A or B

Do I want to please people, or do I want to glorify God?

I'm realizing it's an important question to ask myself. And that what accomplishes one usually has the opposite effect on the other. Perhaps sometimes you might be able to swing both. But I think more often than not, the two are mutually exclusive. Causing us  to really ask ourselves...do I want to please people, or do I want to glorify God?

And not just before making small day to day choices. But before the big decisions. And most importantly, as a lifestyle.

What if you have to choose? What if you've hit a fork in the road and you realize you can no longer hop back and forth between both sides? That you can't just continue straddling the dividing line anymore. One foot over here. One over there. What if you've reached the point in life where the only remaining option is to fully commit to one or the other? Before they were similar enough that you could pull off the facade of doing both. But now they've gotten more seriously selective. Diverging from each other. Becoming two distinct worlds. Leaving you with the option of A or B. Nothing in between. No combo meal. No best of both worlds. No half-assing two different lifestyles.

A or B.

Pleasing people or glorifying God.

Totally distinct. Opposite directions. Different realities of who you will be, what you will do, and what type of life you will live. All you can do...the only option you have left...is to choose.

A or B.

It seems easy enough, right? Of course glorifying God is more important than pleasing people. You're certain of it. Your heart, mind and spirit know it.

And yet the stakes of choosing to do so are just so high. So terrifyingly high.

Especially if you are a people pleaser. If you've been wearing that mask for years, making your life decisions on the sole basis of how it will affect those around you. How happy they'll be. How well they'll like and approve of you. To the extent that you can't even tell where the mask ends and your face begins. What parts of you are fake, and what parts of you are actually flesh. You've been doing it so long that it looks like the real you. Feels like the real you. Are you people pleasing, or does what you genuinely desire just so happen to please others?

If that's the case, you probably can't even trust your own judgement, at least not in your current state. Not until you take some time to separate yourself from those people. Perhaps all people. To really search your heart for the true self.

It's scary to admit, but if you are to be totally honest with yourself (to the best of your current ability), that's the only way to know who you really are, what you really want, and what of the choices in front of you will glorify God rather than please people. Those things just get too clouded by the people and their demands, desires, opinions and praises.

And when you've been living under that cloud for long enough, it simply looks like the sky. You can't even realize its polluted state. To you, it's pure sky.

You need silence...to be away from the noise.

You need stillness...to stop the running.

You need emptiness...to step away from the striving.

You may even need to escape entirely. You must if the noise, the running, and the striving are too tempting in your current environment.

You need a place conducive to silence, stillness and emptiness. Soul searching, prayer and meditation. True-self discovery and divine encounter. You're never unreachable for God. But you may be too stuck in the noise, caught up in the running and obsessed with the striving to hear Him. He'll never stop trying, but it's on us to get the clutter out of our lives so that we can notice Him.

Maybe you can't decipher A from B. Maybe you're confused entirely, because as soon as you start to peel off a corner of that mask, you feel vulnerable and let it mold back on. Or  maybe you're just so deep in people pleasing that you don't even notice a mask. Because when you look in the mirror, all you see is yourself. And maybe you already know which path pleases people and which glorifies God.

But even if you've distinguished A from B, if you're a people pleaser, it won't be easy to choose the latter.

Because it's hard to seek God's face and will when you can't even identify your own.

Footholds

The mountains are painted with your majesty. Will you paint my words with your majesty, too?

I know not what my full purpose is on this earth. Or rather, my full destiny, since my full purpose is nothing more and nothing less than to bring You glory and advance the Kingdom. But as for my destiny, I feel like You've revealed bits and pieces. Just not enough detail to glue them together, as is Your nature.

Regardless, I'm grateful for those pieces. Because small as they may be, they are the only footholds I've found that fit my large, clumsy feet on this mountain I'm trying desperately to climb with my hands wide open.

I'm thankful for the comfort and security they provide me when I feel lost or unsteadied. The excitement and energy they give me by making the top of this mountain seem more reachable.

Each time I encounter a new foothold I'm encouraged and inspired to continue my journey as was planned out for me.

And in the in-between..I worry where to continue, what direction to go, if I'm climbing well, if I'll ever reach the top, and what lowly me is even doing climbing such a majestic mountain in the first place.

But then, just as I'm stuck down in the middleness between them, You shine Your light on yet another foothold You created just for me. Another perfect fit. And I'm overcome once again with security, energy, and inspiration. I'm ready to keep climbing in the direction this new foothold leads.

I believe I may be between footholds. Having reentered that all too familiar territory of the in-between. But because of the past footholds, there are certain aspects of my journey I can hold onto with confidence. Each foothold You've blessed me with has redirected my path, sometimes ever so slightly, and other times in what seems like a 180. But always guiding me toward my destiny.

These footholds are the only truth I know aside from You. So I will hold onto them and keep climbing where you lead. Praying always for just one more foothold.

Morning Glory

Some mornings I wonder how I ever could have doubted the existence of God.

I am utterly amazed at the natural beauty surrounding me as I sit here on my balcony and center, as has become my Monday morning ritual.

Before even sitting down the birds begin to serenade me. Coming from all directions, in different pitches and tunes, they sing their morning song. Welcoming the new day. Welcoming me, as I come into my resting place, a small balcony overlooking their home in the trees. All their noises uniting into one perfect melody. Their rhythm enters my soul. Bringing an indescribable peace.

I look up and see them dancing to their tune in the trees. Hopping from branch to branch. Moving about with grace and ease. Do they even know the magic of the song they create? Perhaps they chirp with pride. But no, I think they chirp from a humble place of joy and thanksgiving. For a new day is here. And they sing and dance together, welcoming the sunrise in all of its glory, offering shouts of praise to their Creator.

And the sunrise...at first only the slightest bit of pink and orange glowing softly in the horizon. Gray clouds and a dark blue sky gracefully painted over with watercolor shades of warmth. Igniting the sky. Reflecting off the once gray, now purple and pink cotton candy clouds. The bare branches of the trees surrounding my balcony hang over the sunrise. Shading the brightness. Blocking its full brilliance. As if to say it is too powerful to see in full view. Or that I am simply not worthy of its majesty.

The pinks fade into orange. And just above the black treetops in the distance, its source is revealed. At first only a glimpse of yellow. Then a half-circle emerges. Turning the surrounding sky a glimmering yellow. Finally the sun arrives in full view. A complete circle. Golden in hue. Shinning so brightly one cannot look directly on for more than a moment's time. Again, a sign of its pure beauty and immense value. After all, it is the sun. Which calls forth the day, wakes us up, and tells the story of its creator. Majestic. Powerful. Brilliant. Breathtakingly beautiful. Worthy of all praise.

In the daylight, I now see the trees more clearly. Bare except for a few crunchy brown stragglers, brave enough to hold on tight for winter. The branches amaze me. Ever multiplying in different directions as your eyes move from trunk to the sky. Intertangled. Different shapes and sizes. Stronger closer to the source and thin and fragile as they move away from their source. But holding each other up, the stronger branches with more access to the roots are supporting the weaker ones with fewer resources.

I can't help but think how like a tree this world is. How like branches we are. Different shapes and sizes. But all connected. All woven together. All part of the same tree. Coming from the same source, God. Sustained by that same source who first created and us now nourishes and holds us up. And as we stray farther from Him, like the thin, fragile branches, we become weak. But as we move into Him and come into intimacy with Him, we gain His strength. We can stand firm, like the trunk. No longer needing to worry about swaying in the wind. Or falling in the rain. Or being broken by a storm.

And we are all connected by our Creator. We are all responsible for one another. For our health, well being and survival. Like the thicker branches hold and steady the thinner ones, we must support the weak. Give rest to the tired. Share resources with the poor. As all of our strength and stability comes not from us, but from The Source. It is our obligation to give it back out. For we could have been that small, weary branch carrying the weight of the world on its tiny back. But by God's grace alone, we were created with thicker bark and must hold up our fellow branches.

I look at the natural beauty surrounding me this morning, and I wonder how I ever doubted the existence of God. Or how I could still doubt His goodness. His reign. Or His plans.

I look out over my balcony, and I hear God whisper into the trees just over the birds' morning song,

"This is who I am. This is always who I am.

Good. Beautiful. Brilliant. Majestic. And in control.

How many sightings of morning glory will it take before you believe the Truth being spoken about me in your own backyard?

I am good. I am and always will be good. I am beautiful beyond what you can see. Brilliant beyond what you could possibly comprehend. Majestic beyond anything on this earth. And in complete and constant control.

I am God. And I am good."

What if we asked?

What if we actually asked God for what we wanted and needed?

Not just to heal our sick friends and comfort our lonely relatives. to be with us and guide us. For His presence, love, protection, and voice. For justice and peace on this earth. These are great things to pray for. I pray for them often. You probably do, too. These are obviously things we want and need. Genuinely. And things God wants to give us, I believe.

But what if we asked God for what we really want? For what we desperately need?

John 16:24: "Until now you have not asked me for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete."

I read this verse and it really struck me. In context, Jesus is preparing His disciples for His death. His returning to them and leaving them. Explaining that the Father God will give them whatever they ask for in His name. Jesus won't be there to ask God on their behalf, but God loves them and will answer as they ask in His name.

Ask and you will receive. What a simple concept. Ask...receive. Ask...receive. Ask...receive.

So why don't we ask? Why don't I ask?

"Until now you have not asked me for anything in my name."

Well obviously the disciples had no need to do so. They could turn to Jesus, look him in the eye, and ask him directly. But I read those words as if they were coming straight from Jesus standing right in front of me staring me dead in the eye.

"Jessie, until now you have not asked me for anything in my name."

Now, I definitely don't pray as much as I'd like to. Certainly not as much as I know I should. But I've prayed "in Jesus' name" a bazillion times. I typically end my prayers with it. So what was He saying to me?

"Jessie, until now you have not asked for anything in my name."

I realized that in this moment, God was more concerned with me asking for anything than declaring it His son's name. And He didn't mean anything as in any ordinary basic request that makes a frequent appearance in my prayers. No, he meant the big stuff. What I really want and desperately need. I never ask him for it.

The deepest longings of my heart. The burning desires that consume my thoughts. The biggest, craziest, but most beautiful dreams. I don't ask Him for what I really want.

The things I hunger painfully without. Desperately thirst for. Grow weary and weak without. Require for anything more than simple survival. I don't ask Him for what I really need either.

But God himself placed those desires in my heart. Wired me with those specific passions. And created me to live out those precious dreams.

As long as I'm staying true to the heartbeat He placed inside me, and wanting the desires that naturally comes from it, God wants those same things for me.

But I must ask to receive.

And those places where I'm hungry and tired and weak and weary. Those things I need to bring me rest and peace and joy. He wants to complete my joy.

But I must ask to receive.

What if we asked?

What if we allowed God to honor the deepest desires and craziest dreams He created us with...by simply asking for them?

And what if we in the mist of despair boldly and honestly asked for what we desperately needed?

I think we would receive. Our joy would be complete. We would be transformed. And this world would never be the same.

Tis the Season

Today is December 1st. A new month. A new season. Full of hope, holiday cheer, and gingerbread lattes. Garland and mistletoe. Decorating Christmas trees and sugar cookies. Giving gifts and spending quality time withe loved ones.

For some the Christmas season starts the day after Thanksgiving. And for other psychotic, Thanksgiving-haters, the day after Halloween (I'll spare you how I really feel about those people).

But for me, it has always been December 1st. A new month. A new season. The 25 days of Christmas, as ABC Family sings so well. There's just something different about December that even post-Thanksgiving November can't bring.

Maybe due to the disgusting corporate shopping craze that totally rains on the Thanksgiving Day parade. Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday. Hey, at least they created Giving Tuesday to paint a slightly better picture. But the end of November is just so focused on buying things and spending money that post-Thanksgiving November just isn't the same. It's a spirit of consumerism. Not holiday cheer.

But December comes, and something changes in the air. Regardless of the weather. Don't get me wrong, New England snowfalls are nothing less than magical. Especially this time of year, before they pile up and mix together with dirt and dog pee. December is their prime. Perfectly white, angelic blankets of snow covering the grass. Mesmerizing flakes dancing gracefully as they fall from the sky. It's a little taste of heaven everyone deserves to experience. But even here in Nashville as I soak up the warmth of the sun on my balcony in a t-shirt, I still feel December's magic.

Sure there is added stress in December. Finishing up enough work in order to take those vacation days without getting too buried. Getting the house ready for company. Finding time and money to buy all those gifts. Wrapping them just right. And shipping them off to the various locations. Being around all that family. Trying to meet everyone's standards of the perfect holiday. Grocery shopping for the big meal. Cooking the big meal. Remembering every little detail. Decorating the house. And doing all of this while trying to tie up loose ends at work, leaving you basically putting it off until the last minute.

Yes, that part is a bit stressful. But in my eyes it is so minimal in comparison to the Christmas spirit that comes and dwells here on earth during the month of December.

People are different this time of year. They are more generous. With their time and money. More thoughtful in how they treat others. More loving to their friends and family. Just happier in general. You witness more random acts of kindness. You hear more "thank you's". People's eyes have a sparkle.

Maybe its being reminded of the birth of a baby who changed absolutely everything. But for most of us, I doubt it actually has much to do with the story of Christmas itself. Sad, but true.

I think it's actually people who remind us what the holidays are about. People who we witness giving cash to a homeless man on the street. People who remember our favorite Starbucks holiday drink and surprise us with it on a rough day at the office. People who go out of their way to attend a holiday party, performance, or event that means the world to us.

And people who don't have homes to decorate. Food for Christmas dinner. Money for gifts under the tree. Coats to keep warm during that first snow. People who dream of a Christmas that we would complain was less than mediocre.

I also think its moments. Placing your favorite childhood ornament on the tree. Hugging someone dear who you haven't seen since last Christmas. Building a gingerbread house with your little ones. Watching their eyes get big with amazement as you turn on the Christmas lights for the first time. Singing Christmas songs while baking cookies with friends. Making your first snow angel of the season. Sharing a blanket with your loved one in front of a fire on that first cold winter night.

These moments capture our hearts as they cause the world, work, and all our worries to stand still. They remind us why we're here on this earth. And they teach us to actually live while we're here. To appreciate each day and be present in the moment. They bring perspective and vibrant life along with the purest joy.

This December, I want to actively pursue the Christmas spirit. Instead of wishing I had more time for all traditional holiday activities, I want to make time for living out moments with people I love. I want to soak December in so deeply that come March people think of Christmas when they see me. I want to look and sound like Christmas. I want to be proof of hope, redemption, and new life. I want to give generously, live graciously, and walk humbly. I want to be so present that I remember every detail of these precious holiday moments. I want to inspire others to live out the Christmas spirit. To be that person who reminds them what this season is all about. I want my eyes to sparkle and my smile to be radiant. I want my heart to be a welcoming home for the Christmas spirit to dwell. So welcoming that it permeates the walls of my own heart and overflows into the hearts of others.

Today I am welcoming December. Making room in my heart for the Christmas spirit. And room in my life for the people and moments who deliver it.

Tree of Yellow Hearts

A tree of yellow hearts. Placed perfectly in my view from this resting place. The yellow leaves are brighter this morning. Glistening as they're pattered with drops of rain. Only a few remain on the once crowded tree. Holding on tightly as Autumn comes to a close.

Now that most of the tree is empty, their true shape is revealed. Once overlapping in big piles of yellow, each leaf now hangs independently from a branch. Drawing your eyes to the distinct outline of a heart.

In front of me stands a tree of yellow hearts. And I can't help but think that God created it in this moment just for me. My favorite color, my favorite image, and my  two favorite parts of nature, all wrapped into this one beautiful display of His unfailing love for me.

Fall leaves inspire me.
Rain drops sooth and refresh me.
Hearts speak to me.
Yellow brings me the purest joy.

This morning as I sit on my balcony, sipping coffee and centering my mind and heart, God is reminding me that He is here. He loves me unconditionally. He knows me intimately. He's pursuing me passionately. And He'll never stop. Because He is and will always be here.

Thank you for wooing me. Romancing me. Knowing me so intimately and yet still moving toward rather than away from me.

You are the lover of my soul. Thank you for loving me so well. For showing me how I deserve to be loved, romanced, and pursued. Thank you for reminding me of my worth, which comes from my only identity in You.

All through the simple, magical, breathtaking gift of this tree of yellow hearts.

Psalm 33: 4-5: "For the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does. The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love."

Words from The Creator

Did you know you are creative?

No, really. You are a creative. You are an artist. Writing is an art. A fine art. A creative art.

You see, I am The Creator. And I created you in My image. And that makes you creative. Creativity is in your DNA. You were designed in the image of The Creator of the Universe. Therefore, you were created...to create.

And guess what?

Writing is art. Writing is creating. If you are a writer, you are an artist and creative. Here's why...

Yes, part of my creation is visual. Just like you think of "arts" as the visual arts, like painting, drawing, and photography, most people in this world think of My creation as what they see. The colors of the fall leaves. The way the sky kisses the mountain tops. The power of the sunset. Meadows, birds, beaches, and all sorts of beautiful majesty.

Yes, that is all My creation. All that you see was put there and designed by Me. Including you.

But guess what? My creation is not just visual. Sure, I painted that mesmerizing sky and sketched that intricate tree. But I also wrote the greatest story of all time. And I am still writing it...through each of you.

I am a writer. My creation is also a story. And my story is just as beautiful as what you see in the natural beauty surrounding you.

Words are art.
Story is creative.
Writers are artists and creators.
Just like Me.

When you write, you bring story and words to life with the creativity I blessed you with.

You, my child, are an artist. A wonderfully talented and creative...artist.

Your words are beautiful ART.