Choosing Gratitude.

Sometimes I start to write a post and constantly find myself hitting the backspace button over and over, because I really just don’t know what to say. This is one of those times. A post I feel should be filled with so much heartache, but I am instead finding so much gratitude in my heart. 

Some say that time heals all things, but I completely disagree. Time doesn’t heal things, but if we allow it, time can shift the attitude of our hearts. That is what I have learned over the past 12 years.

My father said goodbye to this world, and hello to heaven, but today, the day before the clock strikes midnight and it officially has been twelve years, I choose gratitude.

I choose gratitude for the little things, like my love of every sport known to man, for my sense of competitiveness, for my ability to talk to just about anyone, for the joy that I find in the simplest things. All things my dad installed in me.

I choose gratitude for the big things, like the understanding of how important family is, for the ability to have confidence to speak up when no one else will, to go the extra mile for someone just because, and above all, to love Jesus, because He is what matters in this life. All things my dad taught me.

Gratitude says look at what has been, instead of what hasn’t been.

There have been many moments that I would find myself whispering into the night, through tears, the simple wish for him to just be here for something.

To see me play softball or volleyball.

To see me step on a stage in front of thousands of people and speak.

To see me coach my first game.

But when I stopped long enough and asked Jesus to help me see the good, I started to realize…all the things I so desperately wanted him to be here for, where all things that he played such a part in.

I wouldn’t have played sports if he hadn’t made me fall in love with them.

I wouldn’t have stepped onto that stage that day if he hadn’t taught me to be bold.

I wouldn’t have decided to be a coach if I hadn’t watched him be one for so many years.

I stopped looking at was wasn’t there of him, and started looking at what was there of him… in me.

And in all of it, there has been Jesus. Every step He took up to Calvary was Him ensuring that despite my earthly father not being here, I would still go through life with someone to call Father. He established a place where cancer couldn’t win. He gives us hope through the promise of heaven.

I choose gratitude because of the parts of my dad that live on through me.

I choose gratitude because cancer doesn’t get to win.

I choose gratitude because I have never once been fatherless, and never once walked this journey alone.

I choose gratitude because there was death, but there has been much life.

“You're a good, good father.

It's who You are, it's who You are,

it's who You are.

And I'm loved by you.

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am.”

-HouseFires

Jesus, I am sorry for questioning you.

Confusion starts as single gust of wind but then spirals into a tornado quicker than you could ever imagine. Doubt is one wave crashing into the shore, but then rapidly becomes a hurricane. When one of them or both of them enter into our lives the only thing they bring about is destruction. But at the center of both that tornado and hurricane are simply unanswered questions.

Car crashes, gravesides, addiction, miscarriages, cancer… the list could go on on. In this life it in inevitable at one point or another we will stare face to face with something that leaves us with questions we never thought we would have to ask. It is when we don’t find the answers to those questions that doubt and confusion take a seat on our hearts and they sit back and watch the destruction let loose.

And for those of who have been there, we can all agree that everyone seems to know the answers you are searching for, but more than you wish for answers you wish people would just for a lack of better words, shut up.

Job gets it.

[Job 16:1-4] 

If you were in my shoes:

I’ve had all I can take of your talk.
What a bunch of miserable comforters!
Is there no end to your windbag speeches?
What’s your problem that you go on and on like this?
If you were in my shoes,
I could talk just like you.
I could put together a terrific harangue
and really let you have it.

I am just going to pause and say an amen real quick to all of what Job just said.

Let me give you a little background info for where we are at right now with Job. Most of us know the story of Job. Here in chapter 16 Job is having a conversation with Eliphaz and Temaninte. Eliphaz and Temaninte are trying to make sense of Job’s hardships for Him. But like we read above Job gets to the point where he just can’t take it anymore. He is tired of the long speeches and all their talk. It is when he gets to this point that Job is honest in a way most of would never be.

[Job 16: 12-16]

All was well with me, but he shattered me;

He seized me by the neck and crushed me.
He has made me his target;
his archers surround me.
Without pity, he pierces my kidneys
and spills my gall on the ground.

Again and again he bursts upon me;
he rushes at me like a warrior.

I have sewed sackcloth over my skin
and buried my brow in the dust.
My face is red with weeping;
dark shadows ring my eyes….

Maybe you have been there. Maybe you have felt shattered, or crushed. Maybe you have felt like you had a target on you and everything was aiming straight at you. Maybe your face has been red because of weeping.

Job chapters 16-37 are filled with complaints, with questions, with confusion, and with doubt. Job doesn’t hold anything back… but “finally, God answered Job from the eye of a violent storm.” (Job 38:1)

The Lord tells Job it is His turn to ask the question. (Job 38:3)

[Job 38: 4-11]

Where were you when I created the earth?

Tell me, since you know so much!
Who decided on its size? Certainly you’ll know that!
Who came up with the blueprints and measurements?
How was its foundation poured,
and who set the cornerstone,
While the morning stars sang in chorus
and all the angels shouted praise?
And who took charge of the ocean

when it gushed forth like a baby from the womb?
That was me! I wrapped it in soft clouds,
and tucked it in safely at night.

Jesus shows Job that He was listening to every cry that ever left his mouth. He shows him that He has heard all his questions. Jesus is saying to Job that he needs to stop for a moment and look at all that He has already done and remember all that He is able to do and ask himself can he do any of that.

But Jesus is also telling us that today.

He wants us to stop and look at all that He has done and be reminded of all that He is able to do.

The question most time is “how could God let this happen?”

But I think the real question today is “how could we question a God that is so much greater than ourselves?”

[Job 42:1-6]

I’m convinced: You can do anything and everything.

Nothing and no one can upset your plans.
You asked, ‘Who is this muddying the water,
ignorantly confusing the issue, second-guessing my purposes?’
I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me,
made small talk about wonders way over my head.
You told me, ‘Listen, and let me do the talking.
Let me ask the questions. You give the answers.’
I admit I once lived by rumors of you;
now I have it all firsthand—from my own eyes and ears!
I’m sorry—forgive me. I’ll never do that again, I promise!

Job admits his stupidity in questioning Jesus. He realizes he spoke of things that were far beyond his knowledge, and then he repents.

Most of the time our questions are things that even if Jesus answered we would still not understand because His ways are higher than ours. His ways are incomprehensible

How different would our lives look if we realized when we question Jesus we are the ones in the wrong, not Him.

I am giving you and me full permission to be as honest as Job was and to ask as many questions that you need to ask, but I am challenging us to not let our hearts stay in that place.

Let’s learn from Job that you can be shattered, crushed, and your eyes can be red with weeping. You can be in a place that has your life screaming questions at Jesus, but you can move back to the place of knowing He can do anything and everything, and knowing nothing and no one can upset His plans.

But Job only got there through repentance.

Have your tornado of confusion.

Have your hurricane of doubt.

Ask your questions.

But then repent.

This is Why: Part II

For those of you who know me, or keep up with my blog you know all about the first "this is why" post and how unexpectedly it took off and spread like wildfire. For those of you who don't know the story you can read it here. Part I 
(you are going to want to read that before this.)

However, today I have a new story for you.

I have entered into a whole new season of life this year. I started college three weeks ago and that in itself is a whole new world. I also entered into my first season of coaching volleyball for my old high-school. My days go a little like this..... class, drive to practice, eat lunch will driving to practice, practice for two hours, dinner, homework, shower (sometimes), bed, and then wake up and do it all over again. Throw in a game once or twice a week, which means late nights and homework being started after 10 o'clock and you have my week. To sum it up, I think I am always tired, and I am always trying to catch up. Talk about a wake up call. This time last year I would wake up every single day and struggle to find something to do. I went from one extreme to another, and from being tired of the rest to longing for rest.

Don't get me wrong, I am loving every second of this new chapter. It might be crazy, but sometimes crazy is good. But the past week or so I have found struggle because the business has taken away the countless hours out of the week that I used to spend with a precious 8 year old girl and her brothers (the same little girl mentioned in the other post). I would see instagram post their mom would put up of the kids and I would feel so full of shame, because Satan was whispering in my ear, "you left them." But Satan does't get the last word. Jesus ensured that when He hung on the cross on top of calvary. When He spoke out, "it is finished," He was also telling Satan he was finished.

I love the girls I get to coach, but from the get go there has been one that I was just drawn to. We just clicked. She is a junior so technically she isn't suppose to be on my team, but because she just transferred from a public school to a private school she wasn't eligible to play varsity. Lets just stop right there for a second.... she shouldn't even be on my team, but she is.

This past Saturday we played in a tournament at Norcross Highschool. But leading up to Saturday I had a player call me last minute and tell me she wasn't coming, and another one tell me Friday night that she was sick. My stress level was through the roof. When my alarm went off at 5:30 Saturday morning I was flat out just irritated. I didn't want to go. Oh and on top of all of that, we didn't have keys to our bus so we were late to our game, and the gym we were playing in didn't have air condition.

But, the day went on.

After our first game we had an our break, so the girls were all sitting at a table in the lunchroom eating some snacks, and I was just small talking with some of the parents.

I sat down across from the mom of the girl I told you earlier about, the one I just clicked with. She had just met my mom the night before at the football game. That is crazy in itself because my mom never goes to football games, but she did that night because my niece was performing in the half time show. One thing led to another, and somehow I ended up showing her a picture of my family, and was telling her who everyone looked like. After pointing to my older brother and saying, "he looks just like my dad did," she then asked me, "did your dad pass away?" I answered, "yes mam, when I was eight." Expecting a typical response of, "I am so sorry," she looked and me and said, "did my daugher tell you her dad died when she was nine?"

déjà vu huh?

I looked at her mom with a blank stare because I instantly understood. The same way I understood why I was so drawn to a little girl in a 1st grade tent, I understood why I was drawn to a 17 year old girl on a volleyball team. I then told her mom the story of how this has happened to me before, and how I knew there was something about her daughter all along, but that I couldn't pin point it, and she sat in just as much amazement as I did.

For this to happen once in someones life is one thing, but it to happen twice... whoah.

My heart that was so full of shame was stripped of all shame, and was filled with the simple phrase once again, "this is why." Granted my heart still misses that little girl, and I know she will forever be a part of my life, but Jesus has made it so clear to me that my story, and my life isn't just meant to be shared with one person. If I let Him, He wants to make Himself known not to just one person, but to many. Your story isn't just meant to be shared with one person. Your story is meant to be shared with every person. 

I knew that when I walked into this new chapter that it was exactly where Jesus wanted me to go, but I didn't really understand why He was asking me to step away, for a time, from 3 kids that I knew I had been called to. But a 17 year old girl answered my question. 

In a way it was also Jesus saying, "hey, I know you think you are here to make these girls better volleyball players but you are here for so much more than that."

The beautiful thing was that I simply didn't want to go to this tournament, as bad as that is. Everything was going all wrong. I was mad, tired, and it was the last place I wanted to be.... but it was the exact place Jesus wanted me to be.

Jesus has made is so clear to me that even the days that leave us questioning not only ourself but sometimes even questioning Him are not excluded from the days He wants to reveal Himself to us. On the worst of days, Jesus is near. 

A dear friend told me one night in his kitchen this Summer that, "sometimes one calling ends, so another calling can begin." 

That's it.

Maybe Jesus is calling you somewhere right now but you are fighting it, and questioning it because you know that where you are is where at one time you were confident Jesus wanted you to be. That might be the case, but my friend said it best... sometimes one calling ends, so another can begin. 

Isaiah 43:17-19

"This is what God says,
the God who builds a road right through the ocean,
who carves a path through pounding waves,
The God who summons horses and chariots and armies—
they lie down and then can’t get up;
they’re snuffed out like so many candles:
Forget about what’s happened;
don’t keep going over old history.
Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new."

[Be alert. Be present. I am about to do something brand-new.]

Be alert friends, Jesus wants to do something new. Don't find yourself in love with being comfortable. But instead be willing to go at all times. Be ready for the "new."

And when you take that step of faith into the "new" and begin to question, lean it. He will answer. He will show you... "this is why."

For The Girls Who Want To Hear From Their Dads.

This entry was originally posted on Dearly Beloved. Check out their website for incredible doses of grace for your day. 

I sat in that chair in the movie theater while the credits rolled, and the ability to move vanished, leaving me paralyzed. The movie? Safe Haven. No, I wasn’t having another hopeless romantic moment. I was taken to a place of sudden realization and a romantic reaction was the farthest thing from my mind.

Shattered . . . that was me.

In this movie, there is a family. A dad, a mom, a daughter, and a son. If you want the whole story, just watch the movie. But there is a one specific part of the movie that took a knife straight into the broken pieces of my heart–pieces I had thought over the years had been mended back together–and shattered them back into a million more pieces. Picture a little kid who has a puzzle with 1000 pieces and overtime works a little at a time to finish it, and then some one comes along and knocks the puzzle off the table and he has to start all over again . . . that was me.

As the movie goes along the audience comes to find out that the mom passed away because of cancer when the kids were little. But she leaves her son and daughter these letters. A letter for her daughter on her wedding day. A letter for her son on his graduation day. A letter for the defining moments of their lives that she would miss, but that she wanted to somehow speak into.

Being almost 20, and living the past 11 years of my life without a father, there have been so many moments where I would have done almost anything to have my dad’s own words being spoken over my life. The night before my high-school graduation I sat in the floor of my mom’s closet looking at old pictures weeping, because the never ending desire of wanting to know “what would he say to me today” was consuming.

Anger is the raging fire that consumes the arsonist. That day I was the arsonist and I was going up in a million flames.

Why didn’t my dad write me letters?

Maybe you are like me. Maybe your dad knew that his days were numbered and yet still chose to leave behind nothing. Maybe you aren’t like me. Maybe your dad had no idea that his days were coming to end sooner than ever imagined. Maybe your dad isn’t physically gone at all, but he chooses to be. Maybe you dad is there, but he chooses everything else before choosing you.

Pick any of them, and I can assure you a daughter who has a father that is absent in any way is longing to hear something, anything.

The anger that birthed in my heart that day was a wildfire. It didn’t just take days to put out, it took months and months. My heart shifted though–a shift that was brought about by a simple thought of how many other girls were out there that were not only without a father too, but were without that same letter I dreamed of. You see, when our hearts make that shift from anger, resentment, pity, and sorrow to acceptance and compassion, our hearts soften. When our hearts soften they become open and willing to see purpose. I can’t write you that letter, but I can remind you of the letter that has already been written instead of the one that never was.

Right now you might be the mother of an 8 year old daughter who won’t read this post until she is older. Right now you might be the 15 year old girl dreading the idea of a sweet 16. Right now you might be the girl about to go off to college. Right now you might be the woman about to get married. It is in those moments that you are reminded again and again that he isn’t here.

Just know that no matter how much I can understand where you are, or relate to your circumstance, there is nothing I could ever give you that would be what you need. There is nothing I can ever say that will help. But Jesus can. He is what you need, and His words not only help they heal.

Jesus is what you need,
and His words not only help
they heal.

I didn’t have those letters like the characters in the movie. But Jesus walked with me hand in hand to where I am now maybe for one purpose . . . To assure those of you who don’t have your earthly father speaking over you on a day to day basis, and those of you who are left behind like me with nothing . . . that you are going to make it. Maybe my job is to assure the mom of that little girl . . . she is going to make it.

And this is why.

Nothing your earthly father could say will ever be enough.
But everything that Jesus says is enough.

That letter you are craving, you have it. It is available to you today and everyday. His word, His promises, that is the only letter you will ever need. That is the letter that will get you through those nights when you are thinking, “What would he say to me today?”

The only way to come out of it is to go through it. The only way to go through it is to admit that you are where you are.

For those of you who are in that state of anger do NOT be ashamed. The only way to come out of it is to go through it. The only way to go through it is to admit that you are where you are. It won’t go away over night, but rest in the fact that you have a Heavenly Father that is speaking out not only something, but exactly what you need to hear today and everyday.

This is what your Father writes to you. This is your letter.

To the girl who just needs to hear her father say her name:

“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God…” (1 John 3:1)

He claims you as His child. He calls you His daughter.

To the girl who needs to know that she is not fatherless:

” . . . a father to the fatherless.” (Psalm 68:5)

He is your Father.

To the girl who wants her father to know how much pain she is in:

“Praise be to the Lord, to God our savior who daily bears our burdens.” (Psalm 68:19)

He not only sees your pain, He bears it with you.

To the girl who feels like her father doesn’t listen:

“You, Lord, know the desired of the afflicted, you encourage them, and listen to their cry.” (Psalm 10:17)

He is listening.

To the girl who feels helpless and unprotected:

” . . . defending the fatherless, and the oppressed so that mere earthly mortals will never strike terror again.” (Psalm 10:18)

He defends you.

To the girl who longs to have her father hold her:

“If you’ll hold on to me for dear life,” says God, “I’ll get you out of any trouble. I’ll give you the best of care if you’ll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times.”(Psalm 91:14-16)

That letter we thought was never written . . . it was written. Read it. Believe it. Cling to it. Breathe it in.

Remember,  His words are greater than anything anyone could offer you.