1 Samuel 3:18

This week the college where I attend hosted a lectureship where several people came to speak over the book of 1 Samuel. I enjoyed it - partly because I only had to attend one class in three days but mainly because I was intrigued by the different views each speaker had on the text.

We spoke of the strength of Hannah and Abigail - how they both were bold women of God in their own ways and how they both remained faithful to God despite the tough circumstances they were in. We talked of the bond between David and Jonathan and of how the two continually spurred each other along so that they became closer than brothers. We discussed Saul's pursuit to kill David and of how crazy yet how wise it was for David to not murder Saul on two different occasions because God had put Saul in that position but only because that was what the people had wanted. We were reminded of how deeply Samuel was hurt when the people of Israel were in desperate want of a king because they weren't rejecting him, but even worse, rejecting God.

During one particular lecture, Spencer Furby spoke on 1 Samuel 3, so here it is in a nutshell:

Samuel was ministering to Eli and in those days the word of the Lord was rare. One night, Eli was asleep and Samuel was laying down close to where the ark of the covenant was. The Lord called Samuel three different times, but each time Samuel thought it was Eli calling him so he ran over to him each time. The third time, Eli told Samuel, "Go, lie down, and if He calls you, you shall say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.'" So Samuel did what he was told and went to lie down in his place, and when the Lord called, he did what he was told. But then the Lord told him some not so great news. He told Samuel that He would punish Eli's house forever and ever because his sons were blaspheming against God and Eli did not stop them. The next morning Samuel awoke, nervous and disappointed I'm sure and had to tell the entire vision to Eli. Instead of Eli being sorrowful or angry, he said, "It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him."

----

Maybe, today, you're aching due to the loss of a loved one, and maybe all you want to do is talk to them, to be with them one last time, when that's not even possible. Maybe you're dreading the funeral, where everyone will see you sob or want to pay their respects when in all honesty you just want to be alone. And maybe you're not so sure how to move on after this or how to cope with the fact that you lost someone important to you. It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him.

Maybe you just moved somewhere where you don't know anyone or where you're not familiar with the place at all. Maybe you feel really alone and really homesick to where you were once before. Maybe you feel unsure of the goodness of the future or maybe the future there isn't something you look forward to. It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him.

Maybe you're in the midst of a divorce or your parents' divorce. Maybe you're so frustrated at the division of your family that it's all you think about, to the point where you can't sleep. Maybe you're scared of not seeing someone in your family again because of it or maybe you're scared of where you'll end up. Maybe it skews your image of what a family is supposed to be in the first place. It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him.

Or maybe you just went through a breakup with the one you thought you were going to be with for the rest of your life. Maybe you can't go anywhere like your favorite restaurant or the park or even the local super market without thinking about a memory the two of you had there. Maybe when you hear that song on the radio that the two of you jammed out to makes your stomach drop before you switch the station, and maybe you can't imagine anyone being better for you than they were right now. It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him.

And maybe - along the same lines and sometimes even worse - you had a fall out with a friend that cannot seem to be fixed. Maybe all you can think about is how you want to talk to them about it but you can't because for once the problem is between the two of you. Maybe all you have left are memories of the past few years with nothing but them in it. Maybe you're unsure of how you got here - how you wound up losing a friend that had been there all along until now. It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him.

Maybe I am totally wrong. Maybe it is none of these things. But we all have something that has or will hurt or hinder us in some way, whether that's right now or in the past or in the near or far future. If you feel alone or small or not good enough due to circumstance, this is for you. If you feel like you'll never get over your bump in the road, once again, this is for you.

I know what you're probably thinking. Tarah, what in the world? None of the previous things you described are good in any way. 

And you're right. None of those things are easy things to deal with. Whatever you're dealing with isn't easy. If you're going through a hardship right now, you're probably seeking clarity and asking questions and just when you think you may get an answer you probably have more questions after that.

But in Romans 8:28 I read that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose. 

All things work together for good. Not just the good things. The bad things too. And you know - sometimes that really stinks, but I mean isn't that super comforting, too? Our God is so mighty that He can take the absolute worst thing that you could imagine and work it for good for those who love Him. That's crazy, insane even, but in the middle of something difficult, I think it's easy to forget or fail to believe this.

But it really is the truest thing in that world - that God is always at work for you, making all things work for your good. He gives you the strength to press on, the peace to rest, the love to give to others, the grace that covers us so completely. So yes, you have many jobs to do, but ultimately your work is always, simply one thing: trust. 

Trust that God loves you so much that He wants to hear from you every day. Trust that He works through every good and bad thing going on in your life and trust that He is enough on the days where you're searching for something that only His love can fill. And trust that He is not slow in keeping promises and trust that He does not do one thing without revealing His will to His servants. Trust that the crucifixion of Jesus was very personal - that He wants to know you so badly that He sent Jesus so that you may be guiltless.

I read something the other day from Ann Voskamp that summarizes my thoughts completely:

...there is a plan and there is a purpose

and there is a God in Heaven who didn't

just ink you onto the palm of His hands

but etched your name right

into Himself with nails and

He hasn't just got your number,

He's got your heart.

He sees you, hidden in Him,

and you aren't ever forgotten

because God can't forget those right in Him,

because God's writing your story and

He never  leaves you alone in your story, and

His perfect love absorbs all your fear 

and His perfect grace carries

all your burdens

and your story is a happily ever after

because Christ bought your happily ever

after so you always know how this story ends: 

You're going to be okay.

All of these things that I just wrote are things that I struggle with and that I'm still learning to do. Trusting God through each and every thing is something that is hard for me, but I want my first instinct when something bad happens to be to run to God instead of away from Him. I want to seek what He is working out for me rather than being afraid. 

So today, I pray that each of us have the attitude of Eli - that no matter what is thrown at us that we may say, "It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him." I pray that we mean it. I pray that we believe it. 

"Trust in the Lord, and do good;

    dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.

Delight yourself in the Lord,

    and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord;

    trust in him, and he will act.

He will bring forth your righteousness as the light,

    and your justice as the noonday.

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him;

    fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way,

    over the man who carries out evil devices!"

-  Psalm 37: 3-7

"Blessed is the man whose trust is in the Lord,

whose trust is the Lord."

- Jeremiah 17:7

Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.

Haiti

It's Saturday morning. My eyes are puffy. I can't sleep. The silence is entirely too loud.

In Haiti, around 6 AM, the compound is everything but silent. The kids are up doing chores such as mopping or getting things ready for breakfast, and if they're not doing chores they're playing and giggling and well.. screaming. The rooster is loud too, but the rooster is also loud all of the time so that's not really new. I could hear the sound of shoes on gravel from my room as I would awake from a nice slumber and rub my eyes in annoyance because I could probably sleep some more.

But now it's Saturday morning, and my dorm room is really quiet. I wish it were noisy again.

The streets of Haiti, especially in Puert Au Prince, are bursting with energy at all times of the day as well. People everywhere are always up to something whether that is sweeping their porch, selling clothing or food or who knows what else, walking to work or school, or even just sitting there watching traffic.

A man on the street with a bucket of what looks like peanuts on his head catches my attention as he walks with a blank stare. Our eyes meet, and I offer a half hearted grin, but his face is hard just like many of those around him. I wonder what kind of things he has experienced and what he has seen. Does he know?


An hour later two little girls shout and jump up and down to try to get our team's attention, and once they succeed at that they wave. I wave in return and smile at the joy upon their faces. I feel like a celebrity for a brief moment. Do they know? 

A couple days go by and after I walk down to the school I see three children - two boys and a girl. Later I would find out that their names are Alecson, Genson, and Joanna. Alecson likes soccer and Genson likes to start tickle fights and Joanna is content with just having someone to sit by. It wasn't long before our team and these three became friends, and I can't help but wonder what their lives are like at home. Do they know? 

On our hike up the mountain Monday I see a surplus of individuals carrying water and a variety of things on their heads. I watch somewhat amazed at their posture and their balance as they steadily make their way up steep inclines and gently walk back down. When we reach our destination, eight children watch as the guys put bunk beds together for them in their tiny, hot house entirely composed of sticks. I know that these people have been through a lot in the past few days with the unexpected passing of their mother and moving from a cave into this small shelter. Do they know? 

Do they know that they are loved not only by me or by our team but by the One who made them? Do they know that they are lavished with grace that covers every sin they've ever committed and that they are bound by nothing but themselves and maybe even their own guilt? Do they know that if they choose to die to themselves and be washed in the water and in the blood that they then can be part of not an earthly but a heavenly kingdom where we can all dwell with God together for eternity? Do they know that they do not have to live up to the world's standards because we serve a God that tells us that we are enough because we are His? Do they know that our Father in Heaven sent us His own Son to be beaten and scarred and bruised and rejected so that we may not live in sin but rather so that we have a job to do? Do they know that there is so much joy to be found in taking on each day with the Lord because then we have a purpose? Do they know that they can find peace and rest in laying all of our burdens down at the foot of the cross? Do they know Jesus?

I can tell John Baptiste loves being in the pulpit by his excitement and passion as he speaks in a language I do not understand. I'm sure it's something we all need to hear, and I watch as he paces and proceeds to tell people of the God we serve. He's a kind man with a lot of ambition. He knows.

Tears surprise my eyes and I choke them back as each child at the orphanage come up to give me a hug after singing me happy birthday. I then turn to give Marieshelle a hug because after all this was all her doing, and as I thank her, I can't help but think of how much I want to be like her. She gave up a possible life in the States to be here, to make a difference. She knows.

Natacha clasps my hand as I turn away from saying goodbye to the kids, and I offer her a smile. She returns the gesture, but I can tell by the look on her face that she knows my emotions are bigger than my expression at the moment. She tells me goodbye and that she'll miss me, and I get off the bus. She takes care of the children at the orphanage, and I pray to be as well grounded as she is. She knows.

I look on as Chase narrates the story of the Good Samaritan while Johnny Lane translates it. I see the way that the kids look up to him, and I wonder where Hope For Haiti's Children would be without him. He's respectably sarcastic and always fun to be around. He knows.

Nassan, our body guard, wakes me up from shock by giving me a high five after I blocked a goal, and he waits patiently for me to throw him the ball. He has the ability to make ridiculously funny faces, and he is also always so helpful. He knows.

Jamie and David and I sit on the steps listening to the children practice singing for a program they have the next day, and I can't help but be grateful for the new found friendship between the three of us. Though he knows some English, we mainly communicate through broken fragments of it, and that is enough. He insists that we learn Creole though, so he teaches us four or five more words before we have to go to bed. Saying goodbye the next morning was a little more than hard. He knows.

While I wonder if some strangers know the Gospel in Haiti, I also know that these friends of mine are working day and night to make sure that they do. God places people everywhere to stand up for His Word, to be a light, to proclaim His name, and this week, as I saw people that were poor and weak, I also saw people that were poor and still spiritually rich. And to me, that is so encouraging and so uplifting.


---

It has been a week since I worked on this post mainly because I can't really convey my thoughts on my trip into words that would be enough. It's 3 in the morning now, and I'm still not getting much sleep since I've been back. I miss my friends. They live 1,637 miles away. They speak a different language. They were brought up in a totally different culture in all aspects. And yet, because the crucifixion of Jesus binds us together - against all odds - these people are my friends.

In reality, we all have so much more in common than we do distinctions. There's so much more that binds us together than what tears us apart. 

On our last night in Haiti, we sat on the rooftop just like we did every night, and we had a quick devotional. We sang and we reminisced and we laughed and we cried. Our perspectives were changed, and our hearts were a little broken. We talked of how we would fight for these people with spiritual warfare and of how short the trip seemed and of how God was at work there, just like He is here. 

I listened intently as my Grandfather told the same story he does every year - of how he did not want to come to Haiti before the first time he came and of the plot he had to take students to Costa Rica after he got the Haiti trip out of the way. He would tell you today that he couldn't imagine not going back, and I feel the same each and every time I go. This time he added a twist to it by telling of how he once went to Guinea and intended to go back but never did. "I planned to go back, and I never did.. but that's okay because we'll all be reunited in Heaven one day," he said. And he's right. I think of the song we sang a few moments earlier.

When we all get to Heaven
What a day of rejoicing that will be
When we all see Jesus
We'll sing and shout the victory

I can't get over what a beautiful thought that is. Worshiping our Lord on earth, with other believers in another country is wonderful as it is - but the fact that we all get to be together in His presence one day is simply something that I can't even fathom. I'm excited for that day.

---

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor;

he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives,

and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;

 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,

and the day of vengeance of our God;

to comfort all who mourn;

  to grant to those who mourn in Zion—

to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;

that they may be called oaks of righteousness,

the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.

- Isaiah 61:1-3

Hope for Haiti's Children

Jamie and David and I - thankful for our friendship!

the trek up the mountain to deliver bunk beds

finally done painting!

sweet Melinda 

Nassan, J, David and I grew close throughout the week.

As I was sitting in my hammock a couple weeks ago, I was reminded a lot of my adventure in Colorado this past summer. These thoughts made me miss not only dwelling in His creation with some of my closest friends but also being basically cut off from the world. It's always refreshing to be away from social media and the real world for awhile. I was pretty torn when we were done climbing Casco Peak.

But today, I'm starting to think that that trip wasn't about just being away from the problems and trials of real life for awhile, but perhaps it was to get away from real life for a bit to go back into the world with a fresh perspective. After all, should we really be surprised when the world acts like the world?

Being in the middle of nowhere taught me what it meant to dwell in His presence, and it was easy there because there weren't very many distractions. I guess I write all of this to say at what point did I forget it's possible to dwell in the presence of God when we're living every day life, too?

God is the only one who is able to see our soul for what is truly is. When we're with people, they see our body, our outward appearance, Only our closest friends really see our soul, and even then, they aren't able to see it as fully as God can. A few weeks ago I heard David Lawrence say that you are a soul and you merely have a body.

When we come before God, we are bare. He sees our hopes and our fears and our dreams. He sees our anger, our sorrow, our guilt, our joy. He sees us for who we really are - and while that can be scary, all I can think about is how comforting it is that God, who knows every part of us and created  us, loves us.

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know Him." 1 John 3:1

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? I, the Lord, search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds." Jeremiah 17: 9-10

choosing joy

Choose joy. Choose joy. Choose joy.

I think it when Carter gets up to pray and the tears well up as I prepare to break bread with my church family the last time as a youth group member. Eventually my pride crumbles along with my make up and I let the tears fall. This isn't the kind of looks like your eyes are watering cry but rather the type where you hope no one hears you gasp for air and you could really use a nap afterwards type of cry. The two other senior girls and my best friend are both crying as well. I look up after Carter says amen, and I manage a smile. "We are such pansies," I mumble. They grin.

I try to focus on what is hindering me from being bold for the Lord this week, but today my attention span is thin and I can't help but take notice of the family that I have grown to love here.

A year ago I entered this church building that was unfamiliar that held no value to me and now I leave it with a heavy heart because now this place is home. Not many people have this. I am thankful to be one that does.

These people have loved me and they have pushed me and they have laughed with me and they have cried with me and they have prayed with me. They have sought the Lord with me in our pursuit of His reward, and they have listened to my doubts and my problems and my fears.

Choose joy. Choose joy. Choose joy.

I think it again when I drive away after saying goodbye to almost everyone tonight. I gave long hugs and tried to joke around to cover tears and I waved as I walked out the door. I exhale.

Choose joy.

This time I say it out loud.

Life has a peculiar feel when you look back on it that it doesn't have when you're actually living it. It's as though the whole thing were designed to be understood in hindsight, as though you'll never know the meaning of your experiences until you've had enough of them to provide reference.

It makes sense looking back.

The summer before my freshman year, I went to Camp Tahkodah (which I can't say enough good things about by the way) with a lot of my friends that had been going since they were little. We rode horses and made a trash can milkshake and dug into what it meant to reach our peak in our faith. We even went on a hayride where the trailer came loose and we wrecked into a bunch of barbed wire which wasn't exactly the greatest situation, but it made for an interesting story later. Jen, my youth minister's wife now, was my cabin counselor, and Blake, my youth minister, was a counselor there as well.

I remember praying the night before my first night at University that God would give me some sense of belonging in Conway because it was a brand new place to me at the time. Annnnd boom. The next morning I walked into church and not only do I find out that my old counselor is the youth minister there but that the normal preacher is on a break and Blake is preaching. I sat on the back row teary eyed because God had answered my prayer so quickly, and for the first time in a long time I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.

Getting there wasn't exactly a joy ride.  You see Jesus wrecked my life, shattered it to pieces, and put it back together more beautifully.

Jen and I were in contact a few days after my first Sunday there, and it wasn't long before UCC felt like home. My family's original plan was to look around to see where we fit best, but my mom knew that I wasn't going to love it as much anywhere else.

God saw my need of a church family and He did something about it. He didn't just say He was for me or with me. He was actually present with me. And it was then that I realized that I needed there to be something bigger than me. I needed someone to put awe inside of me; I needed to come second to someone that has everything figured out.

If you know me well, you know that I like to have an agenda, a plan. I like to know what's next. And so when God doesn't make things clear immediately I get a little restless, a little irritated. Someone told me once when talking about this that the most mysterious qualities of God are often the most glorious qualities of God. In Proverbs 25:2 I read that it's to the glory of God to conceal a matter. His majesty rests in the unknown. I am simply called to follow him day by day.

To be blunt, college kind of terrifies me. I don't know where my life is headed. I have a general idea, but I also thought that too when I was in second grade and told my mom I wanted to work at the bowling alley. There's so many parts of my life I want to hold onto desperately.

I'm going to miss driving all over the world with Kirsten while jamming out to her "ghetto jams" and making fools of ourselves car dancing. I'm going to miss Blake telling each one of us that he loves us every Sunday during communion. I'm going to miss the mission trips and the retreats and the nights where we would just hang out together and do nothing. I'll miss bantering with Camdyn about theories behind what the Wizard of Oz really means and putting up with his terrible music choices. I'll miss taking pictures and growing together and bringing up inside jokes. I'll miss going to Ava and Carter's house to watch Netflix and just to chill out and have fun. I'll miss fangirling over Ben Rector with Jen. I'll miss looking forward to seeing everyone at church. I'll miss everyone. I'll miss it all.

But today, I will choose joy. I choose to be thankful for the time I have had here to grow and to learn and to experience what it is to be one. I choose to dwell on the fact that God has given me a group of irreplaceable friends here that have blessed me abundantly in multiple ways. I choose to acknowledge the fact that God is good and that His timing is perfect. I choose to reminisce on the times I have had here in Conway.

I won't hide the fact that today it also hurts, but I will love these memories. I already do.

trek 2015

Last week I had the opportunity to travel fourteen hours to Salida, Colorado to make a summit attempt on Casco Peak,which is nearly 14,000 feet tall.

And it was hard.

Perhaps a better way to phrase that is it was physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually demanding the entire time. Although this was to be expected considering the fact that we were carrying 40 lb packs for hours primarily uphill with breaks that were few and far between, my allergic reaction was not so, well, expected. My legs were covered in hives that caused an intense burning sensation for the majority of the hike up to high camp, which is the typically the most difficult day as far as hiking goes.

A couple of days later, a friend said he believed that God works more quickly and powerfully than usual in the circumstances that we were in. Fortunately, I was able to witness this when our guides, Caleb & Keleigh, prayed over my legs and the hives were gone by the time we arrived at high camp. Hallelujah.

It was fun.

Between dozens of games of mafia and singing songs such as Don't Stop Believin' and Livin' on a Prayer on the way down the mountain, the group we were paired with from Nashville and the group I was a part of became close knit quickly. We laughed around the fire at night at our feeble attempt to make a cookie and we laughed some more when we were woken up by Caleb's singing. By the end of the week, an outsider would never know who was in what group.

It was humbling.

You would think everyone would just carry their own pack, right? Eh, wrong. There was stuff being passed around in shifts periodically, and at first, it was surprisingly hard for people to admit that they needed help. In reality, during this trip, vulnerability was almost forced because we needed each other in order to go on. Someone needed encouragement. Someone needed help with their pack. Someone needed to be pushed.

I think this is a powerful example of the church being one body because where some struggled, the others would help them in order to move along, and then vice versa. Where some were weak, some were strong, and where some were strong, some were weak. Ultimately, it takes all of us in order to reach our peak.

It was rewarding.

People, let me tell you, there are NO words as sweet as "This is high camp!" It took us eight hours to get to high camp, and it was painful and hard and painful and long and painful. But there was no better feeling than relaxing around the fire that night, knowing that we had made it that far together and knowing that we were that much closer to our summit attempt. Also, the farther up we hiked, the more beautiful it was. We could see for forever - mountains, trees, rocks, snow in some parts. It was postcard pretty. That view of His creation made everything so beyond worth the hours it took to get there. I feel as if all of this beauty exists so you and I can see His glory, His artwork. It's like an invitation to worship Him, to know Him.

Most of all, it was spiritually uplifting.

Before it was actually spiritually uplifting, it was difficult because we were challenged to tell of our struggles and hardships and fears and the like. At the end of every day, we would all sit around the fire together and sing a few songs and then we would each tell something that was challenging or encouraging during the day or the ways in which we saw God that day. During the first night of devo, we were told to not say the first thing that came to our mind but rather to dig deeper into the second and third thoughts that would creep in. At one point, we were told to say what we felt like we shouldn't say. After some awkwardness the first night, these conversations were full of people being totally open and honest, and that was an incredible thing to see.

There was talk of divorce, low self-esteem, trust issues, abuse, doubt, fear of the future, and on and on. What was so encouraging about it all, is that every time someone confessed their doubt or their fear or their struggle, someone else spoke up and said me too.

Me too. I heard David Skidmore say at Impact this year that perhaps these two words are the most powerful words in the English language because they give us the ability to relate to someone else.

These two words make us able to not feel so alone because it makes us realize there is in fact a way to come out stronger than before.

And so each time we talked about our failures or struggles, the more we realized that the penalty of our wrongdoing is not determined by the measure of it. We could overcome in many different ways, and it was a simple truth that came to life for some that we could overcome at all. We talked and we prayed and we prayed some more. We laid it all out for everyone to see. 

Wounds have the potential to turn into infections unless we allow them to turn into scars.

Paul writes to the Philippians while he's in prison: 

"Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. And because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters have become confident in the Lord and dare all the more to proclaim the gospel without fear." 

We all have our chains in a sense. We all have something that could have the potential to hold us back, to hinder us in our faith if we let it. 

The beauty of trial is that it gives us the ability to relate to one another and through that we are able to spread his love. And when we show the extravagant love of God, we have a sense of belonging.

I understand that every struggle is unique, and I believe that God gives each of us what we need for our unique walks. I also know that there are similarities in trials that allow us to help people.

I left trek wondering how different life would be if we were open about our struggles in life to people as much as we were there. I think that honesty is something people would be drawn to.

After all, we are called to be light. People are looking for light. It cancels fear. It comforts. It illuminates. It sustains life. It makes things possible. 

All in all, this experience taught me that I think to be in a relationship with God is to be loved purely and furiously. And a person who thinks himself unlovable cannot be in a relationship with God because he can't accept who God is; a Being that is love. We learn that we are lovable or unlovable from other people. Maybe that's why God tells us to love each other so frequently. 

What we really need is somebody who loves us so much we don’t worry about death, or about anything for that matter. We need this; we need this so we can love other people purely and not for selfish gain, we need this so we can see everybody as equals, we need this so our relationships can be sincere, we need this so we can stop kicking ourselves around, we need this so we can lose all self-awareness and find ourselves for the first time, not by realizing some dream, but by being told who we are by the only Being who has the authority to know, by that I mean the Creator.

And so every day we have a choice. We can stay nestled in our safe comfortable places. We can let the fear of something really small compared to the greatness of God cripple us. Or we can take a risk, do something to help someone else, make a person smile, change someone's world. Life to to fullest exists. It's available. All we have to do is decide to get up and embrace it. 

I don't always want to help other people. Generally speaking, I do. But there are certain days, when I, like everyone else in the world, simply want to do what I want to do. It's part of being human. But so often, when we stop to be kind when we don't really want to, that's when the sacrifice becomes most rewarding.

And because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters have become confident in the Lord and dare all the more to proclaim the gospel without fear.

Paul goes on to write: 

"...for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."

What good will come from your chains?

Remember that there is nothing in our stories that He cannot make beautiful. There's nothing lacking in our Father. He never comes up empty or short.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you. 2 Corinthians 4:7-12