for us as well in verse 27, "I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules." Can you see what REST you find when this truth settles in your heart? No more to-do-list's. No more guilt and shame over failed attempts. We simply rest in this, "for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose." (Philippians 2:14) This overwhelmingly powerful truth changed my relationship with the Lord immensely. It allowed me to, for the first time in my life, “Be still, and know that [He is] God."

3- It allows you to see God for who He is: Sovereign.  
For quite a while, I believed that it was I who chose the Lord. I decided whether I wanted to be His. I chose my destiny, and it was all up to me to choose the "right" way. But there was only one problem with this idea, the Bible. As I dug into the Word, I began to see a pattern of God consistently choosing people based on nothing other than His love for them. In Ephesians 1:4-5, we read it best, " For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will…" I also noticed many places where God was sure to let me know that it was not my choice for salvation, but His alone. We find it in John 15:16, "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide…". There are many more Scriptures, but you get the gist. These truths definitely had my mind spinning. It took the power away from me. I wasn't in as much control as I thought I was. For so long, I had picked myself up off the ground…I had followed the to-do-list…I had decided when and how I want to follow Him… It seems to me He was working behind the scenes all along. God isn't sitting back twiddling his thumbs, hoping that those He has chosen from before the foundations of the earth will come. No. He says, "Come" ...and Danielle is coming. "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. (John 10:27-29).

4- You read the Bible…correctly.
The Bible is to be read as one big story. Not a story about us, not an instruction manual before leaving earth…it's a story about Jesus. We are just finding ourselves along the way, to be part of HIS story. Yes, you will find guidance for your life in that Book. Sure, you will get encouragement, advice and all of those good things. But it's so much more than that! Notice the pattern: man fails, God gives a promise and then silence… man is left with nothing more than a promise. Out of silence, you see God step in, call His people, redeem them and then tell them, "Now that you are redeemed, this is how I want you to live." That's a very different viewpoint than what I had growing up, where you were sure to dot your I's and cross your T's… because THIS is the person God loves. No! God loves us "while we were still yet sinners," before the foundation of the earth, not based on anything we can offer. The fact that I've already been accepted, flaws and all, gives me the confidence to live as God tells me to. I don't obey to be accepted. I'm accepted, therefore I obey. It seems like a small, insignificant detail…but it is everything. 

There are many more reasons I could give as to why doctrine and Theology are so important to me, but we can get in depth over coffee sometime. It has brought nothing but peace into my life. My heart rests here. I no longer serve the God I had put together in my imagination, I serve the One true God. I live out this life... resting in Him, confident in my faith and more importantly assured that this all-mighty, powerful, Sovereign God not only loves me, but he likes me! He will keep me by His side, as His daughter, till the end.