Fear will rise up in us. But we don’t have to grab hold of it. We can let it rise with a victorious release.

Maybe in this moment, unity is to be entangled, to say, “I accept your loose ends. I accept what you are working through.”

I waste a lot of time simply not trusting God. I use a lot of energy rehearsing ways to keep my grasp, get a grip, and salvage some sort of control over my circumstances.

He is infinitely more patient with me than I am with myself. While I am busy throwing a tantrum in my inner world, He is watching and waiting.

The Christian life - a constant dance of death and life - and the celebration and the mourning of both. 

We know that Christ came to turn the tables, flip the script, tear the veil and reveal a kingdom - a kingdom glistening with hope. 

We come to Him - flickering and fighting, covered in dust and darkness - and He wipes us clean, so that we may shine again, brighter and clearer.

I love this Psalm because it lifts my heart and sets new heights of hope around every corner.

It is kingdom-minded to recycle, compost, carpool, and consume mindfully. We are building toward eternity. 

We are cloaked in His promises day and night. And this is our truth as we continue to walk in the mysteries of the Spirit.

What would it look like for panic to not be a part of your process?

The deep places are certainly uncertain, completely counterintuitive, and absolutely terrifying. Follow His gaze, hold tight, and jump anyway.

God does not want to go without us - without my little sold-out heart that beats for Him.

Yes, you are at the bottom. You are in the pit. But Christ, compelled by compassion, loves you and lifts you from it.  

Jesus wiped the slate clean for all. He leveled the playing field for all. He is running for the hearts of all people. At the end of the day, can I say the same?

God’s heart is for us. Therefore, the Holy Spirit is prompting us. The Holy Spirit is guiding us. The Holy Spirit is wooing us.

His presence is there to provide the rest, peace, wholeness, direction, and approval we so desperately long for. 

But hope is alive. It’s after us. And it is not for the fool. It is not for the faint of heart. It does not put us to shame. 

This week holds a lot of unknowns. I want to be committed to praying through the heaviness and the confusion.

In reading about ancient worship, I actually feel a pull to be more undignified. I feel full permission to take up space and be myself.