Boasting in My Weakness

I’ve got to say, it’s not easy for me to think about writing this post. Even simply typing the title made me pause.

I’m the kind of person who likes to be right—who needs to be right (or at least I think I do). I want to be the one who’s dependable and got it all together.

But, truth is, I’m not – and I don’t.

God is at work in my heart and life. Often I wish He would hurry up and finish so that I would just be good to go. But then I wouldn’t need Him as desperately, would I?

In the past weeks and months, I’ve been wrestling with apathy. Well, actually, a more accurate description would be that I’ve been giving in to apathy without putting up a lot of fight.

I’ve been battling discouragement, hypocrisy, etc. You name one of those inner struggles that’s so easy to put a mask over, I’ve probably been dealing with it to some extent.

But God – He sees right through my masks. Jesus Christ sees my heart with His eyes of blazing fire that our teacher talked about this morning in church (from Revelations 2:18). And yet this same God doesn’t only see in me what I so often focus on, the sin & failures, the guilt. God the Father sees in me the righteousness of His Son, our Savior.

That’s what He reminded me of this afternoon as I knelt on my bed, crying for shame & guilt of my shortcomings. And to my heart, three simple words, yet so profound that it will take eternity to understand: He loves me.

Yes, in myself I am weak – so very prone to give into the temptation of the easy, selfish path. But in my weakness is the opportunity for His strength to be displayed, for His glory.

Because if living the Christian life—a life that pleases God—is something that I could work up to do in my own strength, there would have been no need for Christ to come.

I need Him, He who has fought the war and won the victory; He who has defeated the enemies of sin and Satan and death. The balance is there: The war has been won, and yet I am called to fight the daily battles by the power of the Victor flowing in and through me.

Yesterday as I worked on laundry, some of these same thoughts which have been common these past weeks were already circling in my mind. I shut off the podcast I was listening to, and prayed seeking to listen to my God instead. And in that, I was reminded of the need to put to death my old man, my fleshly desires, each day. But I can’t even crucify my own flesh – that can only be done through the Spirit who brings life in the place of death (Romans 8:13).

Thanks be to God, it is not that I must struggle against my flesh in order to win God’s acceptance and approval. On the contrary, He has adopted me as His daughter through Christ’s death – thereby giving the only reason I have hope of choosing life over the sin and death which form our natural, fallen state (Romans 8:12-17).

And yesterday, as He called me to the beginning of this memory, my mind flew back to a little something I had started in March and finished in June:

I say I started it in March. That’s not strictly true. March is when I pulled some images of crosses from the Internet and selected a font, all of which I began to combine and trace to make this image. But the story of this picture started almost four years ago, on my 21^st birthday at JBU’s Sunday night chapel service. It was there that the words “I am Thine” (referring to myself in relationship to my heavenly Lord, obviously) became emblazoned on my mind. They’ve been there ever since, and often my heart has repeated that cry.

The cross was added to the mental image later, in Northern Ireland. That’s a story of its own, perhaps for another day. But over these past two years since that trip, I’ve been wanting to draw this. Last month, the image was finally completed. And yesterday, it suddenly took on even deeper significance. Not only is the cross the symbol of Christ’s redemption of our souls, it is also the symbol of what we are called to: To take up our cross each day – not to earn our salvation, but because we have it (Luke 9:23-25, Philippians 3:7-11).

These words, this symbol – they are far beyond anything I can accomplish in and of myself. It is all Christ. Therefore, I will gladly boast in my weakness, that through me the strength of His grace may be seen (2 Corinthians 12:9). For His glory alone.

Fresh Love

{I’ve stolen/borrowed this title, as you’ll see later – so I can’t take credit for it!}

This past Thursday evening, I hit a slump of discouragement. There are several probable factors that created it, but in the end God used it to once again remind me how constantly and desperately I need Him. He is all-sufficient, if only I would have the faith to trust and rely on Him rather than myself.

Since then, I have spent some time reading Nehemiah 8 and 9. Those two chapters focus on the reading of the law to the Jews who had returned after exile, and of their response to it. The people were grieved when the law was read and explained by the Levites – and though they were encouraged to not grieve because “the joy of the LORD is your strength” (Neh. 8:10), they later returned to pour their hearts out in confession before God.

During this gathering, the Levites stood up before the people and recounted the history of Israel poetically – but what I found most interesting as I read it this morning is that they started off by blessing God and worshipping Him. The tale they told was one of Israelite rebellion and unfaithfulness, but it was framed and laced throughout with the mercy of God and His worthiness to be obeyed and praised.

As I closed my Bible and prepared to get ready for church, a thought flitted through my mind; something about feeling as though I was just slogging through, trying to do what I knew I should, but often without my heart fully into it. Little did I know then how that very thought would tie into church.

I arrived at church a little early. While sitting there listening to the choir finishing their practice for the service, I watched as a couple of our church leaders brought out the elements for communion. Somehow, that simple sight awakened emotion in me, and a tear had to be wiped from my cheek.

A little later in the service, the Scripture passage for the day’s sermon was read, Revelations 2:1-7. The meat of those verses hit me right between the eyes. Christ, speaking to the church in Ephesus, says:

“I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: have forsaken the love you had at first” (Rev. 2:2-4).

Yes, I thought. Yes, that’s exactly it. That could nearly just as well be speaking about me.

My mind flashed back to a recent group discussion in which I was simultaneously frustrated and prideful. I found myself unduly frustrated with others for not having a working understanding of theological principles which I’ve had something of a grasp on for almost as long as I can remember. And thus the pride came into play as well.

I try to work hard and perform well, often for the sake of giving glory to Christ. I make an effort to hold fast to Scripture, making it my foundation, learning so that I may I understand truth and discern the lie. I do my best to press through times of discouragement.

But where is the love in my heart?

Do I do all these things merely because I am supposed to? Or because my heart is on fire with a love and passion for God and His glory?

While I desire the latter, the former is often more accurate. Just trying to slog through life, to get through one more day.

I don’t want to live like that.

I want to return to the first love of Christ. The love that came, not because of anything I had done but because of what He did. The fresh love, as the preacher put it, that flows from Him through me—of which I am merely a channel, not a creator.

During the sermon, the pastor for the day clarified and reechoed many of these thoughts which had recently been swirling, half-formed, in my mind. In his conclusion, he read 1 Corinthians 13:1-8a. Reminding us that without love, we are nothing. Reminding us of just what kind of love Christ has for us.

As we took communion, our worship leader played a song that had really struck me in church a couple weeks ago. I munched my small square of bread and drank my small cup of juice, remembering what Christ has done for me; remembering that all is by grace.

And so a new day continues, a new hour lies before me. May it be filled with a fresh love for Christ and for others, by His grace.

Incongruity

It’s a normal Saturday for Esther in Uganda: laundry, pancakes, Institute homework, thinking about trying to catch up on emails. The day always flies by too fast.

I went outside to get Internet and check to see if my new laptop had arrived at its Stateside destination for a returning staff member to bring it to Uganda early next week. And that’s when it happened.

As I checked Facebook, I found out about a major earthquake earlier in the day, outside of Kathmandu, Nepal. A friend who was awakened by an early morning call from her son to let her know he and his family were ok. A post from a non-profit in the midst of building competitions and Stateside concerns.

And I had just posted about being annoyed that mosquitoes were biting me because I had forgotten to apply bug spray before going outside.

A minor inconvenience to the trauma and tragedy hundreds of thousands of people are dealing with right now in Nepal. The death toll, already nearing 900, will undoubtedly rise. People, many injured, are/were scared to go back inside because aftershocks continue rocking the buildings.

Somehow, this time it’s sinking in further. So often, it’s easy to read about disasters and just go about my life. But today, it hit home. As I went back inside, thinking about how to spend the rest of my day, the incongruity and unfairness of it all swept over me.

This moment, there are probably people trapped in collapsed buildings, fighting for their lives. There are thousands whose homes were destroyed, who will spend the night outside in the cold. And I was debating what to have for dinner and whether or not to watch a movie.

Incongruity.

It is only by the Lord’s mercy that I am not suffering the same (Lamentations 3:22). That I am instead enjoying innumerable comforts I still take for granted and resent when I don’t have, even here in the bush of Uganda. Why them? Why not me? Why suffering?

We were talking about the sovereignty of God and the role of Satan in class last week. And then this morning, hours before I became aware of all this, I read the part of Romans 9 talking about how God prepares some for destruction and some for mercy (vs. 14-29).

God could have prevented this earthquake. He could have prevented all earthquakes, all natural disasters. But He chooses not to – and the reason is always His plan and His glory. Because He takes things meant for evil and turns them into good. My brain can’t comprehend that, because for those hundreds and hundreds of people who died it doesn’t seem like there can be ANY good in it. But God knows. God loved and cared about every single one of those people, each one as a unique and special creation of His.

It blows my mind to try and think about this. Which is why God is the one in charge and not me! And I am so thankful He is. As I sat on my bed trying to digest the discrepancy between my “challenges” and the life-and-death situation of my fellow humanity right now in Nepal, the tears came. How could I go on about my normal life in the face of this disaster?

Thoughts and ideas flitted through my mind, but the problem is so beyond anything I can really do to affect it. Even prayer feels so small and helpless when looking at things from the perspective of thousands wounded and/or homeless. But prayer is the tool God has given us – and so I prayed. And I will keep on praying. Won’t you join me?

Thankfully, God also uses organizations and individuals to do things both small and big which can help alleviate the hardship of some of these survivors in the coming days and weeks. And just as it is the thought of the individuals who died which makes this feel so overwhelming, so it is the thought of the individuals who will be helped and sustained which brings hope and comfort.

Please pray for Nepal. And please give to help with the relief efforts which will be taking place. Samaritan’s Purse is one organization. I know there are others as well. Don’t forget our fellow humanity in Nepal tomorrow, next week, even in the coming months. They will still need your prayers and support.

Trusting God, Once Again

On Friday afternoon, I received two pieces of news: one that I had assumed for months was coming eventually and one that caught me totally off guard. The latter was the conclusion of several weeks of my choices in interactions with others. I should probably have been expecting things to come to the point that they did. But I was being optimistic and so wasn’t considering the potential “worst” outcome. The news left me hurting and a bit shaken.

This week in Institute class has been all about “Veritas,” a Bible study method. As I moved about our office block, trying to let the news sink in and trying to adjust to the new reality thrust upon me, a verse we had been looking at just before lunch came back to mind: “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace” (Col. 3:15).

“All right, God,” I prayed, “This situation is what You have allowed to happen. And You have called me to peace. Please teach my heart to trust You and rest in peace today, right now.” And He did! I went about finishing my day in the office, and on my way home talked to my mentor a bit about it all, since she’d been walking with me through the situation the past month.

Last night, some of the young people put on a concert. In the greeting and fellowshipping afterward, God allowed me to have a special interaction with a friend. It gave me a glimpse of good things He is doing through the situation, even though part of the outcome is not what I would have chosen.

As I continued thinking about it back at my house, I was reminded that peace is not “everything going my way” – and trust is likewise not “God doing things my way.” Peace and trust are both choosing to rest in God’s goodness, knowing that He loves everyone involved so much more than I do! And that He is working out His plan, even when to my human view it seems like things are falling apart rather than being renewed. As my mentor reminded me, “sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better.” And God is the one directing that process in light of His sovereignty and omniscience! That is where hope and peace and trust find their truest, deepest roots.

This morning, I woke up earlier than I intended to—so even after spending a chunk of time directly in God’s Word it was too early to get ready and go to church. I thought about writing this post, but was feeling a bit under the weather so didn’t want to yet. I ended up deciding to pull out my Kindle version of a women’s devotional, because I remembered I had one more chapter I hadn’t read yet.

Guess what it was about??? Yep, trusting God. I took one look at the title (“Does God Deserve Our Trust?”) and almost laughed. Several things in the chapter—discussing trying to put God in a box, and God as the Potter from Romans 9, for example—have been on my mind already the past year-plus. So many good quotes I could put in here from this chapter! But here’s just a couple:

“The reality is that we often don’t want to trust God until we’ve tried to fix the problem ourselves first….We really don’t give God a second thought until something big comes up” (pg. 153).

“I believe that sometimes we are a little cautious about trusting God because we’re afraid of what He may bring into our lives in order to teach us something or to test us” (pg. 155).

“Does trusting God mean that everything will work out just the way we want it to and that we’ll live happily ever after? No, it doesn’t. That’s a God-box…..Whether you trust God with your life does not change the fact that you still really have no control over your circumstances” (pg. 158).

The authors (Beverly LaHaye and her daughter Lori Scheck) went on to talk about how we must have both a proper view of ourselves and a proper view of God if we are to grow in our trust for Him. It was all such a good reminder, especially in light of everything this weekend! Praise the Lord for His leading and timing :)

So there are no easy answers. I still wish, and I am still tempted to hope, that things turn out differently in the situation that instigated this whole post. But God is using these circumstances that are mostly out of my control to remind me of what trust really means: Resting in His plan, not because it is the same as mine but because He is good.

To God be the glory.

______

The quotes come from the last chapter of A Woman and Her God, edited by Beth Moore.

Why Cast Your Burdens?

Last year about this time, I wrote a couple of posts about the idea of bearing one another’s burdens and casting one’s burdens onto Christ. I had more posts on my mind, but they never reached the stage of being written.

In the past couple months, that theme has been repeating itself in a couple different areas of my life….and so I may write some of those posts I was mulling on last year.

But first, I wanted to mention something else Uncle Jonnes talked about earlier this month after leading us on a journey to the cross, which I talked about in my previous post.

He used a term (Rutegga Mubegga) in his native language, which refers to someone who helps carry someone else’s burden. And he told a story of a man who used this term as a name for Jesus. When he faced troubles and challenges, he taught his daughter how to pray, bringing the burdens to Rutegga Mubegga.

After entrusting them to the shoulder of Jesus, this man was able to live out Christ’s grace and love because he was no longer carrying the weight of the injury done to him. He had entrusted it to the one who judges justly (1 Peter 2:23), and thus was able to serve as a channel of His love and grace.

I really appreciated that imagery, it struck a chord with me. And as I think about it again tonight, I’m reminded of what I wrote in one of my posts last year. We don’t carry our burdens to Christ so that we can have an easy life. No, we are called to surrender the burdens of our sin and our self-protection so that we can take up the burden of loving and caring for others.

Last year, I was going to write a whole post about the song “Let It Go” from Frozen. It resonated with me, because I identified with Elsa’s seeking to find safety by hiding her true self: “Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know.” But as I’ve thought about it more since then, I can see how misplaced her solution (running away to isolation in an ice castle) to that self-oppression was.

While that song is the one that went viral overnight, it’s not the high point of the movie. In fact, it’s closer to the low point. Elsa was indulging herself, not considering others and the effect her choices were having on them.

Her being bound by fear for all of those years, trying to control her powers herself had not worked, but neither did giving in and carrying out her whims with a wild abandon. It’s not a perfect analogy, but I see in the story a parallel to the Christian life. Isolation is never the answer. If you compare Elsa’s powers to humanity’s flesh, we can see the futility of both trying to stuff our desires and wantonly carrying them out.

Both lead to fear and bondage, not freedom.

So where is freedom found? The movie points in the right direction, but can’t give the full answer. Freedom is found in love – more specifically, the love of Christ. In Him removing our burdens as we choose to surrender to Him, by His grace and strength.

Once we have been transformed and released from fear by the self-sacrificial love of our Savior, then we can be truly free to use the gifts which He has given us: not for our selfish-gratification, but rather for the good of others.

Christ takes our burdens that we may be His servants in leading others to Him to have their burdens also lightened, and all for His glory. That is our mission in and through Him.

I Am Free

This morning, I rode a boda from Kasana all the way to Luwero (about a 30 minute trip) for the first time. It was still early, and so the wind was cold. But all the way, there was a song ringing through my mind as the wind whipped my friend’s hair into my face:

“I am free to run,
I am free to dance,
I am free to live for You,
Yes, I am free."

{from the Newsboys’ “I am Free”}

We sang this song and another similar one at Envisioning in January, and I loved both songs immediately because they parallel what God has been speaking into my heart the past couple months. I talked about it in an internal way in a blog post early last month.

On the last day of Envisioning, our New Hope staff had communion together. After we finished, the pastor who had led asked the worship band to play “Jailbreak” again. He called on one of the men to carry a medium-sized cross displayed in our church around the outside perimeter of our meeting area. And he encouraged all of us to parade after it, celebrating the freedom we have in Christ because of His finished work.

Because of the work God had been doing in my life that week, I was eager for an opportunity to express my thankfulness. I tried dancing and singing at the same time, which just made me breathless. For the first time in my life, I worshipped with true abandon….not caring if I made a fool of myself. The memory almost brings tears of joy to my eyes :)

So why do I write all of this now, almost two months later? Because God, in His faithfulness, is continuing to bring home the application of these glorious truths in my life. A big tool for that has been the Institute – it is an amazing, challenging, soul-searching journey rightly compared to heart surgery :) And the past week has been another big step in that process.

Uncle Jonnes, the Ugandan cofounder of New Hope Uganda, did most of the teaching this week about heart wounds, what causes them, and how to deal with them. He has been teaching from Isaiah 53 and Mark 15 about how Christ came to bear and set us free from our sorrows and grief as well as our sin. Yesterday, the week culminated in a journey to the cross.

During an hour of reflection, we each read through some Scripture passages Uncle Jonnes had given us and then spent time thinking about some of the things which have hurt us, the wounds of which we were still carrying. He told us to write them down, then bring them and nail them to the same cross I mentioned earlier.

“Don’t keep a copy!” he instructed. “We’re going to write on each of these papers Jesus’ words: ‘It is finished,’ and then we are going to do with them what needs to be done.” The hour flew by too fast, probably because I was writing more detail than he intended us to. Forgiving a boy for an act of immaturity that I have been subconsciously letting define me for nearly two decades. Losses that I have never grieved properly. Wounds which, though I have been processing them, have still been affecting me. I went onto a second page and was late going back to class. The tears flowed, sometimes at surprising moments.

Finally I made my way back, and with the others nailed the folded paper onto a representation of our Savior’s cross. Uncle Jonnes reminded us that if we keep on carrying these things which Jesus came to put to death with Himself, then we are acting out a belief that His work is not sufficient. A word of prayer, and then the papers were removed.

Uncle Jonnes carried them outside, to where a sigiri waited with hot charcoal on it. And there, as we watched, the papers burned—a sweet smelling offering to the Lord. Those things do not define us: Christ’s righteousness and wholeness does. It. Is. FINISHED. And in our Savior, we are FREE.

The peace and quietness dwelling in my heart since yesterday has been a sweet blessing. Of course, I know there will obviously be more challenges in my life ahead. Even those things I wrote down may continue to haunt and shape me…..IF I LET THEM. As Uncle Jonnes reminded us, this is a journey. And yesterday was just one step of the journey.

But it was a beautiful step, and one I am still rejoicing in today :)

The Story of the Bracelets

This morning, shortly after getting up, I put my laundry in basins to soak for a while before washing it by hand. But before I did, I first removed the six handmade bracelets from my right wrist so I could wash them too. Usually, I wear them 24/7 which means I have a “watch tan” on both wrists!

I’ve been meaning to write the story of these bracelets for a while, and for some reason now seems the right time to do it. I tried to look back at old blog posts and see what I had mentioned about them before, but didn’t find much. Maybe it’s been on Facebook that I’ve mentioned a bit about them.

Anyway, here’s the story. I hope it encourages those who read it somehow.

It started almost two years ago in April of 2013.

No, actually it started before that: in September of 2011 (my junior year of college). We had a visiting chapel speaker who was talking about being a slave of Christ, and the Holy Spirit was really challenging me and convicting me through his sessions. That same month, someone was selling handmade beaded jewelry on campus to help raise money for people in Africa. I had bought a simple black and white choker necklace.

As I thought and prayed about what God was reminding me of through the chapel speaker, I wanted to wear some physical reminder of Christ’s call on my life. So I started wearing the necklace each day, and it helped keep the choice to live my life as Christ’s slave in the forefront of my mind. But within a couple months, I had lost the necklace. I would guess it slipped off as I was walking across campus. I was disappointed at the loss, but life went on.

God had been teaching me and reminding me of so many things in college, following the spiritual revival He worked in my life in my third semester. Ever since August of 2011, one of those lessons had been about His love—especially in light of 1 John 4. You can read more about it here.

Fast forward to April 2013, my last semester of college. One of our campus ministries hosted an even featuring ballet dancing and some testimonies to help raise awareness about sexual trafficking. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but it took me back to the lesson of love, and I felt God calling me to live my life post-graduation intentionally loving others. Again, there was jewelry for sale, and so I bought a woven bracelet with pink and yellow flowers on a blue background as a reminder. I prayed that I would be a vessel of God’s love to those around me.

Bracelet #1: LOVE, 1 John 4 (esp. vs. 18) & John 13:34-35 – April 2013

After graduation, I had a couple of weeks at home before heading back up to Arkansas to join a missions trip from JBU to Northern Ireland. While there, we partnered with the local Youth for Christ in a small town running a VBS for the kids and doing other kid-focused ministry. We had a great team, and I still look back on that month as a special time. God knit our hearts together and to the kids in a unique way, and it was a blessing to be a part of that. I could see the seed of love growing and bearing fruit—certainly not perfectly, but it was there.

During our time there, we gals on the team twice invited the girls from the area to come hang out with us. In our preparation ahead of time, we had decided to make friendship bracelets with the girls. Trying to get 10 girls simultaneously set up for that activity was rather trying for my personality, and I ended up allowing it to put me in a bad mood. Later that night as I sat outside praying through some things, God reminded me that the character trait we had been teaching at VBS that morning was humility. The evening had clearly shown me that I needed the Holy Spirit to work the things we were covering with the kids in my life as well.

Later, possibly all the way in September after my summer internship, I took some of the extra threads from one of the girls’ bracelet that I had saved and braided a new bracelet. {Just this year I had to replace it, because it was a small braid and it wore out. But the colors are the same :)}

Bracelet #2: HUMILITY, Philippians 2:3 – June/Sept 2013

Things didn’t go the way I had expected between June and September. The internship I had thought I would love proved a lot more challenging; the job offer I assumed I would want didn’t come through after all. So I found myself back home with no definite prospects….until a door opened to come to Uganda for a short-term opportunity that could turn into something more permanent.

I liked wearing my bracelets as reminders. It made me think of the altars that God instructed the Israelites to build so that they would remember God’s work in their lives. So even before departing, I looked forward to making another bracelet in Uganda.

Within a few weeks, I was at work on one – in the colors and pattern of the Ugandan flag. This time the lesson was service and sacrifice. It has not been an easy lesson at all. I say “has” because I am still learning it. It didn’t take me long to realize that I need these reminders precisely because the lessons keep coming back around in circles. I haven’t “completed” any one of these goals—but I trust God that He is continuing to work these in me.

Bracelet #3: SERVICE/SACRIFICE, John 12:24-26 – Jan/Feb 2014

My time in Uganda was hard in deeper ways that I had thought it would be. By the time my commitment ended in May, I was so ready to return home. But at the same time, I looked forward to the offered opportunity to come back in a different capacity. As I left, I sensed that my next bracelet altar would be joy, that God would give me opportunity to delight in Him.

I made the bracelet during the drive back from Colorado after my brother’s graduation, a pink and purple square knot pattern, with tan thread as the unseen center. I hadn’t planned that, but later on reflection I could see a correlation. Joy does not mean there are no disappointing/challenging/blah times (like the tan threads). But it does mean that we can choose to focus on the joy that we can have in Christ, even in the midst of the hard times.

Unfortunately, this lesson is not one I lived out well in the following months. I tried to stuff the hardships rather than dealing with them. And stuffing doesn’t bring true joy, it just delays the healing. This was a choice I made, to push God away and to try and find “joy” (the fake sort) in the gratification of my more fleshly desires. And it is something I have had to repent of these last couple months. But thanks be to God for His grace & faithfulness in spite of my weakness!

Bracelet #4: JOY, Nehemiah 8:10 and Psalm 51:12 – May/June 2014

A couple months later, as I started getting in gear to return to Uganda, I wrestled some with what I would be giving up in the process. My hungering desire for a “real job,” one in line with what I studied and one which actually provided an income, nearly stumbled me one weekend. But in the process I realized that I knew nothing of sacrifice.

It was also a renewed call to trust in God’s faithfulness. This was, like love, not something new. It has been a recurring theme for me ever since that same summer of 2011. A lot of my blog posts on here have dealt with it in one way or another. But I am learning that it is one thing to agree intellectually that God is faithful and that I can trust Him. It is another thing to live it out in the daily walk of life.

And so, I spent several hours knotting a more complicated bracelet – often praying as I did so. It features orange fish swimming in a river of various blues.

Bracelet #5: TRUST & FAITH, Psalm 73:28 – August 2014

Coming back to this beautiful country was exciting, especially getting to see again the friends I had made before! Of course, it also brought with it a fair share of challenges. The biggest one has been gaining a more God-centered perspective (in contrast to Me-centered) regarding some of the events of my life—especially because that has often meant needing to take responsibility for the me-centered choices I had made at the time.

In the process, it is easy for me to start berating myself mentally for my shortcomings and mistakes. To hold that guilt and failure over my own head. When I turn to Christ in repentance, I found myself met each time with His acceptance and love and grace. I am learning that for Him, the past is the past. He does not impute my iniquities against me (Romans 4:8).

And so, when I have placed my past sins under the blood of Christ, I am FREE from that guilt! Not always immediately freed from the results of them, but there is no condemnation in Christ (Romans 8:1). Because of this, I can have hope for the future rather than being bound by the past.

These things came together into my most recent bracelet, an orange zigzag surrounded by light shades of yellow and green. As I was making it on a car ride down to Kampala, my fellow travelers were discussing the difference between guilt and conviction. I couldn’t help but smile at God’s timing!

Bracelet #6: FREEDOM & HOPE, John 8:34-36 & Romans 5:5
 – Jan/Feb 2015

So that brings my bracelet story up to date! Looking back, I can see that for much of this time (especially June 2013-May 2014) I have been trying to fulfill these lessons in my own strength. Which is rather arrogant and honestly just silly! In the last couple months, God has been reminding me that I am called to be His disciple, and to serve for His glory and His kingdom—not my own. It has been a timely lesson, and I am so thankful to know that He will continue the good work of transformation which He has begun in my life!

And so the journey continues :)