A Series on Struggles: Holding on and Letting Go

I have a really hard time letting go of my past. I don't know why I can't just move on from things. They stick in my brain like boots stuck in thick, goopy mud. I could get the boots out if I pulled really hard, but then I'd have to carry them far, far away from the mud to sit them down. Every now and again, I succeed in pulling the boots out and feel victorious, but I never carry them far enough from the mud, and they always sink back down into the sticky abyss.

I've mentioned in a previous blog how I sometimes make up facts and then choose to believe them, or I let my imagination go a little crazy, and the stories that I invent become reality for a few moments. This also applies to "my past." I like to think I remember things accurately, but more often than not, I'll remember an event, and then remember the emotional reaction I had to that event, which is always coupled with the "story" I add to the event (of what could have happened to cause the event, of what I don't know that really happened, etc.). Because of this, past events are generally more potent than they should be in my brain. This causes the mud to be stickier. Goopier. Harder to break away from.

I've struggled with this my entire life (or at least as long as I can remember). Generally, the struggles revolve around whatever is most important to me. I constantly worry that whatever it is that I love (my husband, my family, my friends, my pup, my writing, my knitting, etc.) will somehow reject me. Now, I know that writing and knitting, things I have control over, can't reject me, but I can really, really suck at doing them, which in my brain is a form of rejection. I'm always second-guessing the love of others toward me. Because of that, I'm always second-guessing their intentions, their words, their actions. I want to hold on to the things I love SO tightly, because I'm scared they'll vanish.

So, I hold on to things I love and the things that cause me pain (past things, silly things, imaginary things, misunderstood things), yet, I need to let go of those things that cause me pain, and I need to, if not let go of, loosen my hold a bit on the things I love. You know that old saying: "If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were." (Richard Bach)

I need to learn to trust that the people I love, who love me back, aren't going to fly away if I let them go. I need to trust that I don't have to be perfect, that I don't have to apologize for every imagined slight, that I don't have to try so hard to make them love, because they already do.

By that same token, I need to learn to let go of things that don't need to be held on to. I need to rip my proverbial boots out of the mud and take them far, far, far away. Then I need to wash them, dry them, and wear them only on solid ground.

I think it's important to remember your past. I think it's important to know your limitations and the things that set you off, but it's just as important not to let those things have power over you. I want to be able to look at the things that make me feel bad, make me feel powerless, make me feel like I won't ever amount to anything, and walk away, because I want to know that those things aren't truths.

Tomorrow begins a new year. I want to begin that year walking away from the mud. I want to walk beside the people and things I love, and trust that, just because I'm not holding on to them as tightly as I can, when I turn to look, they'll all still be there.

A Gentle Tongue is a Tree of Life

The older I get, the more I realize how little I really know about how things are supposed to work. Each year, I look back and see all the things I knew and how that knowledge was shattered and replaced with something that I was sure was false.

Recently, God has been working on my heart in a serious way. In recent months, He's pushed me in ways that, left to my own devices, I would have run the opposite direction from. Every day, with little things--a comment from a friend, a conversation with a stranger, reconnecting with someone in a small way--He is showing me how He wants me to live my life.

I used to think that God wanted me to be a big writer that wrote powerful, inspiring blogs, and someday books, for His glory. I thought, "This is why He's given me this passion to write. So that I can really do something with it." What I didn't realize at the time was, by thinking that, I was really only wanting to glorify myself. I want to publish a book or two and I want my name to be known, but now I think that that kind of stuff doesn't matter so much to God. Maybe He gave me this love of writing as a gift just for me...as a way to glorify him by creating stories and transferring ideas and drawing pictures with words, even if I'm the only one who ever reads it. Maybe He gave me the passion to write, simply because He knew I would like it.

I don't think God wants me to live to be a writer. I don't think He wants me to live in a certain city, or a certain type of house, or have a certain amount of money. But I do think he wants me to live my life, my whole entire life, intentionally loving people.

I've blogged a few times about what I think love is. I don't think it's an emotion we feel, but rather, how we treat people. We can not like someone and still love them...but we have to intentionally show that person our love, despite our feelings.

There have been two things that have happened lately that really made me think about this.

First...I'm a very emotional person. I'm also a person that lets my imagination run wild. Because of this, I often let an emotional cue in my life grow from a feeling, into a fictional tale that corresponds with said feeling, before it settles as some sort of twisted reality in my brain. 9.9 times out of 10, there is zero truth in this false reality that I've created. I know this, and yet, I let it live in me.

Recently, I've reconnected with an old friend. I won't go into the details of what happened, when, and why, but I will say that over time, having no contact with this person, I had created a false reality in my head that told me that this person would forever hate me. I believed this so much that I would get angry just thinking about it...but this was anything but true.

God often has a way of making us turn and face these falsehoods in our lives. I'm so thankful that, despite how uncomfortable I felt at first, and despite how scared I was, He pushed me so hard that I couldn't help but turn and face this fiction that I'd created and see through it to the true story that lay beneath it.

When I went to this person, fighting back this crazy, irrational thought that they hated me, I was met with warmth, gratitude, and peace. My fiction was anything but even close to truth.

I know, without a doubt in my heart, that God was the one who brought me to this place with this person. It's like He's holding my shoulders, facing me toward this situation, and saying, "See? Do you see what I have for you? Do you see what I have for all of you? I want you all to go out and love each other, no matter what. That's all."

I didn't want to go to this person. I didn't want to love this person, because I was sure I would be met with rejection and pain. But God kept pushing me. GO. And when I did, look at the gifts He had waiting. Peace, healing, and love.

The second thing isn't quite as pleasant, but it's just as important.

Anyone who knows me know that my husband is the most important person in my life. I would do anything for him. He's my best friend in the whole world. Together, he and I have been through a lot. Because of this, you might think that loving him would be as easy as breathing...and it is, unless we're having an argument.

When I say "loving him," I mean actively showing him that I love him. In an argument, if you feel mad, or sad, or hurt, it's hard to reach out and show someone else love. It takes a really strong person to do that...And even though Vince is the most important person in my life, it's often really difficult for me in an argument to tone down my anger, or my hurt, or my sadness, long enough to stop and think, "How can I show him love? Because in this argument, he's hurting to." More often than not, I think, "Why is he hurting me this way? Why can't he comfort me?"

It's always hardest to love someone else when all you can do is look at yourself. And when I'm hurt, or sad, or angry, or irritated, or anything but happy, my eyes immediately go inward. Me. Me. Me.

Near the end of most fights, Vince walks over (and I know he's still upset, because we haven't come to a conclusion yet), and puts his arms around me, and holds me. He lays down his negative emotions in order to show me that he still loves me. I'd like to say I instantly become repentant and show him love right back...but I don't always. Sometimes I stand there, stiff, unwilling to show him that I love him too, knowing it hurts him, but unwilling to lay down my selfishness to take that pain away.

Why is it that I'm so willing to reach out in love to someone I'm not very close to, yet so unwilling to lay down myself for the person I care for more than anyone on this planet? Perhaps it's because I know, at the end of the day, Vince is going to love me and I'm going to love him. But that doesn't make it OK for me to take time outs from my desire, my duty, my privilege to love him.

We're all going to get angry. We're all going to get our feelings hurt. We're all going to lash out in anger. What God is teaching me isn't that we aren't allowed to feel these ways, but rather, to be aware of the way our words and our actions affect others.

I want to be able to hold back the words that my emotions tells me to say when I know that they'll hurt someone. Even if I just have to bite my tongue until my emotional state calms enough to say something I won't regret. I want to be able to do what Vince does, and push aside what my negative emotions tell me to do, and instead reach out in love. I want to be able to reach out to a stranger and show them love just as easily as I reach out to my husband in an argument, because even if I know at the end of the day that he's going to love me forever, I want him to be shown my love, no matter what.

"A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseneess in it breaks the spirit." 

Proverbs 15:4

Emotional Epiphany

I often let my emotions dictate my actions and words. Excitement, joy, sadness, anger, contentment, whatever it is, I let what I'm feeling decide how I'm going to interact with the world. (Anyone who follows me on Twitter can follow my moods based on the kinds of things I post. My apologies.)

My husband tells me that being a person that is intensely in tune with my emotions is a good thing. Some days I agree--others, I beg to differ.

My whole life, I've thought that there was something wrong with me because of the intensity with which I felt things. I thought there was something broken in my brain--some synapse that fired incorrectly--that caused me to feel so much so often. Whether it was feeling like I was going to die, because a boy broke up with me, or feeling like nothing could ever be wrong again, because my cat had kittens and I was as happy as anyone could be--I felt too much to be a rational, sane human being. Often, these emotions only lasted short periods of time. If a boy broke up with, I was sure my heart would stop beating...and then a few days later, that seemed ridiculous. It was, after all, just a boy, and really, I didn't like him that much. If the kittens overflowed my heart with joy, I was sure nothing could be better. But then, someone I knew would get married, or have a baby, and suddenly that was the pinnacle of joy.

There's no apparent rhyme or reason to my emotional state a lot of the time. It goes up and down with force. As I said, I believed my brain didn't work like a human brain should.

Last night, my husband and I talked about all this. He told me that my ability to feel things so acutely was one of the things that drew him to me initially. (I countered with the fact that my emotional reactions often cause arguments, but I want to focus on the positive words he spoke into my life right now.) When he told me that, for the first time ever, I started to think that maybe I'm not defective...maybe the way that I feel doesn't make me crazy...maybe it's a gift, and maybe there's a purpose for it.

I've always believed that God creates each of us with individual talents, interests, and passions. I've always believed that each person I meet is unique and beautiful. But I've never applied those thoughts to me. Though I believed wholeheartedly that everyone was unique, special, and beautiful, subconsciously I've always thought, Except me. I'm not those things. I'm broken. Maybe I'm crazy, too. Then I'm blessed with this amazing man in my life who says, This thing that you see a defect is something beautiful to me. I love this thing and I love you for, and in spite of, it. 

It shook me.

Perhaps God made me the way I did so that I could experience his full range of beautiful, heart-shattering emotions, and in so doing, be able to empathize with others when they experience these things. Perhaps I this thing that I've seen as a downfall, a major flaw, has always been a blessing that bloomed very slowly. Perhaps this stockpile of emotional baggage that I've added to and carried my whole life is there so that I can draw from it and in some small way, help someone else deal with their emotional stuff.

I don't think I'm the only person who feels things intensely.

I don't think I feel more than everyone else.

I don't think that without me the people who talk to me couldn't get by.

But, I do know that I feel things, in the core of me, when the people I care about feel them.

I do know that when I feel something, I feel it as a real, tangible, physical thing.

And I know that, if I let God work in me, that He can use this as a tool for His glory, 

as a way for Him to love.

My God made me an emotional, empathetic woman, and He made my husband and logical, loving man. My husband's logic helped me to see that the way I am isn't wrong. I can't let my emotions control me, but I can be thankful for the ability to feel things so deeply, and hopefully to be able to use those emotions and the knowledge that comes with them to help someone else. 

I'm thankful for the ability to feel, even when it's hard. I'm thankful that I have such a kind, loving, rational husband, who helps me by encouraging me and not coddling me (despite what my emotion-driven-self demands of him). And I'm so very thankful for a God who loves me enough to make me who I am, and who loves you enough to make you who you are.

We're All Hungry for Something

If you read my last blog post, you know that lately, things for me haven't been great (emotionally). I've had a lot of down moments and down days, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was that was causing it. I should have been able to figure it out, but I'm stubborn. Often, I keep my eyes closed tight when I know I should open them wide, because I know that when I open them it might sting.

Tonight, Vince and I went to Lexington to attend 608--the church service held at Southland Christian Church for college-ish age people. The pastor, Jon Weece, talked about running from things and running to things. He then told us the story of a woman who was abused as a child, and ended up turning her life toward things that were harmful to her and to others--sex, drugs, alcohol, and self-injury. The story ended when after this woman had run from her past for years--from all that hurt she endured as a child and then allowed herself to endure as an adult--until she ran to someone that opened up their heart to her and loved her. This woman wasn't judged for the way she'd lived her life. The word sin was never used. Rather, this woman was described as someone who had been hurt, who was hurting herself and others, and who, in the end, was loved simply because she needed to be loved. That love healed her brokenness.

I'm not doing this story justice. We got to hear the woman, via video, tell her story from beginning to end, and it broke my heart. She talked about her drug and alcoholism, her prostitution and career in the porn industry, and about her broken childhood with a mother who introduced her to many of these things. This was a woman who was broken in so many ways, and who in the end was healed by the love and grace of Jesus. This story is miraculous. It's miraculous because Jesus' love, through people, helped this woman heal, but it's also miraculous, because, despite what I've seen from people for so, so long, the people in this story never made this woman seem like she was less. 

I've been to many different churches, and I've talked to people with varied beliefs--Atheists, Agnostics, Buddhists, Baptists, Catholics, Jehovahs Witnesses, Methodists, Mormons, Muslims, Wiccans, you name. These different groups of people have vastly different views of God, religion, and the world, yet there's one common thing that ties most, if not all, of them together. The idea that what they believe is right.

What stood out as different to me about this particular service, about this particular story, was that I never got the impression that the people of this church thought of this woman as any less than them. I never got the impression that they saw themselves as being better than her. They weren't going out and loving her because she was lost--they went and loved her, because she needed to be loved. No questions asked. No holds barred. They just loved.

Pastor Weece told another story about a young boy, a second grader I thing, that was a pretty violent kid. Once, he took a swing at a teacher, and Jon had to pull him away. The boy bit him, and when Jon got his hand free, he pulled the boy into a gentle bear hug and took him to see the principal, holding him the whole time. As they walked, the boy fought against Jon, still full of anger. When Jon got him to the principal's office, she saw him, went back outside, and brought the boy a peach. He ate as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Why did he act so violently? So angrily? Because he was hungry.

We're all hungry for something. The woman I talked about before, she was hungry--desperately hungry--for love, for a sense that she was important, that she belonged. The child was hungry for food, so hungry that all he could do was be angry. I'm hungry for things, things that I may not even realize I'm hungry for. I know that you're hungry for things too.

As I said in the beginning of this, emotionally, things have been rough for me lately. I've lashed out at my husband, at my family, and at my friends. I wasn't happy. If I'd opened my eyes up, I would have been able to see that it was because of how hungry I was. I've been starving for Jesus, and I didn't recognize those hunger pains for what they were. I've been hungry for God to move in my life, and what I didn't see was that I was also hungry to go out and live my life for God, and to share the love that He so freely gives me.

I'm not trying to idolize Pastor Weece, or Southland, or the 608 service we went to, but I do want to say that tonight's message opened my eyes and my heart in a way that I haven't experienced in a long, long time. The message made me realize that a little bit of love, the smallest thing, can set in motion a chain of events that might change someone's life. And if it doesn't, that little bit of love can at least make a person happy for a moment. The message made me want to go out and love.

Vince and I talked about the service after we left. We felt refreshed, renewed, and excited to go out and live our lives, and our marriage, for God. The entire service was centered around not who was right, who was wrong, and how we (the "right" ones) can correct the thinking/beliefs of the "wrong" ones, it was centered around the need the world has for servants--for people who go out and love others no matter what. In the story about the little boy, the principal and Jon loved him and gave him food, not because he was angry, but because he was hungry. In the story of the woman, she was shown love by the people at Southland not so that she would believe what they would have her believe, but because she was hurting and needed to be loved.

My heart broke tonight in a way that it hasn't in a long time. My heart broke for myself when I realized that I'd gone for so long not living my life loving and worshipping Jesus by loving others. My heart broke in a beautiful way when I realized that there are people that are living that way right now. My heart broke in a refreshing, exciting way when I realized that there are churches out there right now that are going and doing the things that make life beautiful--they're out there spreading the love of God. There was no political agenda, or church agenda, no secret, hidden reason for why the people of this church are doing this--it just is what it is, and what it is is beautiful.

Jon challenged us to go out this week and do for one person what we wished we could do for the world. To go out and show one person love. What a beautiful opportunity, and what a beautiful way to live, to go and give someone love, and to do so not in order to change the way they think, or the way they act, or the way they are, but simply go and love because we all need to be loved.

31..."The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. 32 Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches." 

-Matthew 13:31-32

Salt of the Earth / Light of the World

On Wednesday, Dustin talked about The Beatitudes. I don't think he intended to, I think his aim was to share the verses that followed them. Regardless, he did share them, and hearing them spoke to something inside of me that yearns to be set free.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matt. 5:3-12)

Even as irregular as my church attendance has been over the course of my life, I'd heard these verses many, many times. When Dustin read them, and talked about them a little bit, I felt something in me--a set of preconceived notions that made it easy for me to live the way I've been living--start to crumble. 

I've called myself a follower of Christ since I was a child, since before I realized what it could possibly mean to follow in Christ's footsteps. At 27, I realize that I don't have it all figured out. I realize that I'll never have it all figured out. And I realize that, despite these two facts, I can still work hard toward living like Christ would have me live.

In each of the Beatitudes, the blessed are those people that are broken, or the people that seek out good. To me this says that the blessed are those that show awesome, crazy love; those that choose to love in exceptional ways by not retaliating, by showing mercy, by bringing peace; those that seek to improve the lives of others, rather than their own lives; those that are humble and selfless.

Dustin went on to talk about the following few verses (Matt. 5:13-16). These verses talk about how we are the salt of the earth. I've heard that for years, and never understood what it means, but Dustin's words shed some light it for me. A simplified version of what he said is, salt was a preservative. To be the salt of the earth is to preserve the earth. These verses also say that we are the light of the world. To be honest, I've always thought that we--people--were a little vain to think of ourselves as lights to the world, but I'd never before considered the fact that the light shining from within us isn't our own light, but God's light. That by living the life he calls us to live, and by living for Him, we're lights to the world. 

"Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven." (Matt. 5:16)

How does all this tie together? To be lights of the world we must do what we can to preserve the world, to love it, to tend to it and take care of it. God put us here, not because he hated this place ("For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son..." John 3:16), but rather because He loved it and He loved us. We're here to take care of it, to take care of each other. We're to tend to our gardens, our plots of land, our animals, and more importantly, our neighbors, our families, our friends, and our enemies. Blessed are the peacemakers...the pure in heart...the merciful...those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. 

It's easy to live your life for yourself. I do it every single day. It's much, much harder to live your life for something greater. To live your life in a way that may not yield instant gratification. In a way that may cause yourself some hardship. But our goal shouldn't be instant gratification. Our goal, my goal, should be doing what my heart tells me is right. To love despite conflict. To reach out and take those extra steps, those extra miles, that will show someone else--friend and foe--love. As always, I believe with my whole heart that Love is the key to everything.

Love Speaks Volumes

Generally I don't post blogs too close together, but I witnessed something today that slapped me across the face and screamed in my ear for me to write about it.

I was at Starbucks earlier (shocking, I know) and witnessed something that upset me a little. A woman's drink wasn't made to her standards, and rather than drink it anyway, or ask nicely for a new one, she insisted that the barista on bar add a shot, saying that if the barista were to remake it, she would just remake it wrong again.

It would be easy for me to sit here and write all about how wrong I think that woman was, but I won't. I can't say what's right or wrong for her, or for anyone other than myself. Instead, this event made me think about how I treat people myself.

While the woman waited for her drink to be "fixed," she looked at me and shook her head and rolled her eyes. I think she wanted me to commiserate with her, but instead I just stared straight ahead and avoided dealing with it. I was thinking, "It's just coffee.

No need to get so upset and maybe hurt someone's feelings." I was even a little upset with her for treating one of my friends with such a lack of respect. But rather than say any of that, I avoided.

I feel like, in general, we avoid things a lot. Maybe I should say I avoid things, instead of we, because I really don't want to be someone who generalizes everything in order to avoid blame or responsibility. I avoid things a lot. Especially things like that.

Perhaps I should have turned to the woman and told her off, but I don't think so. Perhaps my avoidance of her was worse than that. All I know is, I didn't handle the situation with love, and even in retrospect I'm not sure how I should have reacted.

As a follower of Jesus, I believe it's everyone's duty, whether you're a Christian or not, to love people. I don't want to tell someone they're wrong for not loving, but I do want to say that I want to love people. I want to love everyone I meet, and I want that to be clear. I want to do this because I think it's what life is really about.

However that woman acted, I should have shown her love. I showed my friend love by not talking to the woman about her drink in a negative way, but I didn't show the woman love. I ignored her, which is the same as telling her off I think.

Love speaks volumes. It heals us when nothing else can. It takes a rotten day and turns it on its head. It mends broken hearts and changes your perspective on things.

I wish that I had thought of that today for the brief moments I was in the same space as that woman. No, I wish that I didn't have to think about it, that to love her regardless of my emotions toward her in that moment was my first nature, rather than an action I decided to take. I want to love people. I think if we all loved each other, no matter what, then everything would be better.

I messed up today. But maybe because I messed up today, I won't the next time I'm given an opportunity to love someone. Whether it's in the line at the grocery store, or paying for gas, or talking to a friend, we have the opportunity to love on people every time we see them. I don't want to waste any more of those opportunities.

Love without Bias. Love with Wild Abandon.

Love.

I've blogged a lot about love. But as I grow, I learn more and more about what that word really means.

I think we throw the word around a lot, but I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. We say, "I love that car," or "I love this weather," and things of that nature. We tell our friends, our family, our significant others, even our pets, that we love them. I've heard some people say that throwing the word "love" around isn't something we should do, but wouldn't the world be a better place if we all threw love, actual love, around more?

Love isn't an emotion. Not really. It's a way of living. A choice. A gift. To love someone is probably the greatest gift we can give, but it's also something great we can do for ourselves. I know that when I love on someone, whether it's my best friend, my mom or dad or brother, or a complete stranger, I have this peace that washes over me. And while I don't claim to have all the answers, or even a small fraction of the answers, I think I have an idea of why that might be.

Let me try to break it down for my own sense of clarity. God is love. Jesus calls us to love. God loves on us. We should love on each other.

In Matthew 5 we are told to love our enemies as well as our neighbors. What a radical notion. Love your enemies. Love your neighbors. What I think Jesus is asking us to do here is just to love, without bias, with wild abandon.

"9 In this was manifested the love of God toward us: that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him. 10 Herein is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11 Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." (1 John 4:9-11)

I think we all (myself definitely included) should be kinder to people. Should be more understanding of people. Should have more conversations with people. And not just the people we already know. Talk to a stranger, ask them about their day. I wanna have the boldness to go out of my way to love on someone just because I can. There have been times when someone has shown me kindness, and they didn't even know me, and it made my day so much brighter.

Love is beautiful. Love is wonderful. Love is a real, powerful, vibrant force. I think we should all explore it a little more.

Man Shall Not Live on Bread Alone

⁴But He answered and said, "It is written: `Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.'" - Matthew 4:4

We need milk, meat, protein. We need something that will sustain us after the carbs wear off. Something substantial.

In our short lives, people will come and go. Things will come and go. Ideas will come and go. We can't live on only these things. They aren't bad. On the contrary, many of these things are beautiful. But, to LIVE we need more. We need the long lasting protein. We need something that will sustain us. We need God, because while people, things, and ideas are fleeting, God is permanent. He is constant. He is perfect.

Now, here's the tricky part... Sometimes, in the search for God, for that sustenance that will last, we find someone else. Sometimes that person will work, unwittingly, to pull you for your search, and sometimes that person will be on a search of their own. Those two paths may converge, and when that happens you have someone to travel with. Someone who will seek God with you. And this is beautiful. The tricky part comes when you begin looking for that person MORE than you are looking for God.

It seems odd to me how easily I fall into that very pattern. On the one hand, I am aware of how much easier it is to go to, and rely on, someone who is tangibly there. It's comforting to be able to talk and have audible words spoken back. To reach out and grab onto someone and to feel them beneath your fingers. But I'm also aware that, no matter how wonderful that person is, if you're only looking to that person, if your eyes turn from God, then that glue that is holding you together will begin to crumble.

On the flip-side, God is ever faithful. Ever loving. Ever forgiving. He will never crumble or fall away. He is, in every sense of the word, perfect. And yet, despite the fact that He will NEVER fail us--despite the fact that He will ALWAYS love us--we don't always turn to Him first. More often than not, I turn away from that perfect, true, love when something more fast acting, something more immediately and sensorily available, is offered. Because God isn't tangible, and people are. Things are. We can feel him in our hearts. We can see him affecting our lives, and our world. We can even hear him, if we listen, in the words of the people around us. But we can't touch Him. We can't reach out with our hands, grab onto God, and feel Him hold us back.

That being said, God is beginning to teach me about this. If we make the conscious choice to turn to Him first, to rely on Him fully, to trust in Him, then suddenly life is that much better. When I give God the things I normally reserve for a person, something inside me shifts. It clicks and falls into place. It's a subtle thing. A small thing. Nothing huge and dramatic. Nothing that elicits that craved instantly gratifying feeling of "better." But it is infinitely more gratifying in the long run.

It's something that begins small, like a seed planted that grows slowly and steadily. It is a foundation that is laid carefully so that it will stand the test of time. It will be sturdy and strong. It will sustain. The other, the instant gratification, no matter how beautiful and good it is, will eventually disappear without a firm foundation beneath it. But this growing thing, this seed that God can plant, IS strong. Its roots go deep, and as long as you keep watering it, it will sustain you. It is much more substantial than bread.

Now, the coolest part about ALL of this, is that you don't have to just choose one or the other. Man shall not live on bread ALONE. What you do have to choose is where your priorities lie. You have to choose which of these is the most important to you. And while I can't know anyone's life but my own, I can say that if you put God first, if you keep your eyes trained on him, through the wonderful times, and the horrible ones, then things will be okay. Let Him fill you up, let Him sustain you, and experience how beautiful His love is, and everything else will fall into place.