Moving On and Cleaning Up

I have two unpacked bags sitting in the middle of my floor.  They have been there for three weeks.  You know when you move and you try to pack strategically but you end up with a few boxes of just useless old papers and letters and potentially important things you aren’t sure if you still need?  That’s the kind of stuff in these bags.  I absolutely, without a doubt, more than I could possibly express, HATE unpacking these bags.  So there they sit, full of old things I don’t need, for weeks.  And weeks and weeks.  (Fun fact, when I was in college I had a bag of stuff like this that followed me all four years.  I took it to every new dorm room with the intention of going through it and never did.  For four years.  Can we say ridiculous?  Because that is totally absurd.)

Here’s the part that gets me though, I don’t want to unpack them.  Yes, I kind of wish my room was less messy.  Yes, I could use the space they are taking up.  Yes, I might find some good stuff in there.  But I also might find some stuff I don’t want to deal with right now.  And my room will feel different when they are gone.

We’ve all got bags like this, it’s called the past.  Just like these bags, there is so much stuff I just don’t want to deal with.  So I let it sit there in the back of my mind, taking up valuable space.  Since it’s been there for so long, I’ve gotten so comfortable with all the baggage that I don’t really want it to change because life might feel so different without the mess.  I might be different having dealt with all of it, and change scares me.  Eventually though, those bags have got to go.  And so does my grasp on things that are in the past.

So I think I’ll finally unpack those bags and see what comes of it.  And I think maybe, if I can, I’ll just start letting go of the things that take up space in my brain.  I’ll just let all of the old stuff be behind me where it’s supposed to be.  I think I’ll start accepting things I can’t change, and continue to pray for that very change to really happen.  I’ll solemnly wave goodbye to the things I don’t want to let go of (but need to) and leap into what’s happening right here, right now.

Father, I’ll be here where you have me, instead of all the places you had me.  Give me the heart to handle what’s real in the present, while remembering the ways you’ve changed me in my past.

The prayer I don't really want to pray

I am about to do something that's going to make you type-A people a little crazy.  I am posting this post, but it is chronologically out of order with the last post.  And I'm posting both at the same time.  Intentionally out of order.  I know, I know.  But I promise it will be ok.  What I am about to tell you is stuff that came before all that I wrote about in my last post.  So, my last post is a lot of stuff the Lord has done in me since all of this went through my head, but I think it is significant that you see that these are the things I was thinking approximately a week before I wrote the last post.  It's surprisingly relevant, and it's always cool to see how God is working and answering prayer and changing me in the very ways I am asking Him to.  So here is some stuff I was thinking and praying about before the Lord really hit me with all that strength and confidence you just read about.  And if you are really that stressed out about the order, just read them backwards.

A week or so ago, I came across this prayer in a devotional book I use occasionally.  Before reading what I have to say, however, I want you to read this prayer on your own, because it actually is pretty great.  Then, once you have your own thoughts, I can tell you what I thought of it when I read it for the first time.

“O Persistent God,

deliver me from assuming your mercy is gentle.

Pressure me that I may grow more human,

not through the lessening of my struggles,

but through the expansion of them…

Deepen my hurt

until I learn to share it and myself openly,

and my needs honestly.

Sharpen my fears until I name them

and release the power I have locked in them

and they in me.

Accentuate my confusion

until I shed those grandiose expectations

that divert me from the small, glad gifts

of the now and the here and the me.

Expose my shame where it shivers,

crouched behind the curtains of propriety,

until I can laugh at last

through my common frailties and failures,

laugh my way toward becoming whole.”

[Guerillas of grace, by Ted Loder]

Do you have your own thoughts?  Good.  Because I don't want to taint it for you with mine.  That said, this is what I thought the first time I read it:

Heck.  Freaking.  No.

Now, my entire reaction wasn't like that.  I was tracking with it for the first line or so...you can't really come up with any issues to "O persistent God".  So far, so good.  Then I read the next line, and the next, and the next.  As I am reading and praying through it, I started thinking, "Never mind, God, this sounds kind of terrible, I do not want to pray this at all, forget everything I just said please."  I mean seriously, I do not want to be pressured, deepen my hurt, sharpen my fears, accentuate my confusion, or expose even the tiniest little tidbit of my shame.  No thank you.  I'm good without that.

Then the Spirit started to convict me.

He does that sometimes.

It gets a little annoying.

So I started thinking, what sort of relationship is only made up of good, happy, fluffy, pretty things?  Am I taking only the good parts of what it means to be a Christian and leaving behind everything that would bring me depth?  Just because I'm scared of getting all raw and gritty?  Just because I am scared of being real?  Do I really have that little trust in my God that I would trade depth for a pseudo-happy-go-lucky-everything-is-fine-all-the-time type of faith.  Because that's not really faith at all.  That's not what my God is all about.  And that certainly is not what I want.

But I'm still human.  And I don't want to be broken like that either.  So I realized I need God to deepen my faith and alleviate my fear, that I might pray that prayer with confidence and boldness, knowing that whatever might happen, the ways in which I will be changed and the ways in which I will see God more fully are worth more than simply being comfortable.  I don't want to be comfortable, I want to be radical.  But I still want to be comfortable.  So I need some faith.  Because He is more important and I want all of Him, not just the fluffy stuff.  Because that's what love is, and that's how He loves me everyday.

For the record, this is not what I want my relationship with Jesus to be like (however this guy is awesome and this is what I thought of almost immediately when I typed the word "fluffy" up there):

I dare you, come at me.

Question.

What makes you stronger?

Is it hard work?

Is it perseverance?

Is it being challenged?

Is it a good attitude?

Is it the ability to compartmentalize?

Is it patience and being worry free?

Is it bench pressing 5 trillion pounds?

What if I told you that my weakness is what makes me stronger?  That the weaker I get, the stronger I get?

You might call me crazy.  I mean, by the very definition, that makes no sense at all.  They are opposites, weakness and strength, you simply can't be both.  A year ago, I might have agreed with you. But now, after a year full of experiences (a year full of rather hard experiences), I'd have to challenge you.  Sometimes, my dear friends, things simply don't make sense.  And it's taken me a long time, but I have finally learned that that's ok, things don't always have to be logical.  So let me share with you the story of how I got here.

Recently, I've been praying a lot of prayers.  Praying doesn't seem to do it justice.  It seems to quiet and passive a term, though I know it shouldn't.  No, what I've been doing is pleading.  I've been begging God for His patience, perseverance, and grace.  I've been begging Him to change me, save me, and bring me closer to Him.  I've been begging Him to root me in Him deeper and deeper and deeper.

You see, I've been so deeply aware of my sinfulness that I am becoming more and more aware of how much of a miracle it is that I even know Him at all.  I've been so aware if my sin and so desperate to see change, but so assured that I have no control over any of it.  I can't fix myself.  I can't save myself.  I can't discipline myself into perfection.  This sort of realization can leave a person feeling helpless and hopeless.  This can leave a person scared.

So I'll be honest, friends, which you all know is my most favorite thing to do (if you didn't hear the sarcasm there, you don't know me well enough), and I'll tell you I've been scared. Yep, you heard me. Scared.

Scared that at any moment I could break.

Scared that at any moment I could just slip through the cracks and lose everything.

Scared that at any moment I could make one wrong choice and go into a tailspin.

Scared that I simply can't handle any more struggle.

Scared that at any moment I might just choose to give up fighting the good fight and opt out for the easy road.

But then there's grace.

And it changes everything.

Because I've been pleading.  Pleading for God to make me solid.  Pleading for Him to root me, deep and unmovable, in Him, that I might stand firm.  Pleading for Him not to give up on me.  Pleading for Him to not let me go.

And it occurs to me, He's never not been doing all of those things I have been asking for.  I am seeing that every struggle, every pain, every hit is only rooting me deeper and stronger in Him.  Every time I break, I become more solid, more sure, more His.

It's funny, now that I think about it, that the very things the enemy intends for evil, God redeems.  All the ways he tries to break me only make me stronger in the Lord.  The ways he tried to pull me away only push me closer to my God.

It makes me feel a little sneaky, like I've been let in on some big cosmic secret.

My God is a God of redemption.  My struggles are not meaningless.  He does not merely help me get through them and make me feel better.  No, He uses them.  He redeems them for good.  My struggles are crucial blocks in what He's building me to be, and I need Him to keep building me.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."  [Romans 8:38-39]

I feel like I've reached a point of confidence in my faith, and in God, that I've never had before.  (And let's be serious, the word "confidence", is not a word commonly used when talking about me, so this is kind of huge). Nothing can take me from Him.  What's His is His.  He plays for keeps.  The fact that I am His will never change.  Someone told me once that I should never use the word never, because it was too strong a word and I had to be really really certain I meant it.  (If I recall, I think The Biebs also mentioned something about never saying never...).  So let me say it again so you get just how serious I am about this.

The fact the I am His will NEVER change.  Period.  End of discussion.

So, come at me.  Go ahead, just try to break me.  I dare you.  Because it only makes me stronger and I am beginning to welcome anything that God can use to let me know Him more.  Because I am His.

Also, this is one of my most favorite songs in the world.  And it applies here quite nicely.

“So tell me why I should run for cover

At the sound of the coming thunder

All I hear is the cry of my lover

So take your shot

I won't turn back”

-“Won’t Turn Back” by NeedToBreathe

Psalm 139

How precious to me are your thoughts, O god!  How vast is the sum of them!  Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.  When I awake, I am still with you.  [Psalm 139:17-18]

I never understood this passage.  I have said it and read it over and over.  I memorized the psalm for goodness sake.  But I never understood this part.  What thoughts?  Why are God’s thoughts precious to me?  I don't know what god is thinking, and why do I care that he has a lot of thoughts?  And what does being with him have to do with any of that?  One thing that continually astounds me about the god I love is that he can take something that I have heard over and over and in an instant change it's meaning to me forever.  I used to gloss over is passage, just breezing over it because I didn't really know what it meant and It simply didn't stand out.  But the other day the Lord put this psalm in my path once again and changed how I read this, and how I see Him.

I won’t lie, my first thought when I saw that Psalm 139 was the passage I was supposed to read that was that I might as well skip reading it because, since I have it memorized, I clearly already know everything there is to know about this passage.  God can't possibly teach me anything new from it right?  Wrong.  I mean, seriously.  Could I be any more arrogant?  I decided I would read through it anyway and ponder it a little, trying to pull out pictures of intimacy from it, since that was the theme of the bible study I was doing that day.  It makes sense that they picked this psalm to go with that theme, there are so many parts of this psalm that show how intimately God knows us, but for some reason, on this particular day, the Lord chose to reveal his Intimate love for me in these words.  These words.  The ones that had meant nothing to me thus far, even as I had spent so much time in this passage over the past couple years.

We, as humans, want to know we are loved.  And part of this includes wanting to know we are thought of often and missed when we aren't around.  We want to know we are wanted, that we matter enough to be longed for and adored.  As I read this words, it was like the Lord was saying to me, so incredibly clearly, "Oh hey Patty.  You know those thoughts of mine that you are reading about?  Did you know they are all about you?  There are so many wonderful thoughts I have of you, my dear.  Hundreds and thousands and millions of beautiful thoughts of you because I love you so dearly.  I know you better than you know you, and I love you.  You are always with me, always on my heart, always on my mind.  I long for you, and I delight in you.  I will celebrate the day that finally, after so much, I get to be with you forever."

I was astounded.  We all want someone to say that to us, to be so in love with us that they can’t get us off their mind.  I am no different.  But as I walked and pondered this psalm, I heard the God of the universe declaring that love for me.  I have it right here in writing, it’s no lie, I am loved by the Lord, the God of the universe, the Creator, the Mighty King.  Naturally, being the self-centered, unbelieving sinner that I am, my first thought was, "Why in the world would He want to love me?” But this passage isn’t about me, it’s about Him.  It’s a declaration of how deeply He loves us, longs for us, knows us, and loves us.  It’s a picture into the very heart of God.  And His heart is full of deep and beautiful thoughts of us.  Us.  His lovers, His created, His children. 

Being in love with someone that does not love you in return is brutal.  But intimacy with God is mutual.  It is not one sided.  It is not us humans begging an unreachable God to notice us.  No, it’s a mutual desire to be with each other.  We long for Him and He longs for us as well.   He wants us there with Him just as much as we want to be with Him.  That's why He died for us.  That's why He conquered death.  That's why He bridged the gap.  That's why He rescued us.  And that's why He blesses us so abundantly with life and love.  He desires us.  He longs for us.  We are on His heart and mind.  He does not withhold himself from us, He wants to give us all of himself, in every facet.  And He longs for us to give ourselves to him without holding anything back.  

Along with this psalm, I read an excerpt from a book called The River Within by Jeff Imbach.  In this excerpt, Imbach references a book called The Art of Intimacy.  Imbach writes,

“According to the Malones, intimacy is distinguished from closeness.  The word intimacy is derived from the latin word intima, meaning “inner” or “innermost,” and carries the idea of being in touch with our inner selves.  It does not focus on the feelings of warmth or the awareness of similarity.  Intimacy is the art of bringing our true selves into the relationship.”

Intimacy with the Lord is exactly what intimacy should be.  It is deep and fulfills a longing in us that we can't satisfy any other way.  The God who created us and knows us and loves us is the only one that can bring us into that intimacy, the only one that can bring out who we truly are as we go deeper into knowing who He truly is.  He knows us better than we know ourselves, and he loves us more deeply than we can even fathom.  We desire intimacy because we were made for it and because God is calling us into that intimacy with Him.  It's the deepest and truest intimacy out there, and all He wants to do is love us.  And all we have to do is let Him.  He brought Himself directly to us, to be with us, and He changes us to become who we were always meant to be.  It is in Him that we really find ourselves and experience the One that knows who we are, down to the deepest depths of ourselves.  That, my friends, is what intimacy is.  That is what we were made for.  That is how our God loves us.

My dodaddy is the coolest.

I want to introduce you to my dodaddy.  Some know him as Lew, to others he is dad, all of my cousins call him granddaddy, but he was my dodaddy.  I’m not sure where I came up with that name, and I’m sure it was just as weird for him to be called that as it was for me to call him that, but he returned the favor by calling me Patty Poo and neither of us ever cared that it was strange at all (and for the record he is the ONLY person that has ever been and will ever be allowed to call me that, so as long as we are clear on that, we can move on).  So, if you care to listen, I'm going to tell you about him.

He played cribbage.  And I don't care how many dollars he lost to my dad, I would always root for him.  It didn't matter how bad he was losing, I was always sure he would pull through and win.  And I was always insistent that he was a better cribbage player than my dad, much to my dad’s dismay.  Dad, let's be serious, he was a kick butt cribbage player, and it was your butt he was kicking. And you loved every second of it.

He ate ketchup on everything.  And I mean EVERYTHING.  I don't really know why he bothered taking time to pick out his meals, because they probably all just tasted like ketchup.  This used to make me crazy, but eventually it was just funny.  At least he knew what he liked.

Sometimes, he would burst into song.  I never knew what the heck he was singing, but I found it hilarious.  It's just one of those awesome quirky things that old people do sometimes because they've lived long enough to know that it really and truly doesn't matter what other people think of you.  It's pretty funny when you are in a crowded elevator and your grandfather just starts singing—not quietly—and everyone glances around at each other wondering what the heck is going on.  It's hilarious.  Maybe I'll try it sometime.

He loved Disney world.  I don't know why this always astounded me so much.  Maybe it's because he never did too much there, he would just sit and wait for people to get off of the rides he didn't want to ride.  I never understood why he would think that it was so fun, until I grew up and became a little more like him.  I've actually spent time thinking about this, because it really did baffle me so much, so here are the theories I have come up with as to why he loved Disney world as much as he did.

1. He enjoyed watching other people have fun.  Whether it was a small child running around pretending to be Mickey Mouse, or his own children laughing over the dinner table, he found his joy and pleasure in other people’s joy and pleasure.  I think this is a hard thing to find in people these days, and I admire him so much for that quality.  This is essentially the definition of living for others instead of for yourself, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

2. He enjoyed his family.  I think he was proud of the people he raised.  He was proud of his family and he loved being with us.  He knew that being surrounded by people he loved and loved him was far better than riding a thrill ride, and he was happy to know that he would be waiting for us when we got done.

3. It made him feel like a kid.  This doesn't need much explaining, everyone feels like a kid within a few minutes of being in Disney.  And let's not lie, it's pretty excellent.

4. The love of his life loved Disney.  This is probably the biggest reason he loved it too.  That said, let me tell you the most important thing about my dodaddy.

He was married to my memomma (seriously I have no idea where I got these names).  And these past two weeks as I have been remembering him, it struck me how much I have also been remembering her.  At first that seemed odd, shouldn't my thoughts be focused on him right now?  Shouldn't he be the one I am missing and remembering and mourning?  Then it occurred to me that it makes total sense that my thoughts of him would lead me directly to thoughts of her.  So much of who he was, even in these past years since she has been gone, is wrapped up in her.  The two of them were a team.  They built a family out of a love that I envy, the kind of love I hope to experience in all of its richness one day (however I have a feeling it's pretty rare).  One thing that I have been overwhelmed with lately is how grateful I am to be a product of that love.  I owe a great deal of who I am to the two of them.  They chose to love unconditionally the people in their life, and they were darn good at it.  Without them, I wouldn't exist.  Without them, I wouldn't have the loving family that's do.  Without them, I might know a great deal less about what love really looks like.

This next little tidbit is probably my favorite, though it must be noted that it used to be my very least favorite thing about my dodaddy.  Without hesitation, he tried to set me up with every eligible male within an acceptable age range.  And I am really not exaggerating on this one.  My older cousins can attest to this (and let me tell you they were very happy when they finally got married and the torch was passed on to me, thanks for the solidarity ladies...).  From the next door neighbor, to the waiters at the restaurants we would go to, to the grandsons of his friends, he tried to set me up with them all.  Now, up until recently this was extremely annoying and slightly stressful.  However, these past couple weeks I realized something that I had never quite thought about before.  My dodaddy had a wonderful, long, committed, and loving marriage.  I really am not lying about their relationship just so I can say nice beautiful things now that they are gone.  They really and truly did have something rare and beautiful.  So it makes sense that he would want his precious granddaughters to experience the same love that comes from a relationship like he did.  So in his own way, it's like he was telling us just how valuable and wonderful he thought we were and just how much he wanted good and beautiful things for us.  In that light, I look back on all those awkward moments where my dodaddy asked waiters if they were single then pointed across the table at me, and I can remember them and smile, knowing how much I meant to him.  I only hope he knows how much he meant to me too, and something tells me he knew.  Because I am fairly certain he knew me pretty well.

He really was a good, strong, loving man.  And I'm not just saying that because it's what you do when you remember people and try to honor them.  I'll miss him, just like I miss her, but I can remember them with joy, knowing the lord made me a part of their family for a reason, knowing I am different because I am theirs, knowing that they knew how to love deeply, and knowing they left a lot of that love behind.

Tethers

When people ask me about my job, I typically tell them that I hang out in trees all day.  Today was one of those days, meaning that I was stationed on the high ropes course for 2 classes in the afternoon.  One of the things we do during the "upload" (which is what we call the time where we give instructions) is tell the kids what they should hold onto while they are out on the course.  My particular phrase usually sounds something like this, "So while you are on the course you can hold on to these wires above you, you can hold onto your tethers, or you can hold on to nothing.  If you choose to hold onto your tethers, the higher you hold the more stable and secure you will be, if you grab on down lower, you might feel wobbly and unstable."  Now, we don't have a script, but after you give these instructions a few hundred times, the speech starts to get memorized.  So I say those same words, almost exactly, every single time.  Seriously, I sound like a robot.

Nothing was different about today on the course.  I gave the upload like usual, except this time, when I said those words, something hit me.  I'm not sure what exactly, but I do know that I stumbled over the next few lines of instructions because my brain was going on a journey.  A new adventure that those words had never brought me into before.  Today, for some reason, those words did something to me.  So much so that my mood was instantly changed and my heart was at rest, no longer feeling stretched and strained and twisted like it does so often these days.  I heard myself say those words and in a fraction of a second this is the train my thoughts traveled away upon.

I wondered how different things would be if I took my own advice, holding on as high as I possibly could.  Not to my tethers, the ropes course is something that doesn't scare me in the least, but to God.  He is what is going to put my heart at rest and He is the only stability and sanity that is going to last.  What if I held on higher and higher, letting Him be my security?  What if I stopped trying to balance myself and simply reached up high, just like He calls me to do?  So often I try to figure things out logically.  I want answers and reasons and plans and explanations that make sense.  I want to fix things and I want control.  But what if I did what I ask these kids to do every day?  What if I stepped out in faith, grasping onto those metaphorical tethers as high as I possibly could, and just let myself go?  Leaving logic and reasoning behind, what would happen?

It amazes me just how much God can teach me in everyday things.  Today He reached right into what is probably one of the most mundane and repetitive things that I do and called me to Himself.  He used words I say every single day to penetrate to my very core, dealing with the instability and chaos that has defined my emotional life recently.  The higher I hold, the more stable and secure I will be.  Such simple words, but such deeply profound truth!

Running Away

Some of you know that I am currently applying to grad schools, some of which would move me across the country.  Now, while this might have terrified me last year, I am actually really excited about the idea of going back to school and having a new adventure in a new place.  I feel like the Lord is revealing more of what I was created for and leading me on to new things.  As with any change, this will mean leaving some things behind.  Some things will be sad to leave, while others I will be more than happy to put in my past.  The other day I was talking with a friend about this very thing, mentioning that there are certain things that I can’t wait to get away from, when he asked a question that struck me:

“What are you running from?”

Initially, I assured him I was not running away, just moving on and letting go of my life as I know it right now.  But it got me thinking, am I running away?  Which got me thinking, how would I even know if I’m running away?  What’s the opposite of running away?

This is what I came up with.

I think the opposite of “running away” is “claiming your freedom”.  And I think the defining factor that makes them different is the presence of fear.

Running away is what you do when you are scared or angry, which often comes as a package deal.  It’s what you do when you are afraid of the problems and messes you’ve gotten yourself into—when you don’t think you can stand things as they are anymore.  It’s what you do when you feel hopeless and out of answers, or when you think you’ve been wronged and you feel hurt and unloved.  It’s what you do when you realize things aren’t as they should be and you don’t know how to fix them.  You do it when you feel guilty and beyond repair.  We run because it’s easier than stinking around and dealing with the reality.  We run because we are scared.

Running away doesn’t require us to face our problems and it doesn’t include any sort of reconciliation or restoration.  There is no change, no closure, and no healing.  Running away is about what you are leaving, not what you are going to.  It centers on what was, not what will be.

Very similar in appearance is the act of claiming your freedom.  While it looks the same on the outside as running away (leaving one place or job or relationship for something different), it is entirely different in almost every other way.  It’s what you do when you are being called to something new—when you want to see change happen.  It’s what you do when your life is changing and you have to change with it.  We claim our freedom when we realize we are not what we were created to be and we desire to become those people.  We claim our freedom when we see that we are still living enslaved to things that we think still own us.  We claim our freedom when we realize we are free.

Claiming your freedom changes the current state of things.  There is closure and finality on the life we had and anticipation for the life we are moving into.  Instead of fear, claiming your freedom is restful.  It moves us to a new adventure, closer to becoming the people we were created to be.  It is fulfilling and life-giving, not littered with pain and brokenness.  Claiming your freedom brings healing to the past and changes your heart.  Claiming your freedom is about what you are moving on to, not what you are leaving.  It centers on what is and will be, not what was.

Do you see the contrast?  Do you see that you are free?  Do you live in that freedom, or are you running from something?

God does not have us run from problems, He has us face them and deal with them.  He did not run from the cross, He finished the job.  Moses ran from Egypt in fear, but God had him go back to free his people, and then leave again—but this time he left in freedom, not in fear.  Jacob returns home to meet Esau, returning to the land he was meant for.  None of these were the easy way out.  All of them involve struggling through hard situations to get to the point where people could be free and fulfill the lives they were meant for.  And all of those people had to have a great deal of faith and trust in the Lord.  They had to follow His leading.

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”  [2 Corinthians 3:17]

That’s the other part of this, I am realizing that freedom requires following the Spirit completely.  Without that, we are trying to control things.  Without that, we are running scared in our own self-centered world.  But the Lord leads His people into freedom.  He does not settle for the easy way out, avoiding the harder situations and problems, but instead leads His people through the dessert—for 40 years—to freedom.  He doesn’t say it will be easy and He doesn’t say it will always be happy, but he leads us to freedom.  And I am learning over and over again that true freedom is infinitely better than any temporary comfort you could attempt grasp for yourself.

“For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.”  [Romans 8:2]

So I haven’t decided yet if I am running away or taking hold of my freedom, maybe right now it’s a little bit of both.  Either way, God is gracious.  He will lead me into the freedom He bought for me whether I understand the road I am on or not.  He is not going to let me run scared while I refuse to deal with things that need to be dealt with.  And He will free me from those things and lead me on into His goodness and love.  This is the God I serve—a God of freedom and relentless love.  I have already been set free, all I have to do is claim it for myself and leave the fear behind.  You are already free, my friends, claim your freedom.