The Worship Leader Who Lost Her Song

Hello again. Once more, it has been a while. I've had a simultaneously rough and wonderful past two years, and I hope to eventually share some of my stories with you. There are so many moving pieces in my testimony with many pieces being intertwined and both feeding and fueling one another. Some parts are hard to share, but I do believe God will use them to change lives, so hold on for that, I guess.

I want to discuss the word "purpose" in a different light today. My previous posts were about finding purpose in the pain you've been through and basically finding that God can bring new understanding and perspective from every situation. Everything indeed happens for some reason, I believe, and I've sought to use my life and the reasons God has shown me to help someone else in a similar spot find their reason and purpose for the pain they're currently going through or have survived. In this post, however, I want to explore how the devil attacks our purpose, our ministry, and, for me as of late, our identity in Christ and its relation to the previous two aspects I mentioned.

Today, I want to discuss a large part of my identity in God and in life: I am a worship leader. To most, you hear it and just think of the band at your church or the person singing on the stage, but it's so much more than a song or a voice. It's something that's ingrained in your heart, in the very fibers of your spiritual DNA. You love to sing. You love to praise and worship God. You love being in His presence and helping lead others into His presence as well. You love sharing your heart and God's words with others. You love singing songs of victory, perseverance, breakthrough, worship, and deliverance. You love seeing people's eyes fill up with tears as they process the words you're singing, words they've felt but were previously unable to put into words themselves. You love seeing God use you to make a difference in His kingdom. You love God's people and being a vessel for God to work through.

From a young age, this was me. I loved to sing. It was my greatest passion. It's where I felt at home. I felt safe, confident... whole. It brought me more joy than anything else. I joined the adult choir at church at age 15 and over the years became one of the main lead singers, eventually becoming the assistant director to my aunt at age 19. During my junior year of college, I started attending a campus ministry and after one semester, I joined the worship band there, which is still one of the better decisions I've ever made. Suddenly the girl who had only gotten to sing along to instrumental CDs was getting to finally lead worship with a live band; I could pick whatever song I wanted, be spontaneous, and be free. It was exhilarating! God used me there, giving me words of encouragement for the group and reminding them we all have struggles, but God can defeat them all. I was being used at two places, leading worship for a total of four services a week, almost every week. Church was my life, and I was completely okay with it. It felt good. It was my escape, my happy place.

I was the worship leader. That's how I identified myself to new students ("I'm the girl who leads worship"). That's how I identified myself at church, and frankly how most of my church has come to identify me as well, even more so than being the pastor's daughter, I would say. I found myself in God through my position as a worship leader. It was what He called me to be after all, so how could it be a bad thing to place my identity in?

To this, I ask... what happens to a worship leader when you attack and steal her song?
Rather, who is she when she no longer has a song?

In the last year of my life, the devil has attacked my identity as a worship leader.
He attacked my confidence as I have battled insecurities with my voice.
He attacked my passion to minister to the congregation as I felt my words were falling on deaf ears.
He attacked my focus as distractions in the church and on the stage took my mind off the words I was singing and led me to feeling bitter, angry, and discouraged.
He attacked my sense of self as I have questioned my worthiness and battled shame.
Most of all, he attacked my identity as a worship leader to the point that I no longer wanted to lead worship.

The girl who passionately led worship at two places slowly lost her desire to sing, and without that desire, I didn't know who I was anymore. For years, that was my position. That was how I fulfilled God's purpose in my life. That's what I contributed to God, so what happens when you no longer love your calling, or more so when you no longer feel like you are your calling? Who are you then?

This is where I found myself in April of 2019. I was a broken girl with too much of her plate, feeling constantly torn between the two ministries I was involved in and trying to be a good participant of both while also trying me to be a good daughter, friend, and girlfriend (which for the latter was basically a new experience for me). I was going through the motions, picking songs based on what I had already done and what was easy, not because I felt led to sing that song or like it was what someone needed to hear. I was tired of my life and the responsibilities I willingly had taken on. For once, I wanted to just be me, but the problem is that I no longer knew who that was apart from leading worship. Who am I in the church if I don't sing? If I'm not on stage ministering? Who am I?

After a long conversation with my dad and deciding to step down from my church choir for a few weeks, I realized what had happened to me over the last few years. I had wrapped my identity in God up in my ministry, thinking that was the most important part of me and what God wanted me for. I had forgotten that, before I am a worship leader, I am His child, and one that He loves dearly at that. I had placed my value in Him in my ministry, which is why when I didn't feel like I was being very successful in furthering His kingdom, I felt like I was a failure to God.

But that's not true.

Before I was created, God knew me. He knew who I would be. He knew I was a worship leader, but He also knew that I would be loud and laugh a lot. He knew I would love people to the point that it hurts me. He knew I would have trouble letting things go. He knew I would love to talk and that I would want to share my stories with people. He knew everything about me, and it still amazes me that He loves me despite that. He knew all the good and the bad and still saw me as someone worth creating. Whenever I see God in that sense, as the One who literally formed me in His hands and handpicked my individual traits, me being a worship leader seems like a much smaller piece of my puzzle.

It's part of my purpose, but it no longer is my identity.

Your ministry is important, but it's not what makes you important to God.
You are important to Him whether you ever serve Him or not because, either way, you are His child, and He still loves you.

Before anything, YOU ARE HIS CHILD.
Before you are a pastor, you are His child.
Before you are a Sunday School teacher, you are His child.
Before you are a campus minister, a band member, a kids' group sponsor, a blogger, a daughter, a son, a spouse, a friend, or even the parent of someone else, you are His child.

And in similar news (since we tend to forget this in the church):
Before you are an alcoholic, you are His child.
Before you are an addict, you are His child.
Before you are a liar, a thief, a hypocrite, an adulterer, or a gossiper, YOU ARE HIS CHILD.

The devil will attack your identity as a child of God. That's a given, but He will also come against what you value in yourself and make you feel as though your efforts are unimportant. Like you're wasting your time. Like no one hears you, much less cares what you have to say. In these moments, remind yourself that you are a child of God. My dad has said this so many times, but God has no step-children. We are all made in His image, formed in His hands, and given the opportunity to live with Him forever if only we decide to ask Him into our hearts, ask for forgiveness, and follow Him. Either way, we are His children. You are loved by Him, and He has a divine purpose for your life that only you can complete. He called you, and He doesn't care if you've walked away or slacked off; He just wants you to come back to Him and get to know Him. Know His love is that of a kind father and He's always waiting at the door if you ever decide to pack your bags, come back home, and knock on the door (spoiler: He'll always let you in).

To my fellow leaders, go forward knowing God sees you for more than just your ministry and what you do for His kingdom. He sees you as His child first and wants to pour into you first before He sends you to pour out to others. He never wants any of us to go without or stumble on feeling weak and lifeless. He loves you for just being His child. I hope this resonates with you if you're feeling real tired, defeated, and lonely today... You are definitely not alone. We have big jobs to do, but we can't properly shed the light of Jesus on others and tell them they're children of God like us if we don't even fully view ourselves as being loved for solely being His child. We should want to do all we can for Jesus; the purpose of this was not to say, "Forget your ministry and do nothing. Just be loved." No, God gave us each a purpose He wants us to fulfill. I want you to know, though, that He does not want you to see yourself as only important to Him based on what you can give Him or do for Him. God doesn't really need anything from us; realistically, what can we give a God who has all things but ourselves? God wants us to do for His people, but first, we have to see ourselves through God's eyes before we can start telling others how God views them with that same love. You are important either way, and you are more than your ministry.

For me, right now, I'm still figuring out what God wants to do with me, and I still battle feeling a lack of purpose whenever things aren't really going like I feel they should be. I'm still trying to find my song again. A new, refreshing one. Sometimes I feel it, but then sometimes I don't, but all the while, I know who my Father is, and I know He's got me no matter where He decides to take me or what He decides to make of me, so I guess I'm just going to be crazy enough to trust Him.

It's funny: God knows exactly what we're going to be, and throughout life, He slowly shows us our ministry, part by part. In the last year, I've realized He wants me to eventually travel and talk about subjects the church tends to shy away from, topics I couldn't have ever discussed three years ago, especially without making a few mistakes along the way. Our ministry changes as we go, so for people struggling to find your purpose, just make sure you're placing it in God and He'll slowly reveal parts of it to you in time. Be willing to try new things and take risks. Join the choir, help with a church play, assist in the kids' ministry. You might just find it to be a piece of your puzzle, a piece of what God called you to be.

In conclusion, I want to remind you: DON'T PLACE YOUR IDENTITY IN YOUR POSITION.
Only place your purpose and identity in God and what He says you are.
Ultimately, Jesus is the only one who sees our hearts and knows our intentions, hurts, and struggles.
Other people will see you how they want to see you, whether good or bad, but He sees and knows all. Do not allow the devil, others, or even yourself to attack your identity or make you feel like you are nothing outside of your ministry.

You are a child of God, and you are ONLY what He says you are.

When God Tells You to Stop Being Petty

It has been a while, guys. I've been waiting for quite some time now for something to hit me to the point where I needed to write it down and share it, and the time has finally come. When God tells me things, it's usually for me individually or for people in my church, but this is something I think we all (especially me) need to work on. So let's go.

The past three days have been interesting for me. Very busy. For the first time in months, I was able to attend our church's kids' ministry night on Friday. It fills me with such joy when I'm there because the kids all enjoy it so much, and they really listen and take things away from the nights. I come into our practice for that night, and a lady was talking to us about her family and the trials that are happening within it. Let me tell you that all Hell has broken loose on this family, and I honestly do not know how they are holding it together at all. That is a miracle and just a testament to God in itself. She started crying as she explained the situation, and it really stirred something in me. What kind of strength does it take to stand strong for your children while their lives fall apart, especially when you feel like falling apart as well? How does one lay aside their own pain and cover that up to remain strong for the ones experiencing the worst of it? How do you do that?

For almost a month now, a lady in our church has watched as her husband, who has been one of the healthiest, most hard-working people I know, fell ill to the point where it looked like he could pass away at any time. Thank God that He had another plan. The man has been making progress and recovering, but it is very likely that he will never be able to work again (or at least not to the same capacity as he previously did). This morning in church, though, she prayed for multiple people around the altar, all the while knowing that her family's situation probably surpassed the situations of the people she was praying for. How do you not only hold it together for your family, but continue to persevere and minister to people while in your greatest pain? How do you do that?

This morning I walk into church to see a lady I love dearly weeping. Someone had simply mentioned the name of someone very special in her life, and she just fell apart. She battles so much that she never lets others see. She's a very private person, yet today, her pain was too much to hold in. I know she's not someone that likes for people to see her cry, so I knew it had to be bad. I felt so much sadness for her. I slid my hand onto her shoulder and just sat there with her, just to try to let her know I was there for her. I'm not great at consoling or having the right words, but I figured her feeling me there beside her would mean something. How does someone hold all that in to the point that they break? How much pain has to build up for someone that doesn't show that kind of emotion to let it pour out? How do you put your needs and feelings on the back burner to prevent feeling like a burden to people? How do you do that?

This all leads to tonight. I open Facebook to see pictures of a friend of mine from my church group on campus in a hospital bed attached to machines. A simple pain in his body led to him being in the ICU with the possibility of never being able to walk again. He wasn't able to breathe on his own. He had just been playing volleyball (which I do twice a week), felt a pain, and ended up in the hospital. They said in the back of the ambulance, he made a statement that if he died, he knew he would be with Jesus.

Then God hit me. Like, for real, I felt like He slapped me upside my head. He convicted me, and then He reminded me of all that I've seen the past three days.

I find it easy to get caught up in the drama of my everyday life. The absolute nonsense of it all. Whether it's sometimes getting irritated with my friends, having to work, guy problems, or family-related, I let my life get the best of me sometimes. As a worship leader, I minister every service. There are some services I have attended knowing that I needed something, but I still poured out to people. No matter the state I'm in, I try to minister, but lately, I feel like I've started becoming numb to it all. How do you see all this trauma going on around you and still feel like you have something to complain about? It's stupid, but I do sometimes. Somehow the situations in my life still manage to cloud my vision to where I see my own problems first. Meanwhile, God's showing me people in my life that are actually going through Hell, and whatever I'm dealing with right now is so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

My family is healthy. My aunt has recently battled breast cancer, and she is currently undergoing chemotherapy for it, but she is doing incredibly well. She wore her wig to church this morning with a smile on her face, and most people thought it was her real hair. I have parents that are still very much in love, and my household is calm (well, besides the fact that we're crazy and loud). I am in college and only a year away from graduating. I attend a church that loves and supports me, and that really is a model for what a church family should be. I attend a church on campus that gives me friendship and an opportunity to minister to people my age. I receive so much Godly advice there from my friends. God has given my friends who have shown me kindness and love. I'm an "honorary" aunt to a little girl that has my heart and that I get to watch grow up. I will get to be someone she grows up around and hopefully looks up to, and every day, she is a reason why I try to better myself: so I can be someone worth watching and imitating. I'm not the best singer by any means, but God has given me the ability to sing and put my thoughts into music. I'd be even crazier if I didn't have that outlet of expression.

He reminded me today that I need to stop being petty. I AM BLESSED.

I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and allowing that to prevent me from fully understanding the weight of the needs surrounding me. God called me to minister, and I can't minister if I'm neck-deep in self-pity and unresolved issues. I need to grow up.

So to both myself and you reading:
None of the stuff that is stressing you out would matter if your children's lives were falling apart. Hurt feelings do not matter when your loved one could go to eternity at any minute.
Rude comments and anger would not matter if you could not speak to the person you love most.
And your prayers about God sending you the love of your life seem awfully petty when your friend can't breathe on his own.

You're not wrong for being hurt, angry, or offended by people's actions. Your reactions were probably deserved. You're not wrong for wanting to do well in school or your job. God wants you to succeed in all that you do! You're not wrong for wanting God to send you an incredible partner to live your life with. He wants to send that person to you in due time.

But we are all wrong when we place the importance of these things over God and His ministry in our lives. Whenever a "good ole Christian" makes an ungodly remark at you, they are definitely wrong in doing so, but don't let that person take you away from the presence of God. Don't let them win or destroy you. Don't let that cloud your judgment to where you can't see a reason to stay and continue ministering to people. When we care more about having a relationship with a guy or girl than one with Jesus Christ, we are WRONG. When we come to church constantly only looking to receive and never expecting to give, we are wrong.

We need to get to a point where we can be aware of the magnitude of our own needs, but not allow them to cover up how major the ones in other people's lives are. I am reminded of the Hillsong song "Lead Me to the Cross." A line in it says, "Everything I once held dear, I count it all as lost." I think that's what He's calling us to do. All the small things... let them go. Turn our eyes to the hurting people in the world and the ones who don't know Him and to get over our hang-ups. In the end, only what you do for Him will matter. We forget that. When it comes to Him and His calling, I need to put aside my little things so I can minister to the ones who need hope and deliverance now. I need to be ready to be used instead of feeling bad for myself or letting things get me down. I need to get over myself and see the bigger, and more important, picture. These people need help NOW, and I am so unbelievably selfish if I let my nonsense keep me from showing God's love and power to them. I want to be able to count all else outside of Him as lost when He calls me. I want to be able to leave the baggage behind when He wants me to sing and speak. I want to be a willing and usable vessel.

I believe there are times in our lives when we just need to be ministered to, but we need to understand that sometimes even during that time, God wants us to do something for His people. Sometimes God shows you things in these times to share with people in similar situations and to encourage them. The three ladies were all used in the past three days to bring glory to the kingdom of God. They all ministered in the midst of their struggle. My friend has been a true light for Jesus. My main prayer for him is full recovery, and God knows if He healed him of this, my friend would testify of what he has went though and of God's great mercy. I know this.

There are more people in the world than just you and me. There are more struggles than just the ones we and our select few deal with. There is a world crying for hope, for peace, for clarity. We are failing them so badly if we are so consumed in our own nonsense that we can't lead them to the love of Christ. We need to also be lifting up our brothers and sisters in Christ because I would dare say that nobody who is truly serving God now has a life that's a bed of roses. We need to be praying for and ministering to each other more than we ever have because that's what it will take to keep everybody going. That and their relationship with Jesus firstly.

Tonight, God just reminded me of how unbelievably blessed I am, and to stop worrying and instead start freely placing my life even more into His hands. I am such a little piece in this grand puzzle, but I can make a great impact to the pieces surrounding me if only I will allow God to work through me even when I don't feel like it. I want to live this life in the knowledge that God has me, and all these people I mentioned, in his hands. Not a thing will touch us that He doesn't allow. We have to keep believing there is PURPOSE in all of this, and the purpose for this topic is not a universal one. It's whatever the person has to learn in the situation. Maybe they need to learn to trust Him more. Maybe they need to put Him first instead of other things. Maybe they need to listen. The reason for these trials in our lives is different depending on what God needs to teach us and what He has in store down the road. We may not ever know the reason for it during our time on this earth, but I believe that we will know in Heaven.

The best example I have is that my grandfather developed cancer late in his life and spent all those years not knowing Christ and chasing things of the world. On his deathbed, he became aware of his humanity. He finally realized that he needed God, and maybe that wouldn't have happened if his health had stayed in tact. God did not give him cancer (life happens), but I believe cancer led my grandfather to God. It was hard losing him, but I can definitely say it would have been harder losing him and wondering which eternity he was in. Now, my family doesn't have to worry.

In conclusion, let's stop being petty. Let's stop letting the little things in life make us think we have it the worst. Let's stop sitting down with empty faces and being unaffected by the tragedy around us. Let's start feeling one another's burdens. Let's start praying for others like we would want them to pray for us. Let's start coming to church ready to minister, not expecting to receive but being happy if we do.

There are people knocking on the door if only we are listening for them to come in.

"I'm LETTING GO... Falling into you."

September 3, 2015:

A Thursday. Much worse than usual. I remember. It was one of those days that left you miserable, and you aren't even sure why. It was six o'clock in the evening, and I find myself in my car racing from college back to a district church service near my home. I was hysterically crying. At this point, I was eight months into my battle with loneliness. I was given occasional glimmers of hope, but nothing permanent. I was searching, longing for a change. I needed it desperately. I no longer had my joy, my free spirit, my confidence. I was becoming a shell of the person I once was, and I hated myself for becoming that. I was listening to "Letting Go" by Steffany Gretzinger and was overwhelmed with emotion, especially on the line that says, "You remind me of things forgotten." I had forgotten what genuine happiness felt like or how it felt to not carry that burden with me everywhere I went. It's a beautiful song; one of my favorites. As I was driving to church, I remember praying, "Lord, I need to see a light at the end of this tunnel. If you don't show me hope, I'm not going to find it." That's where I was at. At that point, I saw no way out. No visible sign of hope. I had been tormented for eight months now, and strangely, it's almost like I had forgotten life without that pain. I was almost afraid to give it up because it had become so much a part of my daily life.

I can still hear my mom asking me about a church service earlier that week, "Whitney, if you knew you were feeling this way, why didn't you go up in the service and get prayed for?"

My answer? I WASN'T READY TO LET IT GO.

Let me tell you guys, God is a God of power. He can make any change needed in your life, but let me tell you also what He cannot do: He cannot make us give our battles to Him.

If I had went up and gotten prayed for before I was ready to give my loneliness and anger up, it wouldn't have mattered. Yeah, maybe I would've felt better in the moment, but my struggle wasn't going anywhere, not because God couldn't have taken it from me, but in all honesty, I wouldn't let Him. In my mind, I thought I was offering it up to Him with each prayer. In reality, I still wanted to hold a grudge. I still wanted to hate somebody. I still wanted to be angry and bitter, and I felt justified in it. 

Ah, but then this night came where I reached my unexpected breaking point. I get myself together and go into the church. "Amazing Grace" is filling the air, praises to our Father. Beautiful atmosphere. Then "Break Every Chain" starts to play, which if you read the first loneliness blog, you would know that's when I first embraced my weakness. The pastor gets up and states, "If you leave with your chains, tonight, it's your fault." And it's like a rock sunk in my stomach. That kind of sinking feeling that only the knowledge that you're about to do something you don't want to can cause. I knew I had chains. On top of that, I knew the pastor was speaking directly to my soul. My tell-tale sign of when I'm supposed to do something in a service (my heart starts thumping in my stomach) started to make itself known, and they say you know it's God when it's something you do not want to do. Well it was definitely God because the last thing I wanted to do was get up in a district service (which I have never done other than singing in the choir) and get prayed for by strangers. God, however, made it pretty clear to me that my freedom was there that night. 

The thing is I had came to such a dark place that I don't think there was much, if anything, I wouldn't have done at that point to be free of my baggage. And let me tell you, oh strong ones, if you haven't reached that breaking point, you will. Life will bring you to your knees, and there will come a point that you will do whatever you have to to rid yourself of the pain. I was willing to do what was necessary if it meant being delivered from my loneliness. 

After a long time of waiting because the service was going so well, I was about a nervous wreck. I just had to go. I weaved my way through the crowd at the alter to track down the preacher praying for everyone. I told him of my burden and that I needed free of it. He prayed for me and instantly, there were hands all over my body praying. I heard the prayers of the people surrounding me. Them lifting me up. I became weak and started to give it to Him. Things around me starting calming down though, all the people, so I started collecting myself to go back to my seat. I felt better, but I knew I wasn't completely free. I almost left the alter still as a broken girl. This is why I can now sympathize with people that leave church services without getting their help.

A lady put her hand on me and said, "I still feel a chain here." And there I go all over again, sobbing, but this time was different. I just let myself collapse into the arms of strangers and of one of my best friends. I felt a heaviness leave my heart. I physically felt lighter. My loneliness didn't return after that night, so I know what chain was broken at that alter. I am thankful, you don't even know.

He gave me hope. He restored me. I felt whole again like I hadn't in eight months. I was delivered on that night. I still have situations that arise trying to bring the loneliness back, but I have not been overwhelmed by it since that night. I was fully delivered. I am free.

I could talk all day about the mental war I fought in and the darkness I lived in, but the truth of the matter is that in the most pain I had ever been in, I was given the greatest gift I've ever received:

A BEST FRIEND NAMED JESUS.

I have always been a Christian. I have always loved Jesus. I have worshipped Him for years. I have lived for Him. But somehow in all this, I didn't fully understand how desperately I needed Him. 

I had to be broken, completely shattered before He could begin to mend me. In these months, I spent more time with Him than I had at any other point in my life. I invested hours a day watching Bethel church service videos (CHECK OUT STEFFANY GRETZINGER, or really any of them, BUT MAINLY HER) and being flooded by the spirit. I found myself having church in my bedroom sometimes just watching how God shown on others, or even better, going back and listening to old church recordings I had of our youth choir Extended leading worship. I had church everyday of the week all alone. I finally knew what it was like to know Jesus as my best friend.

What's ironic about this is my loneliness occurred due to my lack of understanding and my longing to have someone in my life that could provide that (whether it be a significant other, best friend, or loved one), and instead of giving me an earthly version of that, He gave me Him. Instead of sending me a best friend or love, He sent Himself. Instead of searching for a person to complete me, I am complete in Him, and that is a far better option that looking for a human to make you whole. I have never been the type to need someone; I just have too much pride for that, but let me tell you, this girl needs Jesus. I am NOTHING without Him. Absolutely nothing. He didn't answer my prayer in the way I expected, but He answered it in a much greater way. People can come and go, but my God is permanent. He is never failing, unchanging, and has a RELENTLESS love for us.

If I had never went through loneliness, I never would've grown to love Him like I do now. He wouldn't mean what He does to me now. I know that because He wasn't that to me before. It was worth it all for the love I share with Him now. I would do it all over again as many times as I have to for what I feel with Him now. 

The PURPOSE of letting go is learning to trust Him along the way. Breaking before Him so He can fully reconstruct you in His image and in His way.  His way is higher than ours. We cannot save ourselves or fix ourselves, but we serve a wonderful God who can if we will offer up our faults to Him. You will love Him deeper. You will know Him with a closeness that a casual relationship with Him cannot allow. It's about the time you spend with Him when He is the only one you can turn to. It's putting your complete faith in His ability to make beauty from your ashes.

I want to tell you that now I am free. Seven months free of my darkness. Loneliness does not define me. Jesus does. I want you to know He can do the same for you if you will lay your battles in His hands. It will be a journey. Probably a long one that will bring you to your knees. One that will leave you out of breath wondering what else can go wrong. One that will make you question if all the good days have passed and if this sadness is what your life will remain as.

But even in those moments, know He's there. Know that He is using these moments of weakness as a gateway to speak to your heart. I have learned you will listen to Him a whole lot better in that state than when you're all happy. He doesn't like to see you hurt and know He already has a plan of what beauty He is going to make from your ashes. There is already a solution and perfect ending in His mind, but you just gotta trust in Him, and that's not always easy.

The journey was worth it. Every bit of my pain. Every night I lied awake feeling worthless and unwanted. Because now I know just how wanted I am: He died for me before I existed, He loved me in my failure and doubt, and He never gave up on me. I love Him deeper than before. I have more compassion for others and can love them better because I know some of the extent of His love. I want to show others the love He has shown me. He has used me to teach others and to uplift them. That's what he's kind of doing now, as I think about it. He didn't bring me through it for me to do nothing. He wanted someone to know there is always hope in Him when you let go and let God. You just have to believe it and give it to Him. He is ready and willing to take it off you. He wants to be your best friend too.

In conclusion, here's the link to "Letting Go": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-O0nyTAHJU 

Here's the lyrics. Read them out loud to God. Let Him know what He means to you. As always, thanks for reading, and I hope this touched you in some way.

"Letting Go"

You've brought me to the end of myself This has been the longest road Just when my hallelujah was tired You gave me a new song I'm letting go I'm letting go I'm letting go Falling into You I confess I still get scared sometimes But perfect love comes rushing in And all the lies screamed inside go silent The moment You begin I'm letting go I'm letting go I'm letting go Falling into You You remind me Of things forgotten You unwind me Until I'm totally undone And with Your arms around me Fear was no match for Your love Now You've won me And if I lived a thousand lifetimes And wrote a song for every day Still there would be no way to say How You have loved me Oh, how You love me And that's how You've won me

"Mighty is the Power of the CROSS."

This began on Thursday night. I attended a bible study hosted by one of my closest friends, and we have been reading "25 Days to Coming Alive at Christmas" for the past few weeks. (It's actually wrote by a hilarious friend of ours, Jenn Hand. Go look her up and read her stuff. It's both entertaining and filled with God!) We read each day's chapter on our own and then basically recap our personal highlights whenever we get together. Day 15 is named "Mighty God," and I knew instantly by the title that I would probably love it. And I did. The whole word for the day was drenched in reminders of His ultimate power over EVERYTHING. Reminders of Him defeating death and the cross. Reminders that He came knowing that He would have to give His life for us. There was a portion that stated that He would take the sins of the world in His nail-pierced hands. The very ones that hung the stars in the sky would be scarred for us. That's a powerful statement. The very hands that stretched out on the cross were the same ones that created the tree it was made from. He chose to die so He could breathe life into us.

A girl in the bible study brought up watching "The Passion of the Christ" when she was younger. The movie left an imprint on her. When she saw the words "nail-pierced hands" in the chapter, she had goosebumps because just those words alone put the vision from the movie in her mind. She was so emotionally moved by the thought of His hands being scarred. It sparked a conversation among the rest of us about that image. Him crucified, beaten, bloody. Dying for us.

I purposely avoided this movie because I knew I couldn't handle it. Just watching snippets of it led me to hysterical crying, and I don't just do that. The cross has always hit me so hard, and that's why I try not to linger on it. I want to picture Jesus as the man who rose from the dead or the baby in the manger, but I'm doing Him a disservice by not acknowledging one of the most significant parts of His story: He voluntarily chose to suffer and die so He could spend eternity with the very ones who led Him to the cross. 

We don't want to see Jesus like that because we see the reflection of our sin in His blood. In His scars. In His pain. I hate to think of what Jesus went through. I definitely hate to think He did that for ME. I did that to Him. My sins nailed Him to that tree. Do you understand that if you were the only soul He had to go to the cross for, He would? HE WOULD DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN. A countless amount of times. Because for some reason, even in all of our failure and mayhem, He still loves us. And He never will stop. Isn't that wonderful to think about?

Last night (Day 19) covered the cross, ironically or not, and reminded me that from His very first cry, He knew His last cry would be suffering on a cross. HE KNEW THAT. Can you imagine what it would be like to live life knowing how you were going to die, and on top of that, knowing you would be tortured to save the people torturing you? What kind of love does that take? When I sat and rehashed the story of the cross, I began to cry out to my Lord. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I was overwhelmed with guilt. There I remained for a while just apologizing to Him for having to do that for me, but also thanking Him because He chose me over His own life. He thought I was worth dying for, and if that doesn't make you feel loved, I don't know what will.

Someone DIED for you so you may LIVE forever with Him.

Someone SUFFERED for you so that when your battles arise, He can take them off your shoulders.

Someone CHOSE spending His eternity with you over His own life.

The PURPOSE of remembering the cross is simple: We need to be reminded that someone gave it all for us. When we don't feel like worshipping, remember WHY and WHO you're worshipping. What you are worshipping Him for. And if that doesn't make you want to praise His name, I don't think anything will. When we get caught up in our tiny daily issues, we need to remember that this man lived every day of His life in misery knowing that it would eventually end in the most painful way possible. And on top of that, He knew that He was dying for people that wouldn't follow Him, hated Him, would mock Him, and He still did it! NOBODY ON EARTH HAS DONE ANY OF US THAT HORRIBLY. I REPEAT NOBODY. Before we allow things of this world to cloud our vision, remember eternity and the price it cost Him. Don't let His spilled blood go in vain. "If Jesus can die for you, the least you can do is live." And the least we can all do is recognize Him for just who He is: our redeemer, our strong tower, our shield, our defense, our conqueror, our savior, our God, and best of all, our eternity. Remember He gave it all for you like nobody else ever has and ever will. Remember that He is a MIGHTY GOD that has the ability to save us, if only we will let Him do it. Remember the cross. And Him. And His unconditional love for us. 

In conclusion, two songs are lingering in my mind. Sing them to your king. Look them up and spend some time thanking Jesus for the cross and the love we never deserved. Thank Him for all He's done because He is worthy to be praised! Here:

"I'm forgiven because You were forsaken.

I'm accepted; You were condemned.

I'm alive and well, Your spirit is with me

because You died and rose again.

Amazing love, how can it be,

that You, my king, would die for me?

Amazing love, I know it's true,

and it's my joy to honor You

in all I do, I honor You."

-You Are My King

"What can take a dying man
And raise him up to life again?
What can heal the wounded soul?
What can make us white as snow?
What can fill the emptiness?
What can mend our brokenness? Brokenness?

Mighty, awesome, wonderful,
is the Holy cross.
Where the Lamb lay down His life
to lift us from the fall.
Mighty is the power of the cross."

-Mighty Is The Power Of The Cross

"I Am Not ALONE."

Here are some truths about me:

-You will almost always find me around people. I love being in the presence of others.

-The thing I love to do most is make people laugh because I know the power of humor.

-My family and friends are wonderful, and I wouldn't trade them for the world.

-I value my relationship with Christ more than anything else in my life.

-I am outgoing, and I have confidence in myself and my abilities.

But what might surprise you after reading all of that is that I suffer from loneliness.

I know what you might be thinking: "This is a pity party, she has no clue what that is like. She has friends and family that she's lucky to have! She seems to be happy all the time. She's a Christian, so she shouldn't ever feel lonely. She should know God is always there." I'll answer this all: This is something that I would definitely rather not be sharing, so no sympathy is wanted. I do know what it is like. I am extremely lucky for the people I have. I can pretend to be happy if I see the need to. And even being a Christian, you can feel lonely, even when you know God is there. SOMEWHERE.

Throughout my life, I have had short periods of this feeling, the longest being four months a few years ago. I like solitude so I knew there was a difference between the peace I felt while I was alone and what I was feeling in those moments. For years, I was alone, but not lonely, and there is a difference. I can be on my own and be completely content, but then December of 2014 came, and that feeling has not left me. Something shifted in me, as if someone had pulled a rug from under my feet. Events in my life led me to feel unwanted, less than, and as if I wasn't special or important. And that's a place I hadn't ever thoroughly explored before, but little did I know just how in depth I would learn this new terrain.

As months went on, I unknowingly sunk further into this feeling. I didn't know it was still there until the situation that triggered it kept presenting itself in front of me, and then I realized I had a problem. At first, I thought it might be jealousy. Aspects of the situation caused thoughts of inadequacy so that made sense to me. But that wasn't the answer. Then I thought that it was betrayal, and maybe aspects of the situation were, but all of this was bringing light to the big picture. 

Last week, I finally came to terms with the fact that I am lonely. And that's a hard thing to admit because there is a certain amount of shame that comes with that word. It feels as if you're labeling yourself as needy, with low self-esteem, and an outcast. In reality, I am none of those things. Loneliness is not the lack of people surrounding you or of love in your life. Loneliness is a lack of understanding. You feel as though nobody can fully comprehend what you are saying or feeling. At some point, every human will feel that to some intensity if they haven't already. It's not something Christians are immune to; it's a human emotion.

What I've found to be the hardest is telling that to the people I love. It feels like you're telling them that they didn't love you enough to save you from this, and that is definitely not the case. During Sunday morning service, our church's drama team BASIC (which is composed of five of my friends and I) did a drama to "Break Every Chain." At the end of the song, we each rip a piece of paper that has a struggle on it. I had asked for us to write our own chains/problems on the paper so it was more personal, and Sunday, I had to make myself write what had been laid on my heart. I wrote "UNWANTED" and tried to hide it in the other papers nonchalantly. I obviously didn't want my friends to know I felt this way, but God wanted me to be honest with myself and the ones I love, so I couldn't pretend anymore. At the end of the song, I held up the paper with my grandparents in front of me, my aunts and uncles, my church family, my mom. That hurt. But the freedom I felt tearing that paper surpassed it.

In that moment, I knew that when I could finally claim it, victory would be mine. I knew more than ever that God never left, and I certainly was never alone. As I research on this more and more, I find that it's not unusual (thus I'm not lonely in feeling lonely). Even JESUS felt lonely: in the garden as His best friends underestimated His pain and the magnitude of the situation, in His daily life as nobody could ever comprehend what He knew and had seen, and on the cross when He sacrificed everything so we would never have to be alone, but with Him forever.

In conclusion: YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN FEELING LONELY. Nobody wants to admit they're hurt. Nobody wants to feel weak. I now understand that. Jesus himself understands that because He walked in it every single day of His life on Earth. I know with Him, I am not alone, and He is for me. Even in this emotion and this blind struggle, He is somehow guiding me through it all. He is helping me to find closure. To forgive. To let go. To trust in Him more than I previously ever had to. 

I find the PURPOSE of loneliness to be that in those moments, we learn to lean on Him instead of relying on our own strength and ability. When we have finally reached our lowest, we will turn to Him and that is when He can begin to make us whole and new. In our loneliness, we allow Him to speak to us like we usually wouldn't and to show us things that we usually would pass off as nonexistent in our lives. When we are vulnerable and find Him to be our closest friend and only hope, then He can work on us, hold us nearer, and show us just how deep His love for us really is. 

Though I walk through deep waters, I know that you will be with me.

I AM NOT ALONE.

"So We WAIT For You."

Am I the only person that wonders sometimes if their life is just going to be a consistent string of waiting for what's meant to be to happen?

I am a dreamer by nature. The unusual and seemingly impossible has never scared me, but has lead me to have an even deeper faith. I'm that person that quotes "EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON" because I honestly believe in the good and bad situations, there is purpose. If I didn't believe that, I would be a lot more scared and confused. Lately though, waiting has stumped me. Even someone who is as faithful as I am finds myself questioning why I'm still holding out for something when I don't even know what it is.

For years, I had a dream that I built my life around to the point where I didn't believe there was another way of life outside of it. It was extremely disappointing when that dream came crashing down on me recently. It felt like starting over completely. I had already waited years for the opportunity, and then now I'm having to wait even longer while I try to find a new path and dream to chase. That's difficult for a nineteen year old. Trying to reconstruct a life plan when they've literally had the same one for almost ten years. You don't even know a future outside of that hope anymore because that's what your vision of the future has become. Part of me is terrified because I don't even know where to start, and part of me is excited for that very same reason.

Now once I have accepted the fact that that portion of my life is over, I am still left with the question: WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF WAITING?

Honestly, I don't think there is a completely correct answer if one at all. All my mind can comprehend is that it's not the right time yet. Something grand is coming that our current selves just aren't prepared for. And that gives me hope somehow. There is something so incredible coming at the end of this that I wouldn't be able to handle the magnitude of it at this point in my journey. That's comforting to me. My God has something worth waiting for. Something worth holding out for.

On Sunday night, our church's youth choir (which myself and my three friends formed) premiered a new medley of songs which included "Even So Come." I led this song, and something about the words touched my soul as I sang. I spoke on how the song was about waiting for the return of our Lord, and not just waiting, but waiting with FAITH and HOPE that He will rescue us from our situations and eventually from this earth. Until the day comes that we're meant to be set free, we will wait with faith. Until the day that He returns to take us home, we will wait with faith. In the song, it simply states "We will wait, we will wait for you. God, we wait, you're coming soon." Such a simple statement, but in the midst of our storms, it can be hard to do. 

In conclusion, GOD I WAIT FOR YOU. Though I don't always understand the waiting, I understand there is purpose, and you have one whether I ever know it or not. I will have faith that you are doing what's best for me and setting me up to accomplish your will with my life. Even when I'm scared, confused, lost, and hurt, I will look to you for my answers, and if they haven't came yet, even so I will wait for them because I know they will come. Thank you for all the many dangers you have saved me from experiencing because of the waiting. Thank you for the pain you spared me of that would have came to be if I had been impatient. Thank you for holding out for me because you want me to have the very best even when I don't deserve it. Thank you for being my God and being right beside me in my waiting. Thank you for the waiting, and thank you for the joy I'll have when the wait in finally over.