House on the Rock

What a year it has been! 2019 has been filled with an innumerable amount of blessings and lessons and as I sit here and reflect on the past twelve months, I can honestly say they have been some of my favorites of all time. One of my favorite ways to praise God is to reflect on His faithfulness, so I'm composing a flyover recap of 2019...mostly for my own sake, and yours too if you're bored. January: The year kicked off with a cinematic airport scene of me tossing my bags behind me and running into the arms of Maggie Theaker, my best friend who had been studying abroad in Ireland. We picked our bags right back up and boarded a plane to Belize with sixteen of my other best friends. The month was filled with laughter, deep conversations, sharing books, playing with children, teaching grammar, and exploring God's creation. I graded sentence diagrams and snorkeled, climbed ancient ruins and taught adjectives. God made it clear that I am meant to be a teacher, and this confirma...

It's the week after Christmas and the town is still donned in light-woven garland that rivals the stars. Christmas was different this year - a balmy 60 degrees with sunshine that turned snow piles into puddles and allowed high-strung mothers to send their children to the streets: "Go try out that new bike!" Those of us who have lived in Indiana for any time at all have given up on singing White Christmas and now begrudgingly resign ourselves to the Hallmark channel's fireplace motion picture on Grandma's 42-inch screen - desperate for any hopes of feeling the wintry warmth that comes with a traditional Christmas. my family also ate at Pizza Hut this year, which is unusual but not altogether unsurprising. Dad as a pastor had to emcee two Christmas Eve services and felt that a greasy deep-dish buffet was a more welcoming (or time-effective) feast to celebrate Christ the coming King. We took our family pictures on the 60-degree day clad in denim on denim, a custom I ...

No word from the Lord will ever fail. All his promises will come true. His name can be fully relied upon - we can ask and expect that he'll move. For Israel, it was deliverance. For Elizabeth, it was a son. For Rahab, it was protection and Daniel, an escape from lions. For David, it was forgiveness - restoring the joy of salvation. For Abraham, it was fatherhood of nation upon manifold nation. For Moses, it was an answer. For the blind man, it was his sight. For a world of weary darkness, it's an everlasting light. For God's children, the promise is Jesus - the vine in which we abide. An all-sufficient savior whose death completely satisfied. That promise is sufficient - it's all I'll ever need. I can sing a song like Mary for his promises unto me. That's not the promise of a child, a family, or even a spouse. It's not a promise of a white picket fence surrounding a wooden-framed house. It's not a promise of a high-paying job ...

I cling to my agenda, Lord please answer in my time It's hard for me to remember that thy will be done, not mine. I think I know when things should change, hearts heal, and relationships end but then you make me wait a little which makes me think again. I cling to my agenda but you pry my fingers open you take away the schedule that I love to put my hope in. When prayers are answered right away, it takes very little faith which is why sometimes you let us pray and wait and pray and wait. But as much as I cling to my agenda and think I know what's best, you let all things work out in time so with that, my heart can rest.

Father, when I think of suffering, help me to think of your son. Who was beaten, whipped, and spat upon for sins that he had not done. Most times when I hear the word 'suffering,' I often just think about me because some people said some mean words which I deserved completely! But Jesus was mocked and crucified on a Roman cross, daunting and tall and here's the thing about the suffering of Christ - he didn't deserve it at all.

When tears become a lullaby and my pillow is once again soaked with the cascade of sorrow's abundance, I am held by the arms of a Savior who has felt his own tears fall in rivers. He knows what it feels like to be betrayed by those he once called friend. He surely knows what it is like to toss and turn at night, restlessly working to fill his mind with truth in an effort to drown out the words spoken against him. He has been blistered by uncharacteristic words that suit him like the shoes of a child - painfully unfitting, poking so he walks uneasily. He knows what it like to be hated and blamed and falsely accused, for beguilement to cover him like a heavy blanket and for discouragement to be donned as a crown of many thorns. He has watched the sun rise to welcome the morning to a world that would hate him, and yet he loved them. He has knelt on the rock, brought so low and bent to the point of breaking, only to cry out - Father, forgive them. He has watched as greed pushed his bro...

May I be humble enough to take the knives that are spoken about me and let them carve me into a softer, smoother shape. may i never allow them to pierce beyond repair but always to saw away the sharp edges of myself that could otherwise hurt those who come near me. may my edges be soft so that those who bump by me are never wounded, and may these knives never stay inside me except to bring refinement renewal and a reminder to be softer.

My parents aren't firefighters, but in a way, they kind of are. Time and time again, I've seen their relaxing Saturday nights interrupted by a tear-filled phone call - a marriage falling apart, a sick child, an unsaved family member leaving again - and without hesitation, they are heading out the door and into the flames. I've seen them drop everything to be by someone's side, to walk with them through dark seasons, and to carry them through the crisis at hand. The fire is usually something that starts small - a disagreement, a nagging wife, a lazy husband, a kid who won't obey. But my parents aren't around for the small fires. No one calls 911 when a candle is burning. It's not until the walls start collapsing and the smoke is so thick that they cannot make it through themselves. By the time my parents show up, the fire has engulfed the home and the family inside - in one way or another - is slowly being destroyed. By the time my parents are even called, ...

My beloved student body, When we got to Taylor University as freshmen, we were blessed to experience a powerful feet-washing ceremony. Surrounded by thirty of our closest friends and the ambient hum of worship music, we were prayed over, serenaded by songs of joy, and tightly hugged with cheerful thanksgiving. At the end of the ceremony, teary-eyed upperclassmen knelt to wash our feet. I remember being a bit uncomfortable as I watched four beautiful upperclass girls bend down and gently take hold of my ankles. My feet were stained with dirt from running around the lake, and years of being an athlete left me with blisters and bruises around my toes. However, as they dipped my feet into the water and wrapped a towel around them to clean them, I was suddenly unaware of the flaws in my feet. Those flaws didn't matter to the servants who were willing to wash me, regardless of my messiness. It's the exact same story that happens in John 13 when Jesus kneels to wash his disciple...

To the one whose existence stretches beyond time, could it be that your wisdom reaches beyond mine? To the one who brought the earth to life with just his voice - could it be that you already know the outcome of this choice? All-surpassing wisdom and knowledge you possess so why do I allow all my unknowns to cause me stress? Surely since you know all things, you know about this too. So father, guide me. Lead me please - I don't know what to do.

How do we praise when things look the same every day? When life never changes and routine straps us in and holds us back from breaking free? How do we sing a new song to the God who never changes? It looks like breathing in the splatter-painted sunsets and rolling clouds that tower like mountains draped along the modest midwest sky. It looks like the first spring flower and an army of believers singing hallelujah. It looks like coffee with a friend that God has faithfully found for you and it looks like the change to come back home. It looks like eggs in the dining hall - and I mean the rare days with real eggs - not the powdery bagged mysteries from mornings before. It looks like dolphin fins disrupting the surface of the waves at the exact moment you look toward the sea - like letters from grandma and classmates who pick up your plate because they care. It looks like dancing with the legs he gave you and laughing by the joy he brings. it looks like good books and summer nights and sn...

I'm learning that college friendships are the best but they're also the most brutal. Especially at a school like Taylor, where "intentional community" permeates every inch of the campus, it feels  necessary to be constantly surrounded by six or seven or twenty-five friends at all times. The friendships are harder because you never really get a break from anyone, and people want to go deeper, which means raw confrontation, rich conversation, and a readiness to call each other out. It's a time of road trips and spontaneous sleepovers and hometown visits getting to know people deeply, but that doesn't mean it's easy. Don't get me wrong, God has been so faithful in providing friendships at Taylor. My former roommates, famously deemed "The Maggies," are my constant companions and probably know more about me than I know about myself. When the Maggies aren't around, there are several girls on my wing that I can call up for dinner. I've had...

Dear Future Cali, It's funny, now, because time has passed and the days behind you seem so small. College flew by and now you're out doing what you've always dreamed of doing - or maybe not, but you're doing what God has planned for you. You're seeing that life is a mist and it's passing so quickly, but you've come a long way. You have learned so much and God has shaped you in ways you never thought possible. So as the time passes and sunsets turn to sunrises and years go by, don't forget the lessons you have learned. Don't forget the way God found you when you were at your absolute worst. Don't forget how he continued to wait for you and pursue you through your rebellion, and how he welcomed you with open arms when you finally took a step toward repentance. Don't forget how sneaking around with the wrong guy destroyed you, but worse, how it destroyed your parents' trust and the way your siblings looked up to you. Don't forget tha...

One of my favorite moments of the trip happened on a Sunday morning in the breezeway. The breezeway was a favorite spot because it was surrounded by palm trees and offered a beautiful place to hammock where the gentle breeze would disrupt the humid air. The breezeway was a place where you couldn't feel temperature. Weather was something you didn't really notice, because it was perfect. It didn't have a chill that brought goosebumps and it didn't bring a sweat-inducing heat. It was so perfect it was nearly intangible. These details aren't really relevant to the story, but it's worth acknowledging how much this location meant to me. It is where my most impactful quiet times happened, my richest conversations, and the moments where God spoke to me most.  This happened beautifully, like I said, on a Sunday morning. We were planning on going to a church in Belmopan (the capital city) called LifeNet. Because the tire on our bus was slashed, we had a bit more ti...

Stepping into a new year always feels a bit overwhelming. Even though it's nothing more than the turn of a calendar, it feels like the perfect time for a fresh start. A change. Time to refresh, rejuvenate, and refocus. A time to celebrate the past year and look forward to the year ahead.  2018 was a year of immeasurable, unimaginable growth. I experienced heart change, surrender, wandering through the wilderness, laughter, misery, desperate prayers, angry tears, and the faithful friendship and Fatherhood of God through it all. It was a year of stripping away selfishness and learning to love better. It was a year of being unshakable as I stood on the firm foundation of my Savior.  I didn't always make the right decision, and I certainly didn't always come out on top. I failed time and time again. I handled situations poorly. I feared when I should have trusted. I gossiped when I should have prayed. I sinned, but God forgives and redeems an...

I will never forget standing on these rocks in Galilee, just a few hundred feet above the sea that was notorious for its ship-smashing storms. These waters were rough - home to winds and waves so powerful that only the voice of God himself could calm the raging surges of rushing water. T he sea is 700 feet below sea level, and its location makes it subject to sudden violent storms as the eastern wind drops over the sea. Needless to say, these waters are rough.  However, standing on these rocks that tower several hundred feet above the sea, we were completely uplifted from the chaos below. In fact, we were lifted so high above the waters that we were able to simply look down on the waters and from where we stood, the storms seemed small.  As I looked out over the waters, I thought about the storms that abounded in my own life. Conflict between friends, fear of disappointing others, jealousy, heartache, broken relationships, loved ones lost, the destructio...