In God’s beautifully-upside-down Kingdom he uses our weakness to display his strength. He takes what was once hidden in darkness and uses it to reflect his radiant light of hope to the world.

I’m “going grey,” letting my silver hair pop in at will. I used to dye the roots and add highlights, which was fun, but I felt led to make a change. As I’ve been walking through this natural hair journey, I’ve heard the phrase “trust the process.” What does that actually mean?

The truth is that every season is a gift—even the really hard ones that we would never include on our wish-list. They’re gifts because God uses them for our sanctification—to make us more and more like his Son. They’re gifts because they make us more dependent on him.

The very thing Jesus had rescued them from is what they ran back to in their attempts to keep walking with him. The ancient lie that God was holding out on them was recirculating again.

I’m at the podium trying to use my baton of self-effort to direct these noises.

They should chime for me. Beat drums and clang symbols, trill flutes and weep cello!

Force your notes to sing to the world my ability, my lovability.

When making new friends we may never outgrow the sensation of being the new kid at school, walking up to a table full of laughing faces, our tray – laden with past hurts and future hopes – heavy in our hands, praying someone invites us to sit down. But as we age, by God’s grace, we know we don’t make those scary first steps alone. Jesus is standing beside us, reminding us that we are already seated with him in the heavenly places…

When I overvalue performance, I’m believing that accomplishments are what make me good. This works-based righteousness distorts how I see God, other people, and myself. I wrongly see God as distant and waiting for me to prove my worth. I begin to see others either as competition or as a means to an end. I see myself as a collection of “wins” and “losses,” shouldering the entire weight of responsibility to ensure the former category outweighs the latter.

As God does with any of life’s trials, he used this season of illness and quarantine to illuminate my need for dependence on him and grow my faith. At times heart-change can feel almost as unpleasant as the COVID nose swab . . . almost. But in both cases the discomfort is necessary for greater understanding and, Lord willing, appropriate intervention.

When the world screams “Take. Hoard. Keep.”

the Creator who knows what we need says,

“Give.”

Give thanks.

I made cold brew and thought of you.

Then thought of the cold that crept into my heart on the drive last night, as tears and yells took over where silent hand-holding usually rides.

But in between the peaks and the valleys lies the most beautiful part of the journey - the everyday moments sustained by God’s faithfulness. The path paved with countless tiny joys.

She wishes she could push past the gut-piercing waves of loss, to stretch into a new atmosphere where he isn’t gone. She knows that no matter how well she protects and cares for her plants, she cannot make them grow. Life and growth remain mysteries beyond her control, a truth which vacillates between comforting and infuriating. She can’t make her plants grow. She can’t make her heart heal.

I realized that buying a particular pair of low-rise jeans wasn’t going to give me the life shown in those oversized stills, but I also still believed that wearing that logo would make me more likeable. And I wanted to fit in.

My self-perceived wisdom is a cracked crutch which I think can bear the weight of my future, but it will inevitable let me down, hard.