"It is good that you are here."

This phrase has been the theme of my prayers this summer. It has been both a comfort and a cry to God when I can no longer find my way. "It is good that You are here, because I can't do this." It's a good thing we weren't made to handle things on our own, and that we have a God who can ;) 

My summer has been and will continue to be filled with surprises, adventures, and lessons...many of which my stubborn self is very hesitant to learn. I'm learning to take care of myself physically, which means slowing down and figuring out my health rather than my usual "go until nothing is left" philosophy. I'm being reminded how important it is to be an example of faith to those around me (especially my family), even if that means standing alone. In so many ways I am learning how to be there with others through grief and confusion as our small town is rocked with accidents and deaths of loved ones. I am learning to forgive, to trust, to allow Christ to lead me on into whatever the next adventure may be.

"It is good that you are here."

This holds true wherever "here" is for you-in your parents' house or out of the country, in your dream job or no job, in the best or the hardest of times. It is good that you are here. We have a God who knows our hearts better than we know our own...after all, he created them, right? He knows when we need consoled and when we have just enough strength to finish the job. He know when we are about to burst with joy; he knows when we feel alone, helpless, abandoned. He knows what we need, not what we want....and that is exactly what he will give us. I am in awe that we have a God so great that all things work together for good. Joy, despair, tragedy, hopelessness, truth, goodness, beauty and lies....they ALL work together for the glory of a kingdom so much greater than our own.

May today you find peace in knowing that where you are, there also is Christ. My brothers and sisters, it is good that you are here.

The Beauty of Brokenness

Brokenness. It's such a horrible sounding word for something so full of beauty. The last few weeks have been rough for me-insanely blessed, busy, and amazing-but rough nonetheless. Today, I hit the end of my rope. After running face-first into the solid steel walls I've built around myself, I lost it. Conveniently, I'd also just agreed to take a friend's adoration hour (classic, right?). After walking into the chapel, I found myself starting to journal out of habit. My pen only seemed willing to form one sentence onto the paper: "Why do you want me?" I was so far gone from Christ, had pulled myself down there, and I was beyond the point of ever trying to get out. 

I guess it was a good thing that I had nothing left, because that's where grace stepped in. 

We may not be whole-actually, let's be honest. We're horribly broken. But He comes to us anyway, and that's the beauty of grace. We have a Lord so good, so kind, so unbelievably forgiving and loving that even the depths of hell will not keep him from us. There isn't any beauty in a million puzzle pieces unless they are a part of something bigger-they're just pieces until a child begins to make a picture. An empty canvas is lacking until an artist begins their work. We do not reach the beauty we are capable of until we allow grace to step in.

We were not made to be whole; we were to be made whole by a God who loves us unceasingly. 

May you realize the beauty in our brokenness and allow Christ to work through it in His amazing way.