Living Resolutely

I've Moved! (my blog)

2011-02-22T00:02:00.003-06:00

Well, that time has finally come. Blogspot has been good to me over the past 2 years but it's time to move on. I've officially moved over to WordPress and started a new blog entitled "Renewed Strength."

I'd love it if you hopped on over to check it out and continue to read!

Four-Year Old Faith

2011-01-31T11:05:00.003-06:00

There's nothing as beautiful as the simple faith of a child.

I read this post from my cousin on Facebook about her 4 year old at bedtime. My cousin is headed to Haiti soon on a missions trip.

At bedtime Koen hands me his old piggy (fishy) bank and says, "Here mom you can bring this to the kids in Haiti. They would like it." Then he hands me a stuffed animal that plays music and says, "And you can give this to one of the kids in Haiti. It will help them sleep good." Then he says, "Is that a good thing mom?" "Yes Koen that's a very good thing." Then we prayed for the people in Haiti that they will have food and not be sick. Koen prays that they will have a car. I told him that most of them don't have cars. He says, "They all have to walk to Rite Aid?" I had to laugh, so cute! Koen also told me he wants to go Haiti and build houses like his Uncle Jay. (And bring his tool belt.)

What if we all embraced opportunities like little Koen? Koen has no idea how terrible the situation in Haiti is, or that most are homeless, jobless, and unsure of where their next meal is coming from. He isn't overwhelmed with the situations in third world countries. He isn't convinced that one person cannot change the world. To him, it's simple. In Koen's world, a stuffed animal will make things better. Or a piggy bank. So he wants to give them to the children in Haiti.

I think too often we adults are overwhelmed at the "big picture": world hunger, poverty, sex-trafficking, homelessness. We see the big issues and convince ourselves we can't change the world.

Well, you can't change the entire world.
At least not in this very moment.
And definitely not on your own.

But a stuffed animal? A sweatshirt? A pair of shoes?

You can give that, right?

And that can change someone's world.

And changing someone's world is making a difference.

What can YOU do to change someone's world today?

But Moses' Hands Got Tired...

2011-01-24T12:00:00.009-06:00

"But Moses' hands got tired. So they got a stone and set it under him. He sat on it and Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on each side. So his hands remained steady until the sun went down."
Exodus 17:12, The Message

If you don't know this particular story in the Bible, let me give you a brief overview:

The Israelites went out to fight the Amalekites and, as long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning the battle. As soon as he lowered his hands, the Amalekites began to win. (see Exodus 17:9-11)

That's where we picked up the story. Aaron and Hur, who were with Moses, realized this and did everything in their power to assist Moses. They knew Moses could not do it alone. So they did it with him.

--

Let's rewind in my life about fourteen years to a time in my life maybe only a handful of you have ever heard about. I was raised in a Christian home, a loving family, and was surrounded by people of faith on a constant basis. Being as young as I was, I loved God mainly because the people around me did. To most people we were the perfect family: loving parents, two kids, and an unbelievable extended family that all lived next door.

On the outside, it was bright.
On the inside, we were stuck in an extremely dark, confusing time.

My mom had just been taken to the state hospital, where she was undergoing treatment for "chronic mental depression due to uncontrollable chemical imbalances."

At the time, I knew mom was sick and couldn't live with us.

The truth? She, completely outside of her control, sank into a depression that drove her into a state of confusion, sadness, and suicidal tendencies. She literally had lost her mind.

And it all happened out of nowhere. Mom had a great business, had just completed a playground project for my school, and was there every afternoon to pick us up from school.

Until one day, she didn't.

All I remember is Mom crying. A lot.
Dad slept in the doorway of their bedroom. Too often Mom would try to get up at night and "end the pain." So there he slept...
I just remember him being tired. Always tired.
Women from the church started staying at our house.
And then Mom closed her bakery.

Fast forward three months.
Mom's gone.
In the state hospital.
We had to walk those white walled halls and go through multiple locked doors just to see her.

I remember wondering who she was. She looked like my mom, but it wasn't her. My mom was never sad. My mom didn't cry. My mom laughed, a lot. I get my personality from her... she was always the light in a room. But she just sat there, wanting to hold my hand, and always spoke of how she was going to miss me when she was gone. I was nine, I didn't understand what she meant.

For months I ate homemade meals from church families, stayed with friends after school, and visited Mom in the place with white walls.

I can only imagine how tired Dad was.

Our house was covered with Bible verses, two in particular. He always told my brother and I to cling to them. Little did I know how desperately he was clinging to them himself.

Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength...
(Isaiah 40:31)

And we know all things work together for good for those that love God...
(Romans 8:28)

Dad was tired.
Knowing what I know now, tired doesn't even begin to cover it.
Dad was weary, weak, and in need of strength.

We went to church every Sunday with Dad, and, although I couldn't tell you a single thing that was preached from the pulpit during these times, one Sunday is permanently etched into my memory.

I was watching my Dad as he worshiped, and he raised his hands. Halfway through the song, Ronnie, our Evangelism pastor, came up behind him and helped hold his hands up. I remember wondering what Ronnie was doing, then later my dad told me the story of Moses, Aaron, and Hur. It was like God was saying, "You can't do this alone. Let me help. I know that you're weak. But you don't have to be."

The image is still alive in my mind.
And it came flooding back at church yesterday when Pete revisited this story.

Community is the way God confronts and redeems our desire to give up.

I have no idea how many times Dad wanted to give up. Personally? I never heard him say it once. But maybe he was ready to give up. Maybe his will, energy, and strength were all but gone.

But on that day, God confronted my dad and wouldn't let him.

Community was in the form of Ronnie, helping him hold his hands up.

--

Most of this I learned to understand later, due to several relapses my mom had throughout my childhood. Medically, I understood why Mom wasn't around each time a relapse occurred. Spiritually, all I knew was that we weren't alone.

All because of one moment.

My dad, too tired to hold up his hands.
And Ronnie, helping him hold them up.

--

*In case you were wondering, Mom is back to laughing, smiling, & is healthy now, and has been for 7 years.*

One Word.

2011-01-04T14:42:00.003-06:00

One word.

It really can't do much, right?

In a culture where verbose resolutions are made to be broken, maybe one word is all we need.

In case you haven't heard, several people have ditched their pattern of broken resolutions and picked up something simple. One word.

You can read about where it all began below.

Over the past couple of days I've tossed several words around trying to decide on what would not only fit what needs to be changed in my life, but what would also stretch and challenge me in ways I don't yet know.

Then, about five minutes ago, I realized none of those words completely encompassed all that I hope for and fear when I think about 2011. My word is an unknown secret to most and a lifelong quest for all.

My word?

Purpose.

Defined both as a noun and a verb indicates not only a static, tangible thing but also a dynamic, moving action.

Noun:
the reason for which something exists

an intended or desired result; end; aim; goal

determination; resoluteness

the subject in hand; the point at issue

Verb:

to set as an aim, intention, or goal for oneself

to intend; design

to resolve (to do something)

on purpose: by design; intentionally
to the purpose: relevant; to the point

Purpose and I have a history.

It's taunted me in my failings.
Covered its face in my searching.
Shown me glimpses of its shadow in the light.

But purpose still doesn't have a name.

To be honest, the word terrifies me. The definition alone screams my past failings and whispers my unknown future. To live the definition requires something beyond myself. Actually, it requires getting rid of myself completely. It requires me to live as I was intended to, resolutely and determined, and find the thing for which I was created.

No pressure, Christina.

And isn't it ironic my personal verse for 2011 falls into the exact same category.

I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.
Ephesians 4:1

Live a life worthy of your calling.

Talk about a new year's resolution.

So here's to 2011, a year in which I will resolve to do nothing but find my purpose, live with a purpose, and have a purpose in all I do.

Who knew one word could change so much.

A Year in Review: 2010

2010-12-31T10:58:00.004-06:00

Like so many people, I have spent my morning reflecting on what this past year has meant to me. I couldn't have imagined all that came my way, the successes I'd have and the tragedies I'd face.

--

No, this isn't a giant pat on the back to myself. What I accomplished and experienced was through merely the grace of God and, for some reason, he decided to bless me with incredible opportunities. May this post shine as a "My God is so good" post. May it point you to Him and not me.

--

There's no way I can ever say it all, so here's an understated summary of 2010:

I finally listened to God's call and joined a community group.

Weekly I was able to see what Biblical community looked like, and I lived it.

I learned that leading is merely serving, and serving is completely selfless.

I won a State Championship.

I sifted through photos of a family I had never met, trying to find at least one not destroyed by the flood.

I finally bought a Contributor.

I learned a homeless man's name, and told him mine.

I worked with NFL athletes.

I went on vacation with 13 people I didn't even know six months before.

I had the swine flu, pneumonia and bronchitis all at the same time... and survived.

I coached five volleyball teams and, for the first time in my career, had more wins than losses.

I shared some dark parts of my heart, and experienced love in spite of it.

I witnessed light shining into dark places.

I made some really dumb decisions, and a few really good ones.

I ran my first 5k.

I broke my foot.

I worked in a bakery, as a nanny, and a dog sitter in addition to my career endeavors.

I was forgiven.

I forgave.

I finally knew what it was like to have real friends.

I taught, and was taught.

Led, and followed.

I saw a flood devastate communities.

I saw hope overcome hopeless situations.

I told someone who Jesus was, while sitting in his flood-damaged house.

I learned how to love, and be loved in return.

I cried, a lot.

I witnessed miracles.

I saw people leave church barefoot in order than someone might have shoes.

I saw our brand new church turn into flood headquarters.

I saw someone put their last dollar in their car to have enough gas to get to our community group.

I saw needs met, hearts healed, and love poured out.

I found my home in Nashville.

I saw God make beautiful things out of broken, empty situations.

Now I have no idea what all will happen in 2011, but I do know that God is not yet finished with me. The year has potential of several changes, possible moves, and career changes but I know it's all in His hands. Regardless of what comes my way, God is faithful. He always has been. 2010 is proof of that. I've never had reason not to trust Him. And that is something worth trusting in.

Week 1: Acts

2010-12-08T22:17:00.005-06:00

For those of you who read my post last Wednesday, you know I've set out to read the Bible in the next sixty-six weeks (reading a book per week), and it all started with the book of Acts. With my first week complete of Project 66, there are some serious observations I made about myself and my commitment to the Word.

1. I couldn't tell you the last time I read the Bible every day, for seven days straight.

This breaks my heart to say this. As a leader, role model, and someone who people genuinely look to for advice and guidance, it's unbelievable to me how a basic principle in Christian faith has been missing for such a long time.

2. Reading the Word changes you.

No kidding. You are sitting there asking yourself, "Is she for real? Is she just now realizing this?" The answer is no. I've known the Word of God changes your life since it first changed mine at a young age. The reality is I've just been too selfish and lazy to take the time to allow it to these days. But, over the course of this past week, I have seen changes in my attitude, my speech, and my overall outlook on life. My priorities, different. My focus, changed. If seven days can do that, imagine what the next 455 days will look like. (Yes, I did the math just for you.)

3. Acts is an extraordinary book to start this journey on.

As many of you know, my community group at church has been digging into what an intentional, Biblical lifestyle would look like. It's a radical difference in comparison to today's modern church, but, when compared to the Bible, it is completely normal. To start this journey with Acts seems a little too perfect (well, my next pick followed suit..). Being challenged by what the church looked like from the start was eyeopening to say the least. There's no way I can summarize what reading Acts was for me here in a blog. All I know is that it was a perfect way to start not only challenging myself to read the Bible, but to live it.

And my next random draw?

Ephesians.

Good News

2010-12-07T21:26:00.013-06:00

'Tis the season.

I couldn't count how many times I say or hear this phrase these days.

Buying ridiculous things for ridiculous prices...
Eating extra desserts and skipping the gym...
Scheduling 6 different holiday parties...
...and ensuring you're exhausted until January 17... 'tis the season, right?

And then, there are the songs.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!
...parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting, and caroling out in the snow...

And we buy it, don't we?

If we get that great gift, or host that perfect party, it will be the absolutely most wonderful time of the year. The more people you're around, the more exhausted you are, the more successful the Christmas season will be.

Honestly? I can't argue with that. Starting this Friday I'm booked solid until I fly to visit my family (where I will, most definitely, be booked solid as well). Friday marked for me the beginning of the most wonderful time of the year.

Until my phone went off this morning. It was a dear friend of mine from college. Why she was texting me at 6am, I was rather curious.

"Can you pray for my family? My aunt and uncle were killed last night and my cousin is in critical care."

That's all the text read.

Still think it's the most wonderful time of the year?

Merry Christmas, an entire branch of her family is gone.
Killed.
What's worse?
It was a murder-suicide.

Her uncle shot his wife and daughter, then turned the gun on himself.

A unbelievably harsh reality during a season we all hope to use as an escape.

But let me plea with you. Just because it is Christmas, it is not automatically merry. Just because people smile and hum along with the songs played in Target, it does not mean they are jolly.

For many, Christmas is a reminder of just how dark their world really is.
For some, Christmas unveils the deepest hurts a person has experienced.

Just three days ago I received my friend's Christmas card and posted it on my fridge. We talked and I hoped to see her while I was back in Boston for Christmas.
Grab a cup of coffee.
Talk about life.
Get excited about all that's going on for each of us.

But now?
I want to rush to her house.
Embrace her.
Cry with her.
Ask God to give her comfort and strength in such a dark time.

A dark time?

But it's Christmas.

Today, people still bustled about.
Credit cards were swiped.
Holiday jingles played in every store.
Everyone around me went on with their day as if Christmas made them immune to life's cruelties.

But life doesn't take a holiday.
Usually, it gets a little darker, sharper, and little more lonely this time of year.

Tonight at a coffee shop I heard "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" at least three times. It took all I had within me to not burst into tears in the middle of Barnes & Noble.

No, it's not.
It is not the most wonderful time of the year.
Not for my friend, for her family, or for her cousin that is struggling to survive in ICU. Even if she wakes up, her father tried to kill her and succeeded in killing her mom and himself.

But the cruel reality?
This isn't the only death that will take place this Christmas.
This isn't the only family that will feel heartbreak and confusion while others skip about through stores.
This isn't the only dark moment in what is supposedly the brightest of times.

But, the good news?
Yes, exactly.

The good news.

The good news is that Christmas has nothing to do with feeling jolly, or seasonal lattes, jewelry, big screen TVs, and a new Lexus.
It has nothing to do with the material craze we obsess over on Black Friday.
It has absolutely nothing to do with how many presents you can get or give away.

No, the good news is that although we are desperate, we are given hope.
The good news is that humanity has always been desperate, and God gave us a way out.
The good news is that God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son.
The good news is the reason we celebrate.

Jesus.
He is the Good News.

--

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them and they were terrified. But the angel said to them,

"Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on who his favor rests."

Luke 2:8:-14

--

So, whether you're familiar with the story or not, let me encourage you to dig into the Good News this Christmas season. It's a story with hope for the hopeless, light for those in darkness, and truth for those desperately in need. A Savior was born. A light was shone. Be encouraged this Christmas, for there is Good News.

Project 66

2010-12-01T11:54:00.003-06:00

Reading the Bible.

From the first day of "becoming a Christian" I was told to read the Bible.
Root myself in the Word.
Stand on the Lord's promises.
Day one I knew the Bible was rather important.

And although I could spout off Bible knowledge and memorized verses to you, my commitment to reading the Word is shaky. I don't get up every morning and read it. I'd rather spend my time reading Max Lucado and C.S. Lewis books... but the Bible?

Pardon me as I yawn.

My faith is of utmost importance to me. It has been my foundation since I was little. God has been faithful through the most trying of times, and through everything I have learned that committing my life to Him and living it out in such a way that people see Him through me is worth it.

Go on missions trips to share the Gospel? Yes.
Lead worship? You got it.
Start an FCA chapter in college? Done.
Be a community group leader and challenge others to grow in their faith? I love it.
But wake up in the morning and spend some time in the Word? ...maybe tomorrow.

It is baffling to me that I am so incredibly unfaithful in the little things. So many days I sit and wonder what my life would be like if I would have just committed to being rooted in the Word.

What if I spent time with Him daily?
Who could I have impacted if my focus was on eternity?
How would my life be different if I understood the character of God a little more?

But I'm done asking questions.

The other day, my friend Kenlyn started a blog called Project 66. It is a challenge she has placed on herself to commit to reading the Bible in the span of 66 weeks (due to the 66 books of the Bible). She put all the names of the books of the Bible on separate cards and will draw, at random, a new book every week to study.

The moment I read her post, I knew I had to do it as well. I quickly texted her, asked her blessing to spread the challenge to others, and prepared for my own Project 66 to start.

My Project 66 will last December 1 (2010) - March 6 (2012). Not only will I dig in to the Bible, but I will also blog about each book weekly. I encourage you to not only follow along with my progress but also along with Kenlyn's. Her blog can be found here.

So, today starts week one of my journey into rooting myself in the Word of God.

My first draw?

The Book of Acts.

This is going to be good.

Champs, Travel, & Christmas

2010-11-05T13:43:00.004-05:00

I thought today was perfect to do something a little different here on the blog. Typically, I focus on the spiritual side of my life, what we're digging into at Stretch, Cross Point, or within my own personal one on one time with the Lord.

Those things are great, and trust me, you may get way more out of those posts than this one. But today, I feel like I just need to share my excitement with you all.

Lately, life has been good. And the next two months are looking at being just as great. So I thought today I would selfishly use my blog to share my excitement!

First - on October 29, 2010 my Ravenwood Raptor Volleyball girls won the Tennessee Division 1 AAA State Championship! This is highest, biggest division in the state, and still, one week later, I cannot believe we did it! I am so unbelievably proud of them and honored to be on the coaching staff. Proud of you girls!!!

Not much can top that, but we'll see how these next two months pan out.

This weekend marks the beginning of the new volleyball club here in Nashville, Club West Nashville. Club West is a volleyball namesake in California, known for having some of the best training and volleyball players in the country. The great news? One of my best friends in the volleyball world is the one planting it here! I'm on staff as the 12U National coach. Twelve year olds! I cannot wait to teach and share my love for the game with the youngest players we have. What an opportunity!

Next weekend I will be traveling with some of my best friends to the beautiful Smoky Mountains for a mini-vacation. So many of us have had hectic schedules this fall, and it just couldn't come at a better time! Seriously cannot wait to spend 4 days in the woods with these people. What a blessing it is to have great people in my life!

The next weekend after that, my best friend from home is flying in for her week long vacation and we're heading to Cocoa Beach and Orlando, Florida for Thanksgiving. My high school volleyball coaches live there now and lucky for me, it's only a half day's drive! Sun, Disney, volleyball, and Thanksgiving with my second family. Perfect!

Christmas in New Hampshire! Then, of course, it's time for walking in winter wonderlands, sleigh bells, and roasting [marshmallows] on an open fire. Yes, I'll be dreaming of a white Christmas and I'll get it! Because I'll be home for Christmas!

Oh, and in between it all, I'll be seeing shows such as Needtobreathe, Dave Barnes, Tyler Hilton, Brooke Frasier.

Again, I think this year's end is looking pretty.
[Minus the certification tests, and grad school finals staring me in the face. But we're not thinking about that today! ;) ]

Counting the Cost

2010-10-26T12:17:00.003-05:00

Too often we have been told that becoming a Christian is as simple as saying a prayer to ask Jesus into our hearts. For me, this happened at the age of 4. Jesus coming into my heart was explained as an unbelievably joyous time that all will be better because He now resides there. Nobody told me that when He "moved in" He was going to completely and utterly change the landscape of not only my heart, but of my entire being. I no longer could be the me I so carefully planned to be. I understand that the Kindergarten "altar call" I heard wouldn't have gone over well if Mrs. Burke had said, "I hope you know your life as you know it is now completely over!"

But in all reality, wasn't it?

Jesus tells us to die to self, carry a cross, sell all we have, and follow Him. As a 4 year old (and honestly, as a 23 year old), that's not in the personal game plan. If I truly let Jesus in (whether that had been in Kindergarten or now in my twenties), my life is completely over.

But for some reason, we aren't told that when we are given the "good news." Evangelists and pastors today tend to be so focused on numbers rather than on true transformation (but that's a topic for later discussion), that we have constantly been told that with Jesus there is joy, hope, and peace in such a dark, hopeless world. Not that I don't agree, because with Him does come the truest form of joy, hope, and peace, but how dare we leave out the true cost of Christianity: transformation. And here in the South is the worst. Never have I met more Christians who love a Jesus that will make them more prosperous, more blessed, and more comfortable. In all honesty, I am unsure of what Jesus they are following.

Transformation is not comfortable. Change is not pleasant. Yet Jesus, the Jesus of the Bible, calls us to change, live a transformational life, and be not of this world. I'm unsure if most Christians have been challenged to count the cost. This Jesus might ask everything of them.

When it comes to "counting the cost," few articulate it better than C.S. Lewis.

Here are a few excerpts from C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity:

I find a good many people have been bothered by what I said about Our Lord's words, ''Be ye perfect". Some people seem to think this means "Unless you are perfect, I will not help you", and as we cannot be perfect, then, if He meant that, our position is hopeless. But I do not think He did mean that. I think He meant "The only help I will give is help to become perfect. You may want something less: but I will give you nothing less."

If you give Him an inch, He will take an ell. Dozens of people go to Him to be cured of some one particular sin which they are ashamed of or which is obviously spoiling daily life. Well, He will cure it all right: but He will not stop there. That may be all you asked; but if once you call Him in, He will give you the full treatment. That is why He warned people to "count the cost'' before becoming Christians. "Make no mistake," He says, "if you let me in, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand I am going to see this job through."

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of- throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.

The command "Be ye perfect" is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said (in the Bible) that we were 'gods' and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him- for we can prevent Him, if we choose- He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful, but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said.

Some of us may have been fed the idea that once a Christian, life gets easy. Or once a Christian, everything straightens out. We could sit together for days telling stories of how that is absolutely not true. Once a Christian, though, something very specific takes place: God intends to transform us. Asking Jesus into our heart might not be as Sunday-school fun as we so often paint it out to be. Jesus comes in to shake our foundation, knock walls down, and completely rebuild us. He says "be perfect" and then shows us how. He intends to change us, to make us able to be perfect.

Christianity is not always as feel-good as many sugar coat it to be: but oh, it is worth it. Living a Christian life is as simple as this: allowing Christ into our lives to rip apart and break down all that we have built ourselves to be, and then rebuild us in His likeness.

Painful? Definitely.
Completely and utterly life-changing? You bet.
Worth it? Absolutely.

So take a second and count the cost.
Because He intends to make you perfect.

Matthew 5:48
"Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

Safe with the Shepherd

2010-10-04T10:07:00.010-05:00

Unrest.
We've all felt it.
You're probably feeling it this very moment.
Unsettled. Worried. Nervous. Anxious.

You want security. Peace. Comfort.

You've searched in all the wrong places and found one constant: it never satisfies.

Let me share with you what does. (And let me open with words from author Max Lucado - he tends to articulate best what is tugging on our hearts):

Come with me to the most populated prison in the world. The facility has more inmates than bunks. More prisoners than plates. More residents than resources. Come with me to the world's most oppressive prison. Just ask the inmates; they will tell you. They are overworked and underfed. Their walls are bare and bunks are hard. No prison is so populated, no prison so oppressive, and, what's more, no prison is so permanent. Most inmates never leave. They never escape. They never get released. They serve a life sentence in this overcrowded, underprovisioned facility.

The name of the prison? You'll see it over the entrance. Rainbowed over the gate are four cast-iron letters that spell out its name:

W-A-N-T.

The prison of want. You've seen her prisoners. They are "in want." The want something. They want something bigger. Nicer. Faster. Thinner. They want. They don't want much, mind you. They want just one thing. One new job. One new car. One new house. One new spouse. They don't want much. They want just one. And when they have "one," they will be happy. And they are right- they will be happy. When they have "one," they will leave the prison. But then it happens. The new-car small passes. The new job gets old. The neighbors buy a larger television set. The new spouse has bad habits. The sizzle fizzles, and before you know it, another ex-con breaks parole and returns to jail.

Are you in prison? You are if you feel better when you have more and worse when you have less. You are if joy is one delivery away, one transfer away, one award away, or one makeover away. If your happiness comes from something you deposit, drive, drink, or digest, then face it - you are in prison, the prison of want.

That's the bad news. The good news is, you have a visitor. And your visitor has a message that can get you paroled. Make your way to the receiving room. Take your seat in the chair, and look across the table at the psalmist David. He motions for you to lean forward.

"I have a secret to tell you," he whispers, "the secret of satisfaction. 'The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want"(Psalm 23:1).

David has found the pasture where discontent goes to die. It's as if he is saying, "What I have in God is greater than what I don't have in life." You think you and I could learn to say the same?

So, are you in prison? Are you ready to get out?

Are you ready to be rid of discontent?

It all begins in Psalm 23. As Lucado pointed at, it's as simple as this:

The LORD is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

So let me pose this question: is He your shepherd?

Before we can discuss the green pastures you lie in, the quiet waters He leads you by, or the fact that your cup can overflow, we must first establish whether or not He is your Shepherd.

Because if the LORD is your Shepherd, you shall not be in want.

If He is our Shepherd, we know His voice.
If He is our Shepherd, we have peace.
If He is our Shepherd, we have security.
If He is our Shepherd, we don't have to look elsewhere for anything.
If He is our Shepherd, we are not in want.
We are safe with the Shepherd.

Is someone posing as a shepherd in your life? If you are feeling unrest, I can bargain you are. If you're hoping for the next best thing in life to finally fill that need, I can see the signs. What have you let become your shepherd? What voice are you listening to most? What voice do you know better than any other? Is His voice the one you hear, listen to, and are comforted by?

Is He your shepherd?

If not, what is?

It's time to stop listening to the other voices more often. It's time to stop immersing yourself in the lies of our culture, your jobs, and the people around you. It's time for you to realize you will never be filled by them. Nothing on this earth can satisfy you. Nothing. It's time for you to realize you are safe. Safe with the Shepherd.

But realizing it is only the first step. Action must be taken. Change must take place.

So, how does He become your Shepherd?

He becomes your shepherd once you know Him better than all the posers and empty promises you've let lead you. He becomes your shepherd once you listen to His voice more than the shouting lies you've been convinced by your entire life. He becomes your shepherd when you study His character. When you know His tendencies. When you know His story. And he becomes your shepherd when you sit at His feet.

So go ahead.
Lie down.
Rest.
Be carefree.
Be safe.

Just like a sheep at the feet of its shepherd.

Approval Addicts: Where's My Husband?

2010-10-01T11:39:00.002-05:00

Today's post is written by a friend of mine, Sari Casper. Like the others who've shared their stories this week, Sari is in my young adult "small group" at Cross Point and has been digging into the issue of idols, empty promises, and searching for approval in all the wrong places.

--

In who or in what do you find your approval? Will you feel accepted once you reach your goal weight, find the “one” that pledges to love you forever, be in the “in crowd”, or maybe land the perfect job? And what happens if none of those things ever occur? Do we feel worthless, and undeserving of anything good in life? This is a tough topic to discuss when you realize YOU are guilty of searching for acceptance in all the wrong places.

Being in my mid twenties I often find myself thinking about my future husband. When am I going to meet him, why haven’t I met him yet, what am I doing wrong God, oh he looks cute maybe he’s the one, and so forth and so on. God created man and woman to be together as one so it only makes sense that I would like to get married someday…preferably soon. But is it really an innate desire I’m aching for or a desire that will make me finally feel like I’ve made it in this world? I’ll finally have a man who thinks I’m beautiful just the way I am, a man who wants me and only me, a man who thinks I’m absolutely perfect and wouldn’t change a thing about me if he could.

What happened between the time I was a child and where I am now? What happened to the unconditional love I received from my parents and the lessons about how much God loves me and that His love is sufficient enough? Why must we chase after the approval of others in order to feel like we have meaning in our lives?

I can’t answer these questions because I’m struggling with them myself. The only thing I know is that every time I find myself asking God why he hasn’t given me a husband yet, I only hear Him asking me “Why aren’t I enough?”

He’s not enough because I don’t know Him like I’ll know my husband. I don’t know Him like I know my friends who I’m seeking approval from. His approval means nothing because He’s not a constant in my life. Sure I know in my head that He loves me and that’s all that matters, but in my heart it’s a different story.

So where do I go from here? How do I get to that point where He is enough, where my value comes from Him and Him alone? It starts with the basics of a relationship. It’s easy to find your value from others because you see them, you talk to them and you know what it takes to fit in with them. Imagine if I knew Jesus like I know my best friends? Imagine the absolute, unending love I would find in just being me.

So that is my desire. To know Jesus as if He were right here watching my favorite tv show with me. I want Him to be my best friend. Perhaps then I won’t be worried about whether I’ll ever get married or ever reach my goal weight. It won’t matter because I’ll have all the love and approval I’ll ever need from the only one who can truly make me feel complete.

So you thought you had to keep this up
All the work that you do
So we think that you're good

And you can't believe it's not enough
All the walls you built up
Are just glass on the outside

So let 'em fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now

This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark

Afraid to let your secrets out
Everything that you hide
Can come crashing through the door now
But too scared to face all your fear
So you hide but you find
That the shame won't disappear

Sparks will fly as grace collides
With the dark inside of us
So please don't fight
This coming light
Let this blood come cover us

His blood can cover us

…….
Tenth Avenue North

Approval Addicts: I Wasn't Skinny Enough

2010-09-30T10:34:00.002-05:00

In my life- in ministry, work, and friendships- the one commonality I have found among woman is simple: we're insecure. Take even the most successful, attractive women in your life and more often than not you'll find that their size, weight, nose, or hips drives them insane. Some, it eats them alive. And men, you're not exempt either, are you?

But in the theme of "Approval Addicts", the topic of looks and that particular insecurity continually creeps up. People would really love me if I look like her... And yet, we sweep it under the rug and go on with our day as if nothing is wrong.

I'm guilty of it. It's a large part of my addiction story.

And it's a big part of Amy's. Here's her story, in her own words:

--

Growing up I had the stereotypical "perfect family." My parents were extremely involved in our lives, my brother and I were closer than most (mainly out of necessity because of moving so often,) we were involved in sports, clubs, theater, music, pretty much anything you could think of. We were that "go to" family when things needed to get done. So, it would seem we were supportive, caring, nurturing, etc...We loved everyone, they loved us, and we loved each other.

I can't remember a day since I was 12 when the topic of my weight didn't come up, though. Even when I was at my smallest I was told I could keep losing and it wasn't enough. My daily routine consisted of waking up at 4am to measure out my food to bring to school, head to swim practice for a couple hours, eat a banana on the bus from the pool to school, class, eat my measured out (to the calorie) lunch, finish classes, go straight to play rehearsals/choir/church, go home, eat my special dinners while the rest of the family could eat whatever and how much of whatever they wanted, homework, bed and then it would start all over again the next day.

Sometimes my parents hired personal trainers for me and squished them in after whatever afterschool activity I was in at the time. My life revolved around controlling my weight and I didn't mind because at least when I was working out my hardest I didn't have to hear about it.

My mom is 5'4'', was 90lbs when she got married and has no idea how hard it is for me. My dad gave me these genes. I look just like the women in his family. The men however, don't have this problem. I don't want you to get this wrong though, my parents love me. They love me more than anything in this world. I just don't think they knew how to approach it. Instead of taking the "concerned about your health" route, they used the "you don't want to look like your cousins" which in my mind, because of hearing it all the time, I felt like I already did and needed to lose weight so I didn't anymore.

When I went off to college and didn't have to see them every day I started splurging. Over the years I've gained a little, then a little more, and a little more, and here I am about 50lbs more than I was when I started college.

Does it kill me every day? Yes.
Do I realize I was born this way? Yes.
Does the fact that God gave me these genes give me any comfort? Not at all.

I know I can't expect him to fix it. I have to do it myself but sometimes the hardest thing in life is to look at your whole family and realize you're the fat kid. Every single member of my family has said something to me about it. I'm fearful every moment I'm with them that they're going to bring it up because I'm just so tired of hearing it. My dad works out in Egypt at the moment and every email I get from my dad has something about "how's the diet going?" "have you lost any weight?" "still doing kickboxing?" and it breaks my heart.

I'll get it all under control one day but I guess my biggest issue and why I've somewhat been a serial dater is because of my wanting to feel pretty. I want someone to tell me I'm beautiful and perfect just the way I am. That's what every girl wants.

--

Amy's story resonates with so many of ours, doesn't it? Great parents, great family, but that one thing was never right. Or maybe it was a boyfriend who made you feel inadequate, not pretty enough, left you for someone else. Or maybe, the culprit is you. You've convinced yourself you'll never be skinny enough, pretty enough, loved enough... so you work out harder, eat less, and become so consumed with your appearance.

Maybe then you'll find the approval you've been looking for.

But might I remind you, and encourage you with this:

You were fearfully and wonderfully made. God loves you for who you are, because He formed you Himself. So go to Him, sit at His feet, and feel the love and approval of the King.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
Matthew 11:28

Approval Addicts: What YOU Think Matters

2010-09-29T10:33:00.002-05:00

If you had the chance to read yesterday's post, you now understand what I mean about my friends and I getting real about such an extremely serious topic. We're tired of being tired, exhausted of pretending we love everything about ourselves, and desperate to shine light in the deepest corners of our hearts.

Yesterday, Maryanne shared part of her story, and her struggle to love herself.

Today, it's Keisha's turn.

--

I grew up in a wonderful loving home. My parents never made me feel like I wasn't loved or good enough in anyway. They still are beyond encouraging and uplifting. I had an older brother who was outgoing, fun, got straight A's in school, everybody loved Kyle. Growing up I always looked up to him, I wanted to be just like him, but I could never quite get there (maybe because I wasn't him! I was me, but I didn't like me, so I desperately wanted to be like him). I was quiet, reserved, beyond shy. It was crippling, I didn't want anyone to notice me because I didn't want them to realize I wasn't worth their time. I was constantly intimidated by everyone around me. I always thought they were so much better than me, that they had what I didn't, and there was no reason they would want to be around me. I missed out on opportunities because I was afraid of what those around me would think of me. So I just sat on the sidelines.

As I got older and into high school it got better. I went to a fairly small Christian school so it was easier for me to be myself, my classmates became my family. But to anyone outside those school doors I hid myself.

I had a defense mechanism. When someone wanted to get to know me, wanted to be my friend, even a boy I was "interested" in, I would act like I couldn't care less. Like nothing they did affected me one way or the other, because if I didn't care, I couldn't get hurt when they realized I wasn't worth it. In doing this I drove so many people away. I missed out of relationships and people who could have been such a blessing in my life because I didn't want to let them in, while inside I was desperately crying out for them to like me, to see past it all and work to break through.

I have so many regrets in regards to this, so many "what if's" because I was afraid of what they would think if they saw the real me. Anytime a good guy would be interested in me I would ask "Why in the world does he like me? I don't get it." So then I would shut down, and push him away. When it didn't work out I would always tell myself "See, he just didn't know you yet, that's why he liked you. As soon as he saw the real you, he saw what you really are. Not enough." I still struggle with this so much. I don't do things I really want to do because I am afraid of what everyone else will think of me, or I don't want to make a fool out of myself.

Around this time is when "looks" started to become a part of it. I felt like I HAD to look a certain way all the time, I mean ALL the time. That way, maybe people would just see that part and not notice I wasn't any fun, or didn't have the right personality. It started to consume me too, I was always worrying about how I looked because if that fell through what did I have? (even though I still didn't believe I ever looked good enough either. I still hated most of the things about how I looked). So I was always longing for someone to tell me I was pretty, or dressed cute, or something- anything to affirm that I was at least getting one thing right.

Even though I feel like I am getting better at letting people in I don't worry any less about what they think of me. I still desperately need their approval to feel ok about myself. But having a community to walk through, wrestle and beat this with makes the journey ahead seem much more doable. I know God hates this, he wants to heal it, and he's not going to let me ignore it anymore. So here we go, it's finally time for a real change.

--

What about you? Isn't it time for a real change? Don't let what secretly eats you alive have power over you any more.

Cast your cares on Him. He can be trusted. And you can be free.

Don't you want to be free?

Approval Addicts: Because I Don't Love Myself

2010-09-28T14:54:00.003-05:00

When it comes to seeking approval, most people assume its due to a lack of love in one's life. But for some, the amount of love in their lives has nothing to do with their addiction to approval. Sometimes they become so destructive to themselves that the only way to survive is to hear it from others.

This is the case for Maryanne, a young woman who is so near and dear to my heart. Although we've only known each other for a few months, I know one thing for certain: she is a beautiful, gifted, and talented girl who God blessed with quite possibly the greatest sense of humor.

What's shocking, though, is that she struggles daily to believe that to be true.

Here's Maryanne's story, in her own words:

--

Let's be honest, here. The truth? I can't be by myself because I hate myself. I seek acceptance from friendships and people - I want them to like me because I don't like myself. I've spent years turning hatred for myself into an art form. When someone gives me a compliment, I accept them, thank the person, but what's worse is I take what they said and twist their genuine meaning and heartfelt words into dark, molasses-covered hate - turning them over and over until they turn into sticky, sludge-drenched words. Over time, these words have formed a swamp of what used to be my heart. A swamp that I choose to walk through daily, even though I don't have to. You're ugly. You're stupid. You're fat. You're not good enough. No man will ever love you. My heart has become a daily, repeating broken-record hell of my own making. It's no wonder I never feel close to God. I've become trapped in a hell of my own making, and I'm not sure how to get out.

Those are some ugly words that I've never said in my head, let alone out loud. I've swept them under a rug, closed the door to that room and piled barricades in front of it. My secret shame that I've practiced for well over a decade of my life. I pour into others not for their approval necessarily, but instead hoping that the love I give them will somehow bounce back to me, shine on me, fulfill me. But still I am empty.

I felt like Pete's sermon finally gave me permission to stop the treadmill of self-hatred I've been running on. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in years. As extroverted as my personality appears, there is so much I internalize, so I stopped today. I have sat alone with myself for hours, something I have never done in my adult life. I haven't drowned out my thoughts with television, music, or distraction. I called my mom and admitted my self-hate, something my parents have watched me battle for years. I asked a friend from Stretch to pray for me instead of hiding behind my shame. I talked to God honestly for the first time in years.

I am nowhere near "fixed", yet. In fact, I won't be for a long time. I can't imagine beginning to erase or replace things I have convinced myself of since I was a child. And on top of that, there is something I'm struggling with that I can't yet admit to many of my friends. But Sunday night, as we closed with worship, I couldn't help but hear these questions ring in my ears:

What if I let Him in?

What if I was enough?

What if I let Him love me?

What if I let myself love Him?

And probably the loudest: What if I started loving myself?

What if? What would I possibly have to lose?

It's a start. It's a step. It's time to push aside the barricades and let in the light.

In my love, be lifted high...

--

As I heard Maryanne's story, my heart broke. Not only because a beautiful, gifted daughter of the King has spent her life believing lies and darkness, but because I can only imagine how many of us do the same thing to ourselves on a daily basis.

But in Maryanne's courage of opening up, she has done the most liberating action any one of us can do: shed light in a dark place. Darkness cannot exist in light, and the moment we realize we can conquer our fears, insecurities, and sins by the mere act of letting light in is the moment we are set free.

Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.
1 Peter 5:7

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you.
Psalm 55:22

So what is your story? What dark, cobwebbed corner of your heart needs a little light?

Let the darkness flee... It's got no power over me...

Addiction: Approval

2010-09-27T11:48:00.005-05:00

"After Pete's message yesterday, I woke up with conviction, perspective, and a black eye from being sucker-punched."

"Mediocrity. Exhaustion. Guilt/shame. Rejection. These are the things that I'm calling myself out on for the first time ever this morning."

"Starting to process and wrestle with the message from Pete yesterday with a heavy and hopeful heart."

"I have NEVER been more wrecked in my life than tonight at church. Pete Wilson's message opened a door in my heart I've kept closed for over a decade."

Monday mornings are hard for the majority of us. A long weekend of relaxation turns into the dreaded sound of the alarm. Mondays require an extra cup of coffee, an extra jolt of "I can do this", and a couple hundred additional glances at the clock.

Mondays are hard.

But lately, for those of us at Cross Point, Mondays have been terribly painful.

We are in the middle of the "Empty Promises" series at Cross Point, with yesterday's message focusing on the "Addiction to Approval." At the top of this post are just a few Tweets from some of my fellow group members regarding the message yesterday. As you can tell, we woke up in pain due to the utter slap in the face we so nicely received from Pastor Pete.

Thanks, Pete.

Over the next couple days I'm going to be posting with the reactions of people from my community group (not all 150 of them, I promise). This message was real. The message was painful, intense, and completely shattering. But I can only write so much about my own story. So my friends are going to share theirs. And in doing so, I pray you will be able to face up to yours.

You can listen to the message at our church's website. Or read some notes on it from Pete himself. Or check back here daily for different takes and reactions to the message.

But let me warn you, most of these people walked into church yesterday assuming they already knew the main idol in their life, that the one thing in contention with the Lord for their heart was already discovered. Yet they left broken, in tears, and hopeful that through the strength of Christ, they can be renewed. So let me warn you - life change has happened here.

We are tired. Exhausted. Empty.

Because the applause of others never fills.

Hurt. Anxious. Needy.

Because putting our hope in people always fails.

Searching. Seeking. Self-destructing.

Because the One who can fill us has been the last person we've gone to for approval.

Are you an approval-addict?

I am.

But luckily I'm not alone.

The Seduction of Achievement

2010-09-21T12:19:00.002-05:00

Denver Broncos wide receiver Kenny McKinley was found dead in his apartment yesterday in an apparent suicide. A second year player in the NFL, McKinley had a promising future in professional football but was sidelined with a knee injury for the beginning of this year. As a college player, McKinley knew plenty about success, achievement and the approval of others, being a star wide receiver at the University of South Carolina. He remains the all-time leader in receptions at South Carolina, and was one of the best receivers in the SEC back in 2007. If anyone had a great and promising future due to previous success, it was McKinley.

On the outside everything looked perfect, but on the inside something was apparently missing. I don't know the reason Kenny McKinley took his own life yesterday, and I'm not going to speculate, but I do know that its a clear example of the seduction of achievement and the empty promise it whispers.

At both church and in my small group, the past two weeks we've spent discussing the issue of idols and what most rivals God's role in our lives. As we settled in on the idol of achievement and success, it became apparent many of us have been duped into believing that the grass is definitely greener on the "more successful" side of the fence.

Let me remind you, it is not.

The moment you take a God-given gift, whether it be a talent, job, or opportunity, and place it in a role to fulfill you, you begin to tread on dangerous grounds. Success is a seductress, convincing you a pat on the back, a new title, or a pay raise will fill that gaping hole in your chest.

Let me tell you again, it will not.

In the book of John, Jesus reminds the people of this, that only through Him will this hunger and thirst for more be permanently filled. He says (v.35-36),

"I am the bread of life, He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe."

In Matthew, he says again that only in Him can we find rest.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls (v28-29)."

Rest for your souls.

Isn't that what we're really looking for anyway? Maybe will that new job, or that new car, or those new friends I will finally feel fulfilled, rested, worthy. If we're honest, isn't that really the lure of success? To have it all? But a rested soul... that is the key. And we know exactly how to find it. Jesus says it plain and simple, "Come to me."

So what does that look like? The Psalmist paints an incredible picture of what resting in the Lord looks like in chapter 23.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores me soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

No striving. No seeking approval. Just rest, comfort, and safety.

A restored soul.

So let me encourage you today to stop striving. Stop comparing yourself to others who "have it all." Stop seeking fulfillment from something that only God can provide. Rest in Him. Let him restore you, define you, and love you for who you are... not what you've done.

Empty Promises

2010-09-15T12:58:00.002-05:00

"If you lose the weight, you'll finally be happy."

"Change your hair and clothes and he'll finally love you."

"Take this promotion, it'll make you feel accomplished."

"Work 60 hours a week, buy that new car, and live the life you've always dreamed of."

"Love is all you'll ever need."

"Skinny people are happier."

"Rich people are more fulfilled."

"Married people have a brighter outlook on life."

All these promises have one thing in common... they're empty.

Maybe you've believed them. You've probably gone to lengths you never thought you would to accomplish them. Finally got skinny. Married that perfect man. Took the job promotion that in turn took over your life. Then, when everything was supposed to change, it didn't. Sure you got a new wardrobe. Maybe even some new friends. That new car looks perfect in your driveway. But that hole in your heart just won't go away. So try something new. Read a new magazine. Organize your house, organize your life. All will be fixed in no time. New diet, new jeans. Feeling good doesn't last for long... because it's external.

We've started a new series at Cross Point entitled "Empty Promises."

We've all been told them.

We continually believe them.

Time after time we realize they're dead ends.

And still, we search.

We strive to feel complete.

We starve to fit into jeans.

We serve more to feel more appreciated.

We work our hardest to feel our best.

And we're exhausted.

Because we're empty.

Over the course of the next month, I'll be digging into some promises I've believed that turned up empty. I'll share some of my friends' stories too. But for now, check out this video for our 5 week series - Empty Promises.

Empty Promises Trailer from Cross Point Church on Vimeo.

What promises have turned up empty for you?

The "Call" to Missions

2010-09-06T09:24:00.003-05:00

I often tell people that the times I felt most alive were when I was on the mission field.

Whether it was singing Christmas carols at the local nursing home, ministering to the homeless on the streets of New York City, or leading worship at the U.S. Army base in Heidelberg, Germany, through each experience [no matter how uncomfortable I was] I was able to sit back and honestly say: "This is what I was made for."

I grew up in a church committed to missions, and attended a Christian school that fostered an evangelism program. The opportunities were there and, once involved, I had several people playing the name game when it came to my specific "calling" as a Christian.

Since moving to Nashville one year ago, I have attended Cross Point Church. Over the past few weeks we've been diving into who we are as a church and where we are going: our DNA.

We at Crosspoint are...

...radically devoted to Christ,

...irrevocably committed to one another,

...and relentlessly dedicated to reaching the lost.

Relentlessly dedicated to reaching the lost. To most church-goers that probably just sounds like Crosspoint has an intense missions program. But let's get one thing straight, reaching the lost isn't a program at Crosspoint; it's the reason Crosspoint exists.

When our Pastor, Pete Wilson, spoke on reaching the lost last week, he gave some intense statistics on poverty, sex trafficking, child hunger (and their deaths because of it), and other sick, jacked up issues that are going on this very moment in our world. I could go through all the numbers Pete gave (you can find them here), but honestly, it would be a waste of my time. Let me explain.

Those preventable statistics of disease, hopelessness, rape, hunger, etc won't do a thing to your head or your heart until you're convinced of one thing: it is not about you. For most of you, the life you live has been conveniently tailored to your comfort, your interests, and your happiness. You go to a church you like, listen to a preacher you agree with, and sit next to people you get along with. Your faith may be strong, but its in a God that has blessed you with a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a dog. The life you're living from now until eternity is being wasted... on you.

Let's be clear: The "space between" the moment you accept Christ to the moment your time on earth is finished is not about you. It's not about me. If all that mattered was eternal security with God in Heaven, why would we have to live this life at all?

You've been duped into believing that this life is about you, your own personal God, and the beautiful blessings He showers you with. So have I. My schedule shows it. My Facebook and Twitter show it. How I spend my money, my time, and my thoughts show it. I think it's all about me. And guess what, so do you.

As Christians we strive to become more Christlike. That's the goal, right? But there's more.

The transformation we experience as Christ followers is for the sole purpose to change the world. If we do anything less with this life we not only sell ourselves short but end up making this life all about ourselves. (P.Wilson)

More simply put:

If you don't live like you believe your life was created to impact the world, you will miss the point of salvation and sanctification.
-Pete Wilson

You will miss the point.

Matthew 28:19 - "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations."

Mark 16:15 - "He said to them, 'Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.'"

Acts 1:8 - "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses... to the ends of the earth."

As Pete said on Sunday, why else would God give you His spirit? So you can get goosebumps? So you can get hyped up during a good worship service? Jesus says in John 14:12, "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these because I am going to the Father."

The point of sanctification?

Go.

The reason for His spirit?

To change the world.

Somewhere along the way the church turned missions into a cute program that gets shoved into the corner for the "specifically called."

Missions was never intended to be a program in the Church, for it is the only reason the Church exists.

Don't you get it? This world is jacked up, suffering and hopeless and it is your responsibility to change it. It is my responsibility. The moment we received God's grace is the very moment we are to give it to another. We are to take His hope, comfort, and light and go to a dark, hopeless place and show them what it looks like. The world is hopeless for they have not yet seen what it looks like. Who can you show it to?

I often tell people that the times I felt most alive were when I was on the mission field.

And now I understand why. I was doing what I was created to do.

I'm not exempt to the calling, and neither are you.

So my challenge for you is going to be the same challenge I gave myself:

Instead of just being receivers of God's grace, be an agent of it. Make your life not about you.

Stretch

2010-08-19T11:30:00.005-05:00

Stretching.
Every athlete knows its importance.
Without it one loses flexibility, the chance for muscles to rebuild, and ultimately the ability to maximize workouts and gain strength.
Stretching is absolutely critical to the success (and progress) of an athlete.

The same is true in real life. Now, I'm not saying you need to stretch your quads and hamstrings before heading to work or church (although I guess you could)- this is a different kind of stretch.

A more uncomfortable (and sometimes painful) kind of stretch.

Imagine a stagnant life. Day after day the same routine takes place: you get up, work 8-5, eat dinner, watch the news, and head to bed. Sure, you go to church. Sometimes you even volunteer. Once a week you go to community group, open up about tough subjects, and work on your faith when the pastor's message is convicting.

Not hard to imagine, is it?

The greatest temptation in life is to let it stay stagnant.

Don't like the word stagnant? Then how about a different word.

Comfortable.
The greatest temptation in life is to be comfortable.

Throughout Jesus' ministry, the call that is placed before us is anything but comforting.

Take up your cross and follow me.

Lose your life, that you may find it.

You will be hated for my namesake.

And let us not forget that Jesus' very message... got Him killed.

Feeling uncomfortable yet?

I know I am. But I'm not alone.

A couple months ago, I started attending a "small group" at my church (Cross Point Church). Small was the last thing it was. Committed to being missional and intentional in all we did, two things became apparent about our "Not So Small" Community group that made us different than all the others:

First, we were a group of people committed to never feeling comfortable.

And second, it was extremely contagious.

Since first attending, the group has gone from about 30 to 140+ regular attendees. Like other "small groups", we break into groups and discuss the message, dive deep into the tough calling of following Christ, pray for each other, and do life together. Sure, our numbers make us different (small groups are typically capped at 12-15, not 140 and counting...) but what we do after we meet is the game changer: we respond.

The mission statement for us 140+ 20/30 somethings explains it perfectly:

"We are imperfect people, living inside our design, building enduring relationships with each other, actively serving the needs of others, and committing to grow deeper in love and faith with Christ."

A couple things were for sure about our "small" group:

We were no longer small...

..."Not So Small Community Group" was a mouthful...

...we were people of action...

...and we needed a name.

Enter: Stretch.

The word "stretch" is an action verb, defined the following ways:

To draw out or extend (oneself) to the limit of one's abilities or talents.

To hold out, reach forth, or extend.

To extend, spread, or place (something) so as to reach from one point or place to another.

To extend, force, or make serve beyond the normal or proper limits.

To be capable of expanding, as to a larger size.

What's amazing about Stretch is that its corporate. Yes, I stretch personally and challenge others to do the same, but my stretching allows for someone else to stretch as well, and so on and so forth. My life, when stretched, is much more impactful alongside others who are doing the same.

So what happens when you stretch?

Your time becomes more important.

Your actions have eternal impact.

You wind up at Safe Haven on Mondays.

You teach ESL to African refugees on Wednesdays.

You help rebuild Nashville through Habitat for Humanity.

You work the lunch shift at Nashville Rescue Mission on Saturdays.

And you do it alongside those you sit with on Sundays.

I have the unbelievable honor and privilege to lead a group at Stretch and serve alongside some of the most dedicated, dynamic individuals. One of our main leaders, Grant Jenkins, made this video to unveil our new name to the group this past Sunday:

Stretch from cpstretch on Vimeo.

I know you all don't live in Nashville, attend Cross Point, or are in the single "20-30 somethings" stage of life, but, just like us, you can stretch.

So go ahead.
Be stretched.
And stretch others while you're at it.

When God Provides

2010-07-28T21:59:00.002-05:00

It was finally here. All summer it loomed over my head like a storm cloud, daily reminding me troubles were on the horizon. I didn't know when, but I knew that soon enough it would happen. And as I went to bed last Sunday night, I realized it was here.

For those of you who don't know, I'm currently a graduate student going to school at night and interning during the day. For my summer semester, I had the opportunity to intern full-time at D1 Sports Training, an elite sports training company known for its NFL co-owners such as Peyton Manning, Philip Rivers, and Mike Vrabel, and high-profile clients like Florida Gators (now, Denver Bronco) quarterback, Tim Tebow. There was no way I was going to pass this up. So, since April, I've been averaging 45 hour work weeks... for free. I had some money saved from coaching club volleyball and teaching lessons that would pay the rent for the summer, and ran a few volleyball clinics to help pay for groceries. I did what I could without burning out to survive. But the inevitable was bound to happen.

The money would, at some point, run out.

And last week, it did.

I knew the money was slowly disappearing with every tank of gas I filled and grocery run I made. But when I paid the electric bill and checked my account on Sunday, reality struck. $440 was left in my account with rent due ($419.66) on August 1st. No money for food, for gas, for.. anything. My loans for school were coming in, but not until the end of August. I was in trouble. Could I live for over a month on $20?

I haven't slept that poorly in almost a year. I tossed, turned, and was haunted by nightmares the entire night (most not even having anything to do with my current situation). I woke up multiple times and tried to create a plan for not only the current situation but also all of the uncertainties that lay ahead. That's how my anxiety works. It's never just the here and now. It's always the future, the plan (that I can't control), and all the uncontrollable factors that may come my way. I used to have serious problems with it in the past, worrying and stressing to the point of physical sickness, but I haven't had a flare up in a couple years. This one caught me by surprise.

I spent most of Monday in bed. After my morning run, I literally crawled back into bed and didn't move. I was paralyzed by all that I had to do to figure it out. My cupboards were empty, room was messy (which always adds to my anxiety), and I had no idea what I was going to do. I called my mom, cried a bunch, and listened to her every word of encouragement. (See my last blogpost.) It didn't take away all of my fear, but it did point my focus in the right direction.

Up.

The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith.
The beginning of faith is the end of anxiety.

As I read this phrase over and over (its on my desk, a birthday present from my mom), I realized (as I always do) that my worry adds nothing to my life, but only takes away my peace and ability to trust in God's plan for my life.

I decided to pray, consistently, for the trust that I have learned (from experience) to have in the Lord. Something will work out. He will take care of You, Christina. He always does. My Mom's words stuck in my head. I figured it was more important to pray for my faith and ability to trust than it was to pray for a miracle. I needed to trust Him - miracle or not.

Three days passed. No doors opened, no work came up, and to top it off, I found out the county wouldn't pay me for high school coaching until the end of the season. "I trust You" was the hardest phrase to utter each day.

And then, it happened.

Hi, Christina, it's Kim. Tracey gave me your number and told me to call you. I was supposed to run a volleyball clinic next week for a middle school, but no longer can keep my commitment. Can you run it for me? You will be paid $50 per girl. Give me a call back, we'll chat details.

I listened to the message probably seven times. Next week? Fifty dollars PER girl? Is this a joke? So I listened to the message again. I did the math in my head. I was just offered more money than I had made all summer.

I didn't call Kim right back. I couldn't. I was too busy sitting in my car, crying.

The words of Isaiah kept running through my mind:

Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.
I've called your name. You're mine.
When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you.
When you're in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end
Because I am God, your personal God.
Isaiah 43:2-3 (Message)

He is my God. My personal God. And He holds me in the palm of His hands.

---

I still don't have the words to articulate how I feel. I feel as though words might not be necessary here. Can you imagine how I feel? Have you ever been there? At the end of your rope, wondering if there is an answer for the problems you face? Is it money issues? Family issues? A need that hasn't been filled in years, let alone days?

Trusting in God isn't about the miracle that could happen; it's about the security that remains constant. You are in His hands. No matter how rough the seas or dark the sky, He holds you.

God will provide.

Do not fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.
Philippians 4:6-7 (The Message)

The Beginning of Faith

2010-07-22T07:57:00.002-05:00

There are very few people I know that have a stronger faith than my mom. Regardless of what's going on in my life, she always has a steadfast trust that God is ultimately in control. She doesn't hesitate, question, or sit back and worry. It's simple to her: God is in control.

For my birthday, she sent me a magnet with a handwritten phrase on it (and kindly recites it when on the phone with me listening to my anxious thoughts):

The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith.
The beginning of faith is the end of anxiety.

I've heard it said that unrest and worry aren't stress problems but faith problems. Lucky for me (the worrisome, anxious stress-ball that I typically am) dealing with a faith problem is an easy fix.

Again, my mom kindly recites my "life verse" to me as often as I speak with her. It's almost as if she knew when I was born I would need the constant reminder:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He will direct your path.
Proverbs 3:5-6

The writers in the Bible understood the importance of shedding the fear and worry, too. Again, fixing it is easy.

...cast all your cares on Him.

...do not be anxious about anything.

...fear not, I am with you.

...my peace I give you.

If this anxiety problem is such an easy fix, then why is it a daily struggle? If all I need to do is cast my cares on Him, why do I clutch on to them and let them affect every aspect of my life?

My anxiety problem is nothing less than a faith problem.

The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith.

What about you? Is your anxiety becoming a faith problem? What can you do to fix it?

...The beginning of faith is the end of anxiety.

I Have A Secret

2010-06-29T21:45:00.005-05:00

I have a secret to tell you.

I'm a closet romantic. I love love.

I may put up a tough, "all about sports" front but catch me watching a chick flick and you'll see my heart swoon.

Last night, my roommate and I gushed over Mr. Darcy while watching Pride & Prejudice. I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "I love you, most ardently" or "You've bewitched me body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you." My reaction is still the same as it was in high school when the words jumped off the pages. The movie just makes it worse. I'm such a sucker for Mr. Darcy.

Another closet guilty pleasure? The Bachelorette. All through college I rolled my eyes at my roommate and her friends who would gush and swoon over the Bachelor and the contestants on the Bachelorette. I made it a point to be out of the room on Monday nights. Becca, if you're reading this now, I apologize. I get it now.

Thanks to my current roommate, Liz, I now love watching as Ali sorts through 25 men to find true love. Ali was my favorite on the Bachelor, and it broke my heart watching her leave during the top 4. (Yes, that is where I got my start on this obsession.) And now, I weekly watch her quest to find love and outwardly gush as every guy contends for her love. The romance, thoughtfulness, and downright adorable things these guys do for her is amazing. I always find myself on the edge of the couch, sighing, wanting a guy like that in my life.

What is it about love that is so addicting to behold? We cry when hearts are broken, swoon when a man rides in [sometimes literally] to save the day, then throw popcorn at the TV when the movie is over and we come to our senses. Is love like that real?

Then there's the Twilight obsession. Good LORD! Yes, I've read the books. Yes, I love Edward Cullen. Yes, I love Jacob Black. I LOVE them. They would do anything for Bella. No, I don't have any T-shirts, and no I'm not going to the midnight premier, but to be honest? Of course I want a boy like that (without the vampire/werewolf part)!

Okay, joking aside, I'm not crazy about boys and desperate to find love. I feel like I have a good, calm head on my shoulders when it comes to love in reality. Its elusiveness in my life, however, has been channeled into this guilty pleasure of chick flicks, romance, and all things love.

There, I said it.

Any guilty pleasures you're hiding? :)

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

2010-06-20T13:46:00.002-05:00

I've been lucky enough to be blessed with an incredible dad. He doesn't typically enjoy the spotlight so today I figure I'd at least give him the spotlight on my blog.

My dad emulates Christ-like character on a daily basis - sure, he's not perfect- but he's a man that God has blessed with both wisdom and discernment in how to be a father, husband, and businessman. Life hasn't always been easy, but my father has continually placed his focus and trust in the Lord to lead him in the way he and his family was to go. He is always last, placing the Lord, my brother, myself and my mom constantly ahead of himself.

Obviously there are countless things a daughter learns from her father, but some things I am particularly thankful for:

-My love and knowledge of cars. Yes, having a mechanic/car-savvy father pays dividends.

-My extremely high standards for a husband. Watching a man live out the Christ-like qualities so many girls think don't exist is a daily reminder that I don't have to settle. Sorry boys!

-My love for hiking. When I was younger I cried the entire way, and once, my dad even pushed me up because I refused to go any further!

-My love (obsession?) with football. It sure helps having a partner in crime any time any game is on!

-My career pursuit. While watching a football game, Dad looked at me and just said "Ever thought of doing what you love for the rest of your life?" Smart thinking, Dad.

-My foundation in Christ. No, I don't live my parents' faith. My Dad (and Mom!) constantly pointed me toward the Lord to find my strength, hope, and source of life. For that, I am forever thankful to both my parents in never forcing a religion or boring set of traditions on me, but for living out a true relationship that I too wanted to have.

Now, typically on Father's Day, my family and I would go to Polar Caves in New Hampshire and go caving. From the Orange Crush to the Lemon Squeeze, my entire family would attempt to get ourselves through the tiny spaces and awkward turns in the caves. It always turned out that my dad had more work than play on his hands, trying to corral my brother and I, get us out of spaces we never should have explored, and tell us when it was time to go. We thought it was his favorite thing in the world. Hopefully he enjoyed it at least a little.

Nowadays, Father's Day is obviously different. I would love to say he's sitting out on the porch with the dog, enjoying a day off, but I know that's not happening. So, whatever you're doing with your time today, happy father's day, Dad! Maybe you can go to Polar Caves with Mom... but I doubt it would be as fun as it used to be.

The Elder Brother

2010-06-07T06:47:00.011-05:00

"There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them. Not long after that, the young son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living..."

If you're anything like me, you've heard this story a hundred times, typically brought up when a "sinner" has decided to "come back" to the Father. Each pastor that has brought this story forward has had the same emphasis: grace. The prodigal son wasted all he was given, lived a life of poor choices, and, while at the end of his rope, realized the need to return.

Most people find themselves in the story: running from the life we are called to have in Christ, squandering their inheritance in worldly pleasures and wasting all their energy on empty passions. I've heard some preachers go as far to stretch us all into the category of the prodigal son, addressing the congregation to search their hearts and find where it is they are running from the Father and wasting all He has given them. To be completely honest, I would sit in my chair and scan the room, picking out the people I thought needed to return to the Father (and probably should at that very moment). The story never tugged at my heart as much as it did others, but then again: I wasn't anything like the younger brother.

"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. 'For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate."

Some of us have never resonated with the younger brother coming home and being restored. Some have stayed at the House, working away and doing what they've been told. The prodigal son story was the week in church they could check out and passively sit, thinking "Oh good, its about time those sinners come back..." And therein lies the problem and the purpose for my writing this: the prodigal isn't the only character in the story.

"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 'Your brother has come', he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.' The older brother became angry and refused to go in..."

A few weeks ago, Crosspoint did a series called "People of a Second Chance." For three weeks, our church unpacked the "Parable of the Lost Son," with each week dedicated to one of the characters: the prodigal, the elder brother, and the father.

When Jesus told this story, he was addressing both Jew and Gentile, Pharisee and sinner. Each had a role in the story, yet for some reason, the Church and religious do-gooders (still to this day) skip over the elder brother as if he has little importance. But oh, how important his role is.

The older brother did right by the father, staying and working as he was told. His inheritance was safe and sound right where it was meant to be: at home. Day after day he was with his father, working his fields, eating at his table, and conversing with him. Everything seemed fine until that night he came back from the fields... and he heard music...

"'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'"

I don't know about you, but I know a few older brothers.

Working to get approval from the Father.

Doing the "right thing" out of duty.

Living the "Christian life" feeling overworked and under-appreciated.

A slave in the Father's house.

Notice his choice of words to his father. I have been slaving...

Slaving doesn't bear fruits of comfort, willingness, or peace- traits that should be present between a father and son- but of anger, resentment, and a sense of duty. Slaving isn't family-like; not many welcome it with open arms. But for some reason, the elder brother was convinced he was a slave.

Are you slaving for the Father? Do you feel you have put in years of hard labor out of duty? Think about all that you do in the name of the Father: is it out of the joy of your heart or out of the sermons you've absorbed? Is it rooted in love for the Father or in the system of religion?

What he [and so many other "elder brothers"] didn't realize, though, was that he always had the blessing of the father.

"My son", the father said, "you are always with me, and everything I have is yours."

He could enjoy the many luxuries the father had to offer at any given moment... but he didn't. The elder brother was so focused on doing right and doing his duty that he missed the point all together: being a son to the father.

But another warped perception filled his heart:

"But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home..."

This son of yours.

Not brother of mine.

Not member of our family.

The young brother was disowned in his older brother's mind. There's no way they were in the same family tree.

Who have you disowned? How many times have you sat on the porch, refusing to go in and celebrate one's return because of their past sin? I can hear your excuses now:

But he cheated on his wife!

But she wears a scarlet letter!

You don't get it, he's an alcoholic. He relapses all the time!

He lied to me.

She gambled our money away and lost our house.

The list goes on and on. I know the excuses because not only have I heard them... I've used them.

But here's the catch: it doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter what they did to you, who they betrayed, cheated on, or lied to. It doesn't matter how badly you think they "deserve" to suffer. They won't. Returning to the Father has only one catch- they get to come back in.

Every time.

Time after time.

There's no lock on the Father's door.

Be reminded of what the Father says:

"But we have to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

This brother of yours was lost and is now found. Celebrate.

A Confident Illusion

2010-05-27T21:38:00.009-05:00

I couldn't fight it anymore. The river of emotions that I'd been holding back for weeks was ready to burst like a dam at flood stage. My roommate listened as every shortcoming, fault, and uncertainty that was rooted deep inside poured from my heart. With each confession, I began to see a picture of myself as I really am, solidifying what I've feared most: I am a mess.

--

Throughout my life, the common perception of Christina Ludwick was [and sometimes still is] "That girl's got it together."

In school.
In sports.
At home.
With my friends.
At church.
In planning my future.

And it's my fault people think that.

Having it all together is an illusion I have prided myself in for years. Since the moment I dribbled a basketball and served a volleyball, my identity has been defined by a hardwood floor and the bleachers surrounding it. Wins and losses alongside statistics and recognition built a foundation (and not to mention an ego) that was sure to break some day down the road. (And it did, but I'm not quite ready to revisit that just yet...). But as far as any bystander knew, I had it all and loved every minute of it.

Not quite.

Sure I was a top student and an All-State athlete; most people would kill to have one or the other, let alone both. The problem? That's how I defined myself. I had built up a false sense of self and rooted my security in accomplishments. The roar of the crowd and the pats on the back fed the need to keep the charade going. They thought I was confident, and I promised myself they would never know different.

But oh, how different it was.

Long nights of crying alone in my room. Mornings of staring at the mirror through tear-filled eyes and hating what I saw. Lunch times eating with friends and questioning what they really thought about me. Drives home from practice wondering if people would still like me if I gave it all up.

If I ever had a second of downtime, my mind raced. What if they find out? What if they realize I don't believe half the things people say about me (or that I say about myself)? So I filled my schedule.

The busier I got, the easier it got to drown out the fears. The more in my schedule, the less I thought about who I was letting down. The stronger I portrayed confidence in myself, the deeper my insecurities dug and the more they grew.

You think I would have taken a step back, realized the destructive pattern, and stopped it all together. But that's the problem. Then they would know. They would know I'm not perfect. That I might not love myself. That I was finding my security in people's praise because I couldn't find it in myself. They would know I was a fake.

So the cycle continued.

And it still continues today. As I realized a few days ago.

---

So there we sat, my roommate and I, by the pool as I cried and let every unbecoming thought of myself come out in the open. My dreams remaining stagnant. My goals left unattained. My heart still unfulfilled. My passions drying up. My strength wearing thin.

What if they know I'm not sure of myself? What if they realize I don't have it all together? What will they do when they find out I have open wounds and persistent fears?

My fights and struggles are different today than they were back in high school and college. Some are still the same raging storms returning to wreak havoc on my perfect put-together life. Others are new, unfamiliar fears creeping up on me during my busy life and airtight schedule ready to take me by surprise at any moment. I fought many battles against the insecurities of my past before, and still know them by name.

Success.
Stature.
Respect.
Approval.
Applause.

These monsters still grip me today, much like they did before.

But if I know anything, it is this: God's love is stronger than any insecurity that eats away at my self-worth. He is sovereign and with him I can conquer any obstacle facing me: even those rooted deep inside my soul that I so often choose to bury. I was beautifully and wonderfully made by a Creator who loves me for all that I am, all that I was, and all that I am supposed to be. He loves me in my failures, shortcomings, and biggest mistakes. I serve a God who looks at me regardless of my accomplishments, my strivings, and my good deeds. His love is unconditional, His perception unskewed, and He longs for me to see myself through His eyes.

And I think that's a good place to start.

When we embrace God's sovereignity we find that
confidence increases,
insecurities fade,
worries decrease,
and calmness replaces striving.
-Charles Swindoll-

1 Year Ago Today...

2010-05-15T14:37:00.006-05:00

...I graduated from college.

One year ago today, I walked across the stage, shook President McGee's hand, and in doing so, closed one of the greatest chapters so far in my life.

The awards and medals couldn't even begin to tell the story that was written in my four years at Eastern Nazarene.

The volleyball team.

Doubles.

No net practices.

All nighters.

Dunkin runs at midnight.

Wolly beach.

Boston.

Teammates that became your best friends.

I never thought about leaving them behind.

But this was it. College was over.

Nashville Flood: Meet Paul

2010-05-13T16:20:00.010-05:00

People come in and out of your life every day.

The barista at Starbucks.

The guy on the treadmill next to you at the gym.

The cashier at the grocery store.

Most of the contact we make with people day in and day out lasts mere seconds with the exception of coworkers, friends and family. But during the Nashville Floods, I have had the opportunity to come in contact with some incredible people under the most unfortunate of circumstances.

Paul is one of those people.

Paul is a 57 year old factory worker. He's worked in the same factory since he was 21, and has been married to his high school sweetheart, Becky, for almost 40 years. He has seen his share of both good and bad days, he's seen the sun shine and the rain pour. But on May 2, 2010, he saw a sight he never thought he'd see.

Paul's house was one of the sites I was given for Serving Saturday last weekend. Leading a team of about fifteen, we walked an old dirt road past demolished houses unaware of what state his house would be in. None of us had ever met Paul or his wife Becky- his daughter Sarah attends Crosspoint so to us, they're family. His two-story house seemed to be in tact, but as we got closer, we realized even its high foundation didn't hold off the flood. The water line was at about 13 feet, if not higher. As we got acquainted with Paul and his wife, I walked around the house to see all of their belongings piled high... literally thrown out the windows and porch door.

"That's all of it," he said as he pointed to the mountain of memories drenched in muck and merky water. I looked around to see where the water came from, only to find a beautiful field (now mud) for yards around. There was no river, lake or even a creek to blame for this devastation. It just didn't make sense.

Sense or not, we got to work. Fifteen "kids" (Paul kept calling us kids, it was the greatest compliment in his eyes) with crowbars, hammers, and serious ambition ripped the insides of his house apart. As we sat down to have lunch during the demolition of his house, Paul, a worn-out blue-collar man, opened up and showed me a side I don't think many have ever seen. As we sat side by side on what was left of his two rocking chairs, tears began to stream down Paul's face.

"I just don't understand why you would come here, Christina. Trust me, I know there's hundreds of things you kids would rather be doing on a Saturday. Christina why are you here?"

If I could remember what I said to him, I would tell you. It had something to do with him not being alone in this, that we were there not just to say we loved him but to show it. I probably rambled about love in action, and what "we" at Crosspoint believe is truly being the church. It wasn't a long answer, but I guess it was the right one. Through his tears, Paul smiled.

Over the rest of lunch, Paul told me stories of his younger days, back when he had strength and energy like me. He asked about my parents, where I came from, and why in the world a Yankee was in the middle of the Bible Belt. "Glad to have you, though." He laughed.

After lunch, we soon realized we had worked too quickly for our own good. We were done gutting his house, but knew it was far too soon to leave. I was walking through the backyard, trying to come up with a reason to stay when I stumbled upon the answer. Literally.

I know here in the Music City almost everyone is a musician- whether the real deal or just at heart. Visionaries and dreamers come from all corners of the country in attempt to obtain a record deal, a managing contract, or just a few good gigs. It's all about music here in Nashville. What I stumbled upon was Paul's connection to that music, his love for the city and reason for never leaving.

Records.

Hundreds of records.

Boxes... and boxes... and boxes of records.

Covered in mud.

Soaked in flood water.

The heartbeat of a worn down man was sopping wet and ready to be trashed.

"Can we clean these?" Our 3 youngest workers crouched next to the boxes. They began carefully pulling each one out, handling them like priceless works of art.

"You would do that?" Paul started to walk away. He did that a lot. He hated crying in front of us.

We took that as a yes and got to cleaning.

For hours we washed, cloroxed, and dried hundreds of records.

"Aunt Bev", Becky's sister, knew how to clean records and sat with us while we worked. As we picked up each record, Bev would begin to sing one of the tracks on the album. "You know this one girls? No, of course not. Y'all are too young!"

Before we knew it, it was 4:00pm, and time to go. As we packed up our things, I went and found Paul. He shook his head when he saw his records out on the lawn, clean.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

You asked. All you had to do was ask.

*Paul and Becky's house was completely submerged in water Sunday, May 2. The river flooded all of their land and, before they knew it, was at the 13 ft mark. Both of them, along with their daughter and son-in-law, stood in the top floor of their house and waited. They were rescued by boat, having to climb out their top story window and onto their roof to get out and avoid drowning. They made us food (seriously, could have eaten for weeks) and took care of us like they were royalty with all the money in the world to spend. They epitomized gratitude. They claimed utmost blessing on their lives. In the midst of losing it all, they called themselves lucky.

Beautiful Things

2010-05-12T07:24:00.007-05:00

Every Sunday after the message at Crosspoint, the worship team ends with one last song. The song is always relevant to the message, typically one that is on the radio and most of the body knows. This past Sunday, though, the band sang a song I had never heard before... but can't stop hearing now. Everywhere I look I am reminded of its lyrics.

I know it was written long before the Nashville floods, but it's almost as if Gungor's "Beautiful Things" was tailor made specifically for these moments in this city.

All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

As the band played, pictures of our "Serving Saturday" were playing on the screen. We spent the day in some of the hardest hit areas gutting houses, saving pictures, and loving on the homeowners. The devastation was obvious, but throughout the pictures a new theme emerged: hope. Even amidst the gutted houses and destroyed memories, there was joy. The pain was still present, but something new was stirring. Love was in action.

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

These floods have taught me a lot about God's character. But it has also shown me the character of His people. In the midst of tragedy and devastation, the Church jumped to its feet in action. No, we didn't have experience in flood relief - very few had ever experienced something like this before. What the Church did, though, was react. And reactions reveal character. Mark Batterson once said "In my experience, it's much easier to act like a Christian than it is to react like one. Anyone can put on an act. But your reactions reveal what is really in your heart."

It's been nice attending a church for the past year that acts like Christians. We claim we're committed to reaching the lost, dedicated to being "real" and Christ-like and we say we're accepting of everyone. We say anything is possible. But saying that is one thing.

Read this again:

"In my experience, it's much easier to act like a Christian than it is to react like one. Anyone can put on an act. But your reactions reveal what is really in your heart."
Mark Batterson

Saying what we claim is easy. It's much harder to react like that. But they did. We did. And let me tell you - it's a beautiful thing.

"And we know all things work together for good
for those that love God, for those called according to His purpose."
Romans 8:28

He can make anything glorious.
He takes your rags and turns them to riches.
He spoke into the darkness and created light.
He breathed into dust to create mankind.

Pete always says "we serve a God who specializes in resurrections." And we do. He makes beautiful things out of the dust, the rubble, the flooded houses and empty hearts. He makes beautiful things out of us: the broken, jacked up people that He loves so much. He makes beautiful things out of floods. He makes beautiful things out of Nashville.

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

Nashville: Still Singing

2010-05-07T09:49:00.003-05:00

I hope most of you caught AC360 last night on CNN. Anderson Cooper came to cover the flood disaster amidst a broken city and wound up covering the exact opposite- the relief. Anderson stated that throughout his entire career of disaster coverage never has he seen a community rally together in such a way that Nashville (and all of Middle Tennessee) has.

"This story is of a city rising, not a city on its knees."

As he said those words, every Nashvillian collectively let out a sigh. Thank you, Anderson. We've been waiting for someone to realize this.

Flip the channel a couple times and you would see what I mean. The Music City, with historic landmarks and precious memories destroyed, was doing what it does best- playing. Singing. Raising awareness and funds by strumming six strings and humming melodies. At private venues. On Channel 4. In homes with rescue victims. Musicians grabbed their guitar and headed where they could be heard. And they played. They sang. They paired up with fellow stars and did everything they could to help their city. Phone lines were jammed due to the overflowing willingness to give. More volunteers were called in, extra outlets to receive donations were implemented. And still they played. They continued to sing.

Stars didn't hop on a flight to get out. Some jumped on ones to get back. With damaged equipment, flooded basements, and destroyed tour buses, they did the unthinkable. They went next door, to the Smith's house - and cleaned out their house. They walked the streets giving hope and comfort to all affected with each water bottle, sandwich, and pat on the back. They didn't think of themselves, their tours, or their own well being.

"We Are Nashville" includes the superstar and homeless man. The stay at home mom and the single dad working two jobs to make ends meet. "We Are Nashville" means we are family. It means we are in this together - regardless of job, stardom, or economic class.

It also means we are a part of something bigger than ourselves.

Over the past several weeks, we have been going through a series at my church (Crosspoint) called Shattered Dreams. Pastor Pete set up this series months ago, unaware that week by week, God was using his words and his message to lay a foundation for what was to come. God's ultimate plan was in motion before we even knew a crisis was coming.

Serving Saturday is next. We are expecting over a thousand volunteers...

To be the hands and feet of Christ is a privilege.

Will you help?

Go to crosspoint.tv for more information on how you can help the Flood Relief Fund!

We Are Nashville

2010-05-06T10:39:00.003-05:00

Today I want to share with you a post my good friend Adria Delaune posted about the situation here in Nashville. Lately I've felt there's too much I want to say and I've struggled to get my thoughts and feelings out... but somehow Adria was able to write it so well.

As a native Louisianian, Adria has experienced tragedy like this before... but not in the way most of you are expecting. Wrecked and ravaged by a hurricane (no, not Katrina), Adria knows what its like to be amongst people who are doers, those who band together and pick up the pieces that were to unexpectedly broken. "We Are Nashville" is not just a mantra to make us feel good... it is a way of life.

We Are Nashville - This is something we all need to know and understand.

Faith is Knowing

I am a Louisianian. That may not mean much to you. To you, it may just be another way I identify myself, like having dark hair or being of a certain height. But for me, and for everyone else classified as a Louisianian, it means a lot more. It means we cheer relentlessly for a professional football team that had a losing streak a mile wide until we finally won a Superbowl. It means we don’t know what in the world to do when it snows. It means we eat crawfish and pralines, drink Community coffee and Abita beer, and put Tony Chachere’s on just about everything. (And for the record, we just call it “Tony’s”.) But most importantly, it means we understand rebuilding. We have to...we do it just about every year. When you live in a hurricane path, that’s just a risk you take. Louisianians are a resilient people.

I am also a Nashvillian. This week marks the anniversary of my move to Nashville. I spent 3 years in Philadelphia and never felt as at home as I do here in Nashville. As I sat in traffic yesterday on I-40 after dropping my mom off at the airport, I started thinking about the similarities between Baton Rouge and Nashville and why these two places have always felt like home to me.

Over the past several days, I have watched my new home become so much like my original home. As my mom and I sat glued to the tv on Saturday watching the weather forecasts, it started to sink in. This storm was serious. We had seen it so many times in our own hometown that we could reasonably predict what would happen. On Sunday, our greatest fears for the city became a reality. But we never imagined what would follow in the next several days. Home after home filled up with water, the city’s historic buildings were bathed in dirty floodwater and the tourist hubs began to disappear as the water crept up farther and farther. And still, the story barely made the national news. It was an all-too-familiar situation.

In late August of 2008, Hurricane Gustav ripped through Baton Rouge, destroying homes and businesses and cars and lives. Like Nashville in the wake of the flood, the media graciously donated fifteen minutes to the “sad situation” in Baton Rouge and it was just as quickly brushed aside in favor of other news. But for 8 days, the city sat without power. The trees that once lined the beautiful streets of the capital city still lined the streets, but in a much sadder and more chaotic fashion. Debris was strewn about, cars were crushed and homes were roofless.

And yet, no one knew. Just a few years before, Hurricane Katrina had garnered more than her share of airtime. But she was different...she came with an abundance of crime and hate and anger and blame. Little (but equally as devastating) brother Gustav packed no such punch. In the aftermath of Gustav, neighbors pulled together to help each other out and clean up their streets. Church groups went from neighborhood to neighborhood offering to pick up debris and clean yards and driveways. Mayor Kip Holden was relentless in his pursuit to restore our city to its place and encouraged residents to lend a hand wherever they could, whether it was with their time or their money. In just a matter of a few months, no trace of a hurricane was left.

In the days since the flooding, I have seen Nashville pull together in that same exact manner. Just as Baton Rouge clung to the motto “We are BR”, Nashville is living up to “We are Nashville,” and with such radiance! This part, too, is familiar. Neighbors are helping neighbors, church groups are sending out volunteers in droves and Mayor Karl Dean is leading the charge to restore his city. There is very little crime resulting from the flood and no one is whining. People are just doing the only thing they know to do, supporting one another. Perhaps that’s why the national media is only just now picking up the story the way they should.

People helping themselves doesn’t garner big ratings. Communities pulling together to accomplish more in a day than major agencies accomplish in weeks doesn’t sell. Picking up the pieces and moving on doesn’t make the front page. But cities that repair themselves and hold their heads high come back. And they come back better than ever.

In his inaugural speech in 2007, Mayor Dean said "Nashville needs to be a city for families." Well, Mayor Dean, Nashville is a city for families, but its also a city of families. This isn’t just a city, it is a community. It is a family.

My heart aches for the people facing loss and devastation. But I am also filled with a sense of immense hope that we will all pull through this because of the faith this city has in God, in itself and in its people. My favorite quote is quite possibly more relevant now than ever before.

“When you come to the end of all the light you know and are forced to step off into the darkness, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen: Either there will be something solid for you to stand on or you will be given wings and taught to fly.”

Faith is knowing we will recover. So go ahead Nashville, spread your wings. Fly.

Flood: Heavy Heart

2010-05-05T10:08:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I spent the day working relief efforts with my church. I planned on bringing my camera to capture photos of the devastation and of the service that so many people were providing. My camera never moved from my front seat, but those images will stay in my mind forever. I went to Wendy's house, where the waterline was at least 8 feet high through her house. A river literally rushed through her home destroying all of her belongings. I sifted through mud and debris for hours, hoping for a picture, a keepsake, a memory. Very little was saved.

Our church is continuing to reach out to numerous neighborhoods - and you can see some of the images HERE.

I left Wendy's yesterday drained, empty, and brokenhearted. I didn't go coach volleyball like my typical Tuesday night... I sat alone, prayed a lot, and wondered how I would find the passion to reach out again. And today, I feel much of the same. In the midst of the typical "end of semester push" that has happened for the last 5 Mays, this year I am finding it hard to care. As grade driven and overachiever focused I typically am, I just can't find the gumption to study, to write, to network.

Now don't get me wrong, I love where I'm at. I look forward to work every day, enjoy teaching volleyball lessons, and running training clinics. But today, that passion just isn't there.

My heart is heavy.

My prayers are constant.

My mind is elsewhere.

I can't focus on anything but Wendy, and all those like her, sifting through the mud and debris, hoping to find something worthwhile.

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven... "
Matthew 6:19-20

Nashville: Where is your hope?

2010-05-04T07:14:00.004-05:00

Nashville.
The music city.
Some see it as the promised land, others the city of broken dreams. This city is the melting pot for every dreamer, hopeful, and wishful thinker. Musicians and businessmen alike ventured into this city to make it big - and many have.

But these days, Nashville is singing a new tune. Watch the news and you no longer see concerts at riverside, street musicians playing for a few bucks, or celebrities walking through their favorite coffee shops.

The images show you a city of devastation.

Of heartbreak.

Of grieving.

Of loss.

But in the midst of all this chaos, many of us can hear that still small voice, whispering peace and love to all those in need of comfort.

"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
-John 14:27-

Let not your heart be troubled.

I have never been in the midst of a natural disaster. I, like many of you, have sat at home watching floods, tornadoes and hurricanes devastate different areas of the world and been in disbelief. Shock, awe, and confusion have gripped me during news reports and I often wonder how God could have let any disaster happen. But now, here I sit in the midst of it all, feeling it touch far too close to home.

I never question God's sovereignty, but after this weekend I have questioned His protection.

It's hard to walk through the wreckage without asking some major questions. Why that particular house when the rest of the street was untouched? Why was an entire interstate washed away during a heavy traffic flow? Why were the homeless flooded out? Those with little children now without clothes, a roof over their head, or food to feed their kids? What about the missing?

And then, I asked, why them... and not me?

A friend of mine told me that I was blessed and that it was undeniable God was protecting me. I cringe at that thought. If God was protecting me, does that mean He wasn't protecting the Williams? or the Smiths? What about the Jenkins? and the Banters? Claiming supernatural protection on my life in this particular situation in some way insinuates that He chose to protect me and not someone else.

And I refuse to accept that.

Now, I'm no Biblical scholar, and many might disagree with me, but my "being blessed" has nothing to do with whether or not the storm flooded me out, destroyed my belongings, or took my life. Since when is God's blessing on my life defined by purely physical things? Isn't God's love for me and His promises to be with me blessing enough?

Those who were wrecked and ravaged in this disaster remain blessed - and I pray they come to see that. Regardless of possessions, though it might not look like it, God's blessing is reigning down on their lives. It might be manifested differently than before, but hasn't gone anywhere.

Pete Wilson, my pastor at Crosspoint, once said:

"God is more concerned about your character than with your comfort."

God allowed Job to suffer and lose all he had in order to bring Him glory.
He let Lazarus die so that His disciples would "see and believe." (John 11:15)
And He's going to use Nashville's suffering to bring light into this world.

"God will allow suffering, pain and crisis in order to detach our Hope from other things and attach it to Himself."

-Pete Wilson-

So, Nashville, where is your hope?

Nashville Flood: How you can help

2010-05-02T22:27:00.004-05:00

As most of you know by now, Nashville and its surrounding communities are under water. The past two days have been absolutely devastating to all of us here in the city and it looks as though the rain may stop by tomorrow. There's no way to truly assess the damage but:

-Thousands have been evacuated from homes
-Even more are landlocked and trapped in their homes with no way out
-7 inches of rain fell Saturday, 13.5 inches fell as of 9pm on Sunday
-On Sunday, literally every major road in Middle Tennessee was under water
-At least 13 deaths have been reported, even more missing
-Hundreds of cars had to be abandoned on the highway when the river came through

What breaks my heart most, though, are the people that had nothing to begin with. My church and community group work closely with the people at Tent City, a "city" built of tents that the homeless have built with their families. This is their home. In the past 36 hours, all of Tent City has been destroyed. We have grown to love, care for, and have friendships with those who live there... and now they have nothing. They have lost all they know - their homes, blankets, and shoes. Just recently we re-equipped a few of them with new batteries for flashlights and oil for lamps. We've built pallets for their tents to sit on to keep them dry. All of it is gone.

With the devastation touching close to home for me and many of my friends, I know that I must look at the fact that I still have a house, a car, and a change of clothes. Our brothers and sisters at Tent City must literally start all over. I sit here with tears in my eyes questioning why the less fortunate get affected so much worse than the rest of us. They didn't do anything to deserve this... no one did.

Instead of sitting and questioning, wondering and being sad, I am asking that any of my friends/readers outside of Nashville would consider buying and sending me a Home Depot/Lowe's gift card (or anything, really) to begin purchasing new tents, supplies, etc. Every penny of the gift card will be used to help rebuild not only Tent City but any other refuge we've worked with here in Nashville. People are hurting, they need our help.

It's time to show the love of Christ through action. Pray about how you can help.

Flooding in Nashville

2010-05-02T11:17:00.004-05:00

In case you haven't heard, Nashville is under water. Literally. A rain storm moved in yesterday that has devastated communities throughout the middle Tennessee area... and it's not done yet. Although the tornadoes and thunder storms have subsided, the rain just keeps coming.

Roads have turned to rivers.

Houses and cars under water.

And the rain keeps coming.

Currently, I'm stuck in my old apartment with my roommate, Liz. The apartment is empty, with a tv, two blankets, and some food. My new place is in Brentwood, and the roads between here and there are impassible. We've been here two days now and are praying for a break in the rain. But honestly, I can't complain. Some of my friends have lost so much - their cars, their basements, and some - their houses. I've always watched terrible stories like this on tv, but now, I'm living it.

A woman lost her husband yesterday when he stepped outside to try and help a girl stranded on her car. The road had a current as strong as a raging river. As he tried to pull her to safety, the man lost his footing and they were both swept away. The woman could only watch as her husband was swept away on the street they drive every day. He didn't survive.

This is my city... and we're hurting.

Will you take a moment and pray for Nashville?

...and I will give you rest

2010-04-27T09:35:00.005-05:00

Exhaustion. We know it all too well. We've accepted it, welcomed it, and, for some, embraced it. We even name it.

Our career.
Our husband.
Our family.
Our school work.
Our commitments.
Our faith.

But if you look it up you find a few harsher names-

Burnout.

Collapse.

Consumption.

Debilitation.

Fatigue.

Feebleness.

Weariness.

Medical professionals have even defined it as a disorder.

"Exhaustion is a mental state at which people arrive when their resources for adapting to stress has broken down."

Exhausted people are characterized as:

Struggling to get through each day.
Having trouble getting up in the morning.
Unable to bounce back from stress or illness.
Depending on coffee, tea, or soda.
Simply too tired to enjoy life.

Doesn't this sound all too familiar? Does it break your heart to read those characterizations and find yourself in each of those sentences?

As a current graduate student, exhaustion defines my life. I am constantly living a balancing act, juggling school, two internships, two coaching jobs, work, and church. My planner is a disaster, with meetings, times, dates and locations scribbled throughout its worn pages; my calendar in my room literally color-coded so I never get confused with who the paper is for, which site the meeting is at, and which team the practice plan is for. There are days I leave the house at 5 or 6 in the morning and don't return until 11 at night. Each local coffee shop knows my order by heart and I keep coffee on hand at the apartment. The above characterizations define my life. A simple cold can knock me out for weeks (just last month a cold turned to the flu, then to bronchitis and pneumonia. I was on bed rest for a week). I go days without seeing my roommate (she could admit to exhaustion as well...) and even longer without calling my family. I fit in a workout every day to "relieve stress", then its back to the grind.

What's most disturbing about exhaustion is not that it wipes you out, makes you miserable, and causes depression and irritability - although each of those is harsh in its own right. The most disturbing part of exhaustion, at least for me, is that sometimes it doesn't cause those things. Let me explain:

I'm not unhappy. I love my life. I am working towards my dreams and every day I take another step towards reaching them. Never more than now have my dreams seemed attainable, achievable, and quite realistic. Things are good - I am incredibly blessed and would be lying to you if I said I felt different. And therein lies the deception of exhaustion. Finally I'm accomplishing my dreams, meeting the right people, involved in the right church, and getting the right degree... but at a high price. I feel guilty when I relax, restless when I sleep, and rushed to get from one moment to the next.

In the midst of my exhaustion I am missing the purpose of my life.

Jesus says in John 10:10, "I have come that [you] may have life, and that [you] may have it more abundantly." More abundantly.

The word "abundant" is intertwined with terms of excess, having too much, literally overflowing.

Abounding.

Bounteous.

Cup runs over with.

Exuberant.

Filled.

Luxuriant.

No end of.

Plate is full of.

Exhaustion robs us of exactly what we were meant to do - live. We have been conned into believing that hard work, dedication, and involvement are the keys to fulfilling the life we are called to. Whether it be in a career, family, or [brace yourself] church, we have been duped. Jesus did not come to give you more hours in the day, a bigger to-do list, or extra gumption to volunteer at every church meeting, service, and outreach. He came to give us life to the full - but he didn't stop there. He tells us He will give us rest (Matt.11:28) and that His burden is light (v30).

I need to be honest - I'm exhausted. I'm wiped out, dried up, and completely weary. After reading Jesus' invitation this morning, I realized how much of Him I need to truly find rest. No nap, caffeinated beverage, or invigorating workout can refuel me, recharge me, or give me the energy I need. Living life requires being filled... living it more abundantly requires the rest that only He can give.

"Come to me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest." -Matthew 11:28

Acting like a 6 year old...

2010-03-31T23:58:00.007-05:00

I love vacations. Whether its a weekend off (I sometimes consider that a stay-cation because I rarely leave the house) or a trip to a different climate, vacations seem to stir my soul and get me excited. Rarely do I rest on vacations (isn't it funny how it always happens like that?)... coming back more exhausted than when I left, due to sun exposure and lack of sleep. When I was a child, I remember being unable to sleep the night before we headed out on vacation. Typically it was a Disney world trip, and we had to leave at about 4am to go to the airport (the benefits of living in the middle of nowhere in New Hampshire...), so I sat wide awake in my bed thinking of all the things we were going to do once we arrived.

Tonight, I find myself doing the same thing.

Where am I going on vacation, you ask? Nowhere. Then why the lack of sleep? I know, the suspense is just killing you.

One thing I love almost as much as my own vacations, is someone else's vacation... to Nashville... to visit me. And at approximately 10:30am tomorrow morning, one of the greatest women on earth will be landing at Nashville International Airport. Lucky for her, I'll be there with an embarrassing sign waiting at the baggage claim. Lucky for me, she won't even notice a sign in my hands when she sees her baby all grown up.

That's right - my momma is coming to visit. I was able to go home for Christmas, and while there, convinced her to come stay with me for Easter. Anyone who knows my family understands how great of a feat this is - Ludwicks just don't miss holidays. We get together for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Memorial Day... we may have even celebrated Columbus Day together too. We like gathering together... and this year, I get to expose my mom to my new world, and share with her my friends, church, and community on such an important weekend. I'm like a 6 year old ready to go to Disney all over again. I'm so excited I just don't think I can sleep.

Too bad I have a workout at 7am...

Vision Board: Run a 5K, 10K, 1/2?

2010-03-29T13:01:00.000-05:00

I hate running. My relationship with running has always been related to pain, punishment, and pay-back. Let me explain:

As an athlete, running was what we had to do to stay in shape. Basketball preseason was accompanied by suicides, 4 by 4s, and sweet sixteens. Never once did I finish a sweet sixteen feeling great. Suicides are named as such because... well... I think you understand. Pain was inevitable. For me, though, it was also a reminder how out of shape (compared to most of my teammates) I was. I'm that girl who was blessed with athletic skills... not the athletic body. Basketball revealed my physical weaknesses: I was slow, easily winded, and always "the trailer." I was the high scorer, a beast on the boards, but never the "athlete." Running revealed that.

When it comes to volleyball, running was mainly the punishment. Once I got to college I quickly realized my coach's favorite activities: run-thru's, the "loop", and not setting up the net. Freshman forgot the balls from the bus? No net practice. Lose a 5-game match due to hustle points? Run the loop. Not moving your feet on defense? Run-thru's. Oh, and then there were the suicides for missed serves, running the loop for "fun", and sweet sixteens for attitude problems. "BASELINE" (in any sport) is usually not a term you click your heels to.

But then, almost 2 years ago, I started to like it. I had lost about 35 pounds and found running a little more enjoyable. When I was at my parents house over the summer, I would get up most mornings bright and early and run into town (2.2 miles). My dad always went to town to get coffee so once I reached the bay, cooled down, and stretched out, he had a newspaper, hot coffee in hand, and gave me a ride home. I called this activity pay-back. I hated every moment of the run (mainly due to the sun barely rising) but once I reached the stop light downtown, I felt empowered. I wanted to "pay [myself] back" for the hard work I had put in into losing the weight. Sure, the activity wasn't enjoyable, but most of my life that run was impossible to complete. I had to know I could do it.

My vision board has 5K and 10K written on it. I never "loved" running, and quickly threw the activity out the window when I graduated, stopped "training" for athletics, and moved to Nashville. Running and I aren't on good terms yet again.

This has to change... for me mentally and of course, physically. For me, running is the punishment of the past that I am determined to turn positive. I am going to run because I like it... someday.

Vision Board (Dreams)

2010-03-28T11:07:00.000-05:00

So as I said yesterday, I am creating a vision board to better visualize and actualize my dreams. Last night, I started writing the various "dreams" and goals I want to accomplish over the course of my life. It varies from career goals to people to meet, to mountains to climb (literally!). This morning I thought I would share some of them with you. Some require explanation... others, not so much. I'll break them down day to day, but for now, here's some of the list:

(in no particular order)
-Run a 10k
-Work in the NFL
-(more particularly) Work for the New England Patriots
-(more particularly and much less control) Win a Superbowl (execs get rings, too)
-(if I stay coaching volleyball) Coach college ball
-Found a sports ministry, "3:23 Ministries"
-Be part of an "Outside the Lines" feature. I love Bob Ley.
-Work out with Jillian Michaels or Bob Harper... and survive.
-Be featured in Sports Business Journal's "40 under 40"
-Climb Mt. Washington
-Meet Tim Tebow, Drew Brees, and Pat Summitt
-Have an appearance on ESPN's "The Sports Reporters"
-Speak at a women's leadership conference
-Pay off all my loans by age 29.
-Write a book: "On Purpose"
-Backpack Europe
-Teach as an adjunct professor at a University

Some seem silly, some completely absurd, and others easily attainable. Sure they may need some adjustments over time and some won't break my heart if I don't reach them, but I'm proud of my vision. What's most important is that no day should be wasted... I have too much to do and work towards! What about you? Any silly, absurd dreams you should be going after?

Dreams, Part 1

2010-02-26T10:20:00.000-06:00

I've realized I must dream. And dream big. Too often people set their sites on things attainable... things that are too easily attainable. When that happens success then becomes stagnant, too easy, almost lazy. I'm not saying that achieving a promotion in your job, or being a strong "provider" for your family is not a good thing. I'm just worried people too often miss their calling. Now don't read into this too much. I'm writing this to all people, not just those believing in a specific "calling" from above. I'm talking about what makes you tick. The thing you dreamed of when you were little, and still secretly dream of now. Who says you have to work a 9-5? Who says work has to be WORK? I believe that doing what you love can be a reality. The day to day can be literally a "dream come true".

Over the past couple months I've been realizing that not everyone was as blessed as I was to be raised in a family that fostered dreams. I have parents that never scoffed at my ideas, or told me I had to fit some type of mold. They taught me life lessons and instilled a strong work ethic, but what I did for a "career" was up to me. Through my interactions with friends and colleagues I have realized not everyone has had that experience and it breaks my heart. Everyone deserves to dream, and has the right to work towards making them reality. Whether someone has told you this or not, listen to me now: YOU are unique. You have wants and desires and TALENTS that noone else has. You don't have to fit some specific type of person to be a success. Whether its a hobby or career, you deserve to accomplish those dreams of yours. Think about them, soul search a bit. What do you dream about?

Over the next couple weeks each blogpost is going to feature one of my "dreams" (or visions). I am creating a vision board (kind of like an artsy "to-do" list) of all that I want to do - whether its a career, a vacation, or just a simple experience, I'm going to put it on my board... and frame it, and hang it in my room. Then I'll choose one to write about each time I blog. Maybe someone will read one of them and be inspired to think about their dreams... At the very least I will make my dreams more "plan-like" by writing them out and publishing them. Don't keep them in your head. Tell someone. Write them down. Regardless of how silly it seems, its YOUR dream. Make it happen! My dreams are worth attaining, and yours are too.

So tell me - What do you dream about?

"You cannot dream yourself into a character: you must hammer and forge yourself into one."
-Henry David Thoreau-

Altars: Reminders of Times Past

2010-02-21T21:56:00.000-06:00

Tonight I finally got plugged in at my church and started attending a community group. We have a "midsized group", about 50 or so people, that mingle and get to know each other before breaking off into smaller, more intimate groups. Nothing too earth-shattering occurred, but, on the way home a few God moments took place.

Liz (my roommate) and I spent the entire day together- church, lunch, shopping, walk, community group. Our relationship is great, but we definitely have missed out on pushing each other spiritually and keeping each other accountable. At lunch we had a tear moment discussing how blessed we were with family (and how much we missed them!) and how we need constant reminders that God really is too good to us. Tonight, on the way home from group, we talked about how we fear we're "missing it". It's not that our faith has disappeared but more that its empty. We both feel that we are wasting our gifts (more on that later... I promise I will dedicate a post on my fervent belief in my spiritual gifts and my renewed need to use them). We talked about the past, those times in our lives that we truly felt most alive, using our gifts for God, letting Him use us.

Lately the importance of altars has been coming up in my life. Donald Miller writes about how altars aren't as much for God (doubtful a pile of rocks does much for Him) as they are for us. Reminders of where we were when God saved us, protected us, brought us through. I encourage you to make altars in your life. A letter, a blogpost, journaling, a picture. Whatever it may be, make permanent what God has done in your life. We are too flaky to remember everything.

Below is a letter I wrote before last Christmas (my senior year of college) to my college chaplain. This is one of my altars. To give a bit of a preview, my fall semester of senior year was a dark one. I found myself in a dark and depressed state, many days crying "God I don't feel you, but I won't doubt you. One day I'll find joy again." At one point, two of my friends actually had an intervention with me at Quizno's. I was in a dark place, but, like He always does- God came through. He is so faithful.

When you read this letter, think of me, my bold voice/attitude and sarcasm in the letter. It reads pretty well when you throw a sarcastic tone in there :)

Dear Corey,

I am writing you to inform you of the severe repercussions of your very first message in chapel this fall. You spoke of Ruth, her mother-in-law Naomi, and their faith in God. You challenged us with dayenu… You asked if our God was enough. Several times I was almost compelled to shout out loud “YES! God you are enough!” but I sat there silent, overjoyed at how my senior year was beginning. God was present that day, nudging so many of us to just grab hold of Him. I sat there during your prayer, saying over and over “God, you are enough for me. Dayenu. You’re enough.” I began to list out situations, bad circumstances that could possibly arise: if we don’t win in volleyball, dayenu; if I struggle with my grades, dayenu. I was so amped, so thrilled that my last fall semester was going to be unbelievable. I had no idea how unbelievable it would be…

Thanks to you (and that clever word that I am most likely spelling wrong), I dove in head first- to my devotions, my relationships, my studies. “You are enough God, dayenu!” And then it began. This was my senior season for volleyball, and it was one we all had looked forward to and worked so hard for. In preseason we looked unstoppable, all of us knowing our hard work would soon pay off. Things didn’t go according to plan. At the home opener, our MVP tears her ACL… “Am I still enough?” It was almost immediate that I heard it. “Of course you are, God. We can get through this.” Then the team fell apart. We lost more games this year than any other, not making playoffs for the first time I think in school history. As captain many times I was at a loss for words. God, what am I supposed to say? How do I lead them? Then I couldn’t even do that. Shoulder injury. Being as pumped about God being enough for me as I was, I recited that cute little word you taught us over and over again. “Dayenu. Dayenu.” It took three weeks for my doctor to clear me. “God, I don’t like this, but you’re enough. You’re enough.”

During all this something else was going on outside of volleyball. I hadn’t been feeling well all summer, and finally things came to a point that forced me to the doctor’s midseason. I left my doctor’s office with a harsh diagnosis and a prescription to “make me feel better in time.” This blow was a little harder, leaving a sting. This time I cried. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” When the tears were gone, the phrase was not. I found myself saying it in prayers, writing it in my journal, and even in letters to friends- “…But I’ll get through. God is enough for me.” Where is this COMING from?! I think it absolutely absurd for me to remember the first chapel of the year so vividly on almost a daily basis. Who would have thought the pain and suffering that would come from actually listening to our college chaplain?!

I wish that were it. I wish this was the part of the letter that I tell you regardless of what I went through (whether you can sense the humor I am attempting to throw into this letter or not) I do appreciate those words you spoke, and how you imbedded them into our brains… but it is not, because my recitations of “dayenu” are far from over. Where were we? Oh, right…

It’s my senior volleyball season and I just got cleared to play again. I traveled with the team one game but couldn’t play until the weekend at our overnight tournament in Connecticut. This was the one tournament we looked forward to all year. Then it happened. He wanted to know just how serious I was about that Him “being enough” thing. Oy. My roommate told me a girl who was over the night before called and said she just found out that she had lice. We went to the nurse to take precautions but, c’mon, she was in our room for 20, maybe 30 minutes… “This is what a nit looks like.” The nurse shows my roommate a strand of my hair exactly one hour before my team was to be leaving. I called my coach, crying. I couldn’t travel. Definitely not on an overnight. I wasn’t shouting “dayenu!” at this point, but I could hear it, in my heart. “Am I enough for you now?” “Give me a sec…” This, of course, was before the epidemic was recognized all over campus. Funny, God probably asked a lot of people that week the same question. “Are you sure I’m enough for you?”
So there I was, in my dorm room, crying over lice, a shoulder that was better but I couldn’t use (because I had lice), the fact that my team was going to bond without me, and that I couldn’t get that darn word I didn’t even know how to spell out of my head! “Dayenu, dayenu, dayenu...” Enough already! But, like before, it doesn’t end there.

Let’s fast-forward about a month to last week. Thanksgiving break had just ended and all I had to do was get through one week of classes and three finals. I got back to school Monday morning and while I was unpacking noticed weird spots on my neck. I didn’t think much of it, but day by day it spread a little more, and a little more, until it covered my entire upper body. With every day it getting worse I decided to get it checked out. Once again, I was at my doctor’s. Pityriasis rosea. Yeah, I don’t know how to say it either. It’s a rare viral infection that manifests itself through a rash and lesions on the body. Supposedly it’s harmless… personally I think it looks (and sounds) dangerous. And if you know anything about viral infections, you would know that antibiotics do not work therefore there is no treatment. How long does it last? 6-10 weeks. “It’ll run its course then leave the body.” My doctor is so knowledgeable. Run its course… 6-10 weeks… But she says there is no known cause.

I know exactly what causes it. Dayenu. A little word that packs a punch. I can’t even spell it, but it’s been doing quite a number on me. It has taken my health for the time being, upset my great plans of winning a championship, and has limited my wardrobe to turtlenecks and sweatshirts.

So I just wanted to say thank-you, Corey. Ha. I bet you’ve never received a thank-you letter like this! But I’m serious. When I came in this year I was ready for God to move, come in like wildfire and set this campus ablaze for Him. Hearing a sermon full of “you can do its!” would have left me defenseless and with nowhere to turn. So thank you for being obedient and speaking what I know the Lord put on your heart… even if it was just for me. But for future reference, you should really put a disclaimer on these catch phrases of yours.

In the God who really is all that we need,
Christina

When I sent this to my chaplain, I had no idea the reaction it would create. He supposedly (according to his wife) had it posted on his refrigerator at home. Knowing a student took something to heart that impacted their life so strongly really meant a lot to him. He needed it, and so did I.

I don't know about you, but I've needed to revisit my altars lately.

Are there any altars in your life that need revisiting?

Boring, Broken Hotel...

2010-02-12T20:55:00.000-06:00

Well, tonight I don't have anything extremely witty (or earth shattering) to write about. No, tonight I'm merely bored out of my mind at my hotel so I figured I would write a little update on where I'm at.

Currently, I'm sitting at a computer in a business center at a Hampton Inn in Alabama. I'm coaching in a big volleyball tournament that starts tomorrow and had plans of relieving all my stress tonight but sadly, the gym is a joke (broken treadmill, broken elliptical, a bike that could possibly work...). Ultimate fitness for tonight is a bust. So now, after my Guiltless Black Bean Burger (absolute FAVORITE) from Chili's, and a riveting episode of House I'm out of things to do. I decided to not bring my laptop with me (really need a break from work) so I could relax and just focus on volleyball. A lot of good that did me. On my defeated stroll back from the not-so-fit fitness center, I spotted a 24 hour business center. Uh oh. There goes my break from technology and work. Luckily, I had no messages or emails to sort through so straight to Facebook I went. Again, my productivity is riveting. I can't stand my attraction to that stupid website.

In other news, the further south I drove, the colder it got. Once I reached Birmingham, I found snow. SNOW. What the? Boston's blizzard fizzled out, Dallas got 10 inches of snow, and I drive south for the weekend and hit a snow storm. Honestly!? It was, however, a beautiful thing to drive through "rush hour" without a single car on the road. Oh Alabama. Oh southerners. Oh global warming. (PS, in my humble opinion, I feel they should call it something else... especially when snow is popping up everywhere).

The snow did, however, make for one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. My absolute favorite "picture" of nature is the way everything looks after a snow fall. Everything is shining, reflecting the sun, and plain magnificent. It's a sight I grew up with and every time I see a picture of a snowy winter I'm reminded of home. On my drive today, as the sun was setting, I beheld what I can honestly say was the best yet. A southern sunset with a New England background. I think only those who have experienced both can imagine what it looks like put together. It was absolutely breathtaking.

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Speaking of breathtaking, I'm going to head back to the unfit center to see if that bike works...

The Onside Kick

2010-02-08T12:16:00.000-06:00

Very few things in sports are as risky as the onside kick. About 13% of expected onside kicks are recovered by the kicking team. THIRTEEN percent. Now that's a risk. But last night, during the biggest game the Saints have ever played in, that risk was taken.

No one saw it coming. Not the fans, not the commentators, and definitely not the Colts. The start to the second half looked typical, with no signs of impending trickery. All of a sudden, fans and commentators alike were out of their seats reacting to one of the gutsiest calls made in Superbowl history: a surprise onside kick to start the half.

Coach Payton knew what he was doing. He was taking a risk. 87% of the time this type of call backfires and gives the other team perfect field position... 13% of time gives you the ball. High risk means high reward. And against a team like the Colts, the risk had to be taken.

Now, unless you've been under a rock for the past 16 hours, you would know that the risk paid off. Not only did the Saints recover the ball off the kick, but they also went on to win the Superbowl.

A risk. A reward. A championship.

Snow?

2010-02-01T22:31:00.000-06:00

Now I know I'm not a good judge of southern winters, but supposedly the storm that we had here in Nashville this past weekend was the "blizzard of the decade." Again, I'm not a good judge on southern winters but are you kidding me? At first I thought it was a joke, we got 3... maybe 4 inches of snow and the city shut down. Now I get that Metro doesn't have the sand, salt, or trucks to handle any type of storm, but one would think that 4 days after the last snowflake fell from the sky the roads would be plowed. And yet, they still aren't. Since Friday there have been over 500 accidents. The schools have been closed Friday, Monday and tomorrow (Tuesday). The temperatures have been in the upper 40s every day. The weather is perfect. Kids are having the best snow days any child could ask for (yet they have not mastered the art of making and throwing a snowball...).

I wonder what it would be like back home in New Hampshire if we didn't have the capabilities to take care of even the most minute of storms... 3 inches? 3 days of schools and businesses closed? Christmas vacation would have lasted straight through to Groundhog's day.

The past few days I literally didn't leave my house. Before the storm hit my roommate (also from New England) and I poked fun at all the southern "crazies" running out to stores to buy milk, bread, and eggs. I jokingly said they all craved french toast in the snow. But then, the storm hit and we couldn't get out. We've been stuck here for 4 days.

All of a sudden 3 inches of snow paralyzed a true blooded Yankee. Get me out of here.

What I'm Doing

2010-01-29T09:38:00.000-06:00

Several people have asked about an update on my life here in Nashville so I figured today (as the snow comes down outside and the entire city is shut down) was a perfect day for an update. So today there will be less profound thoughts and references and more of a basic update on my life. Hope I don't bore you!

For a quick recap:
I moved to Nashville, TN in June '09 to work on my master's degree. I am currently an MSA student (Master's of Sport Administration) at Belmont University; the program is designed to be completed in 2 years and is problem-based learning focused. Classes are at night which allows students to work and intern throughout the work week. It's a fantastic set-up and really allows us to network and meet the right people through real world experience. No spoon feeding information like in college.

Back to current day:

So what am I doing right now? A better question would be what am I not doing?! Life is rather busy for me right now, and it looks to only get busier. I am interning, coaching volleyball, taking classes, and working part-time. :Sigh: I forget how much is on my plate until I type it all out.

When it comes to the "classroom", I'm in my second semester at Belmont, taking Facility +Event Management and Sports Journalism + Media courses. They are problem-based learning, so instead of basic classroom learning I am actively working in the sport industry, learning as I go. For example, my event management class is planning a golf tournament; each of the students are in charge of a particular "industry" segment- sponsorships, press releases, awards + auctions, registration, etc. I'm particularly excited about my journalism course- I've always had a desire to be a beat writer or journalist. Mom is more excited than I am... she thinks writing is my lot in life. (Plus, I think Mom would love to say "I told you so" for the rest of my life if I end up a writer.)

In addition to my classes this semester, I am interning at A-Game under the GM in overall administrative operations. A-Game is a state-of-the-art (and ginormous!) sportsplex that includes 2 hockey rinks, 6 basketball courts, 12 volleyball cours, Bikram Yoga, a skate academy, full fitness center, and turf for speed and agility training. My main project as an intern is to conduct an economic impact analysis for the company and how it affects the city of Franklin and its surrounding community. Quite a project for sure! Luckily I have a CPA that will work closely with me to assist in any way needed. Plus, this June, A-Game is hosting the 11U Girls AAU National Basketball Championships, of which I will be a part of the planning committee. This internship is definitely giving me several looks at the industry and is allowing me to learn and think on my feet with a high level of responsibility. Who knows what I'll wind up doing after all this!

I am coaching volleyball for Alliance Volleyball Club in Franklin, TN, a program with over 450 girls and 42 teams. Needless to say it is very different from Lakes Region Juniors back home in New Hampshire... well, its just bigger. I am the head coach of the 17-2 team, an age group I have coached now for 2 straight years (coached 17-1 in NH last year). We have our first tournament in Birmingham, AL in a couple of weeks. I can't wait. The one thing that has been for certain in my "career path" has been coaching volleyball. Not only am I able to be involved in a sport I am passionate about, but I am also able to be a part of teenage girls' lives at an important stage in their life. It caught me by surprise, but I am becoming more and more fond of the 16-ish year old age group. I never went into coaching to be a mentor, but have found it to be the most rewarding of experiences.

I'm working part-time at a bakery ( The Puffy Muffin ) when I have the availability. Paying the bills is never easy, but as a full-time student/part-time intern, money has never been tighter. The Puff, as I like to call it, is an upscale bakery and restaurant in one of the most affluent towns in all of Tennessee. "Stars" like to show up from time to time (James Cameron, Alan Jackson, etc...) so it makes the day interesting to say the least. My co-workers are absolutely the best part of the job... I have definitely made some of the best friends at the Puff.

Surprisingly, I do have some free time. Sundays you'll find me at my favorite place in all of Nashville: my church. I attend an unbelievable church ( Crosspoint ) and know without a doubt that God has great things in store for me at this church. The pastoral staff is great, and they are real about challenging themselves and the entire church body. Hardly a Sunday goes by that I am not challenged, inspired, or pushed out of my comfort zone at Crosspoint. I'm also getting back into playing again, with my basketball season and adult volleyball league starting next week. I'll be hurtin' for sure!

With all that said, I am blessed. Even with the stress of money, bills, and figuring out "life", I am convinced that I am where I need to be to live the best life possible. Of course, I miss my family, and, if I could, would make them move here to be closer to me. They and I both know that this is where I need to be for now, so we'll just have to make it work. Afterall, who knows where I'll be this time next year!

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So I hope this served to be an interesting update to where I am and what I'm doing with myself... I know I'm bad at updating people personally and keeping them in the loop, maybe this will redeem me for now. :)

Getting Personal

2010-01-17T08:46:00.000-06:00

For awhile I was writing in attempts to avoid the mundane day to day activities- what I did with my time, who I am spending with, etc. But then, after a long yet exciting day at work I realized there is no mundane. I (and you, too!) must make each day new, fresh, and exciting. Afterall, today is unlike any other day in my (or your) life. So, I decided to make this blog a little more personal- sure, I'll still have the "light bulb" moments when I'll write vigorously about some spiritual breakthrough or eye opening experience- but I feel as though I've been missing the importance in the day to day activities and where God is taking me. No, this is not going to be a "what I ate for lunch" type blog. For awhile it may even be playing catch up. I just feel like my story has a readable plot line (I'm sure yours does, too!). God has done too much in my life for me to remain silent.

But oh, where to begin?

"I'm Standing on the Rock"

2010-01-08T09:48:00.000-06:00

I love me some college football. Anyone who knows me would hardly be shocked at this statement... it may even be the understatement of the new year. So, like any true fan of the game, I sat down to watch the BCS National Championship game last night in hopes of seeing stellar performances by both teams that we'd be talking about for weeks. I made a few predictions with the guys at work, chatted up the possibilities with my Dad (football is kind of our thing), and figured we had covered all the possibilities.

If the O-line can protect McCoy, it'll be a high scoring shootout. Longhorns win.

If the Tide can get to McCoy, much like Nebraska did, it'll be a long hard game for Texas. Alabama wins.

If Texas' defense is really as good as everyone says they are, they can hold Ingram. Close game, Texas wins.

If Texas' defense is only strong enough for non-SEC teams, Ingram will break out. Alabama wins.

If it comes down to the last 2-3 minutes, a defensive touchdown will win the National title for either team.

No one even dreamed to say "Well, if the winningest quarterback in NCAA history for some reason doesn't play..." Why would we? In his 4 years as starting quarterback, McCoy has yet to be injured. And, c'mon, he was sacked by Heisman finalist Ndamukon Suh 4 1/2 times- 9 times total by the Cornhuskers- just one month earlier. McCoy has proven that he can take hits.

But on the Longhorns' first drive of the night, McCoy took a hit he didn't see coming. No, it wasn't Bama's defensive end Marcell Dareus. It was the result of the hit that had him speechless. "I've take that hit my whole career..." But this time, he couldn't feel his arm. Longhorn fans knew it was bad when father, Brad, left his seat and headed to the locker room. Colt wasn't coming back out.

During the second half, McCoy, noticeably distraught, walked with his father and the trainers back to the field. He wasn't going to play again. His collegiate career would end with him on the sidelines of the biggest stage in football. McCoy never dreamed it like this.

He had every right to say "No, thanks" to Lisa Saulters' request for an interview. He could have rightfully slapped hands with the opposing team and headed for the locker room. He chose, however, to test his courage a little further. When asked how he felt, he couldn't speak. It was obvious as he fought back the tears that he was unsure how to complete the interview. So instead of speaking the first thing that came to mind, he paused. Then, all of a sudden, he had the words. It was as if the peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7) came over Colt for the entire world to see.

If you missed it (even if you saw it), his interview can be found here: post-game interview
(and if that link doesn't work, you can always grab it here on youtube: Colt post game

After a classy congratulations to Alabama and a few words about his team, Colt inspired all who were watching. "I always give God the glory. I never question why things happen the way they do. God is in control of my life and I know that if nothing else, I'm standing on the Rock."

Standing on the Rock. I still get chills watching the interview. As a Gator fan I often hear the "giving God the glory" speeches. With Tebow under center, after every game he gives credit where credit is due: Above. When Bradford won the Heisman last year he quickly showed the world his priorities: God first. Even this year, Ingram gave God all the glory.

But McCoy, at the lowest point of his career- dare I say of his life- gave God all the glory. Sure, he's confused. I'm sure for a long time he's going to wonder why. But to the whole world, on the most watched game of the entire season, he sent a message louder and shined his light brighter than he ever could have with a crystal football in his hands and burnt orange confetti falling from the sky. He was broken. He was at a loss for any kind of answer. All he had left was his foundation. "[But]..if nothing else, I'm standing on the Rock."

I think what is most moving about Colt McCoy's answer to Lisa Saulters is that we get it. We've been there. Sure, not on as grand a stage as that, but we've all experienced failure. Confusion. Turmoil. Life as we know it crashing down.

Don't you agree? Haven't you been there before?
May we all have a foundation that we, too, can be so sure of.

Yesterday I came across a quote that more than fits this situation.

"In my experience, it’s much easier to act like a Christian than it is to react like one. Anyone can put on an act. But your reactions reveal what is really in your heart."
-Mark Batterson

Last night, Colt McCoy showed what was in his heart, not by some willed-to-win performance that goes down in history, but in how he reacted to the most devastating blow of his career. The world was watching as Colt became sure of one thing: his footing.

"I know that if nothing else, I'm standing on the Rock."

Although we may never be on such a stage, or handed such an audience as he, I only pray our reactions show what is in our heart, and that it is just as glorifying to God as Colt's was.

Are you standing on the Rock?

PURSUIT of wisdom. 31 Day Challenge

2010-01-04T09:17:00.000-06:00

On the 1st of the year, my pastor challenged our church to a 31 day pursuit of wisdom. This 31 Day Challenge is as simple as reading one chapter of Proverbs each day throughout the month of January (31 days, 31 chapters). We also have our own blog page ( 31 Day Challenge ) so we as the Church (all of us, even those not at Crosspoint) can share and grow together in this pursuit.

If you'd like to do the challenge, please join! You can share your thoughts on the blog page and, if you have twitter, tweet about it with the hash tag #cp31days . We're all in this together, and I know I'd love to hear what everyone's thoughts are!

I hopped in on this challenge a few days late, so I'm going to briefly blog about the first 3 chapters. My hope is to every day blog about each chapter as well as share on the community page. I'm looking forward to the growth that is imminent.

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Proverbs 1-3

For some reason, I've always viewed the "wise" as an older, sophisticated man who reads books, drinks tea, and speaks in a way that makes you scratch your head. This might be due to my love of C.S. Lewis and the countless images of him sitting in a pub I have of him in my head, but nonetheless the "wise" has never been an ordinary person. I think that's the start of the problem. Solomon writes in Proverbs to all of Israel, not just the prophets, those with an education, or the old and bearded men.

So, where do we even begin?

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge,
but fools despise wisdom and discipline. (1.7)

Seems easy enough, right? But fearing the Lord is probably one of the hardest concepts to grasp. We all would be wise if we truly feared Him, revered Him, stood in awe of Him. In chapter 2, Solomon explains how to understand the fear of the Lord:

My son, if you accept my words
and store up my commands within you,
turning your ear to wisdom
and applying your heart to understanding,
and if you call out for insight
and cry aloud for understanding,
and if you look for it as for silver
and search for it as for hidden treasure,
then you will understand the fear of the LORD
and find the knowledge of God. (2:1-5)

If you accept His words, store His commands, turn your ear to wisdom, apply your heart to understanding, call for insight, cry aloud for understanding, and search as if its silver or a hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord. When was the last time you did all that? No wonder we are running short on wisdom! No one said it was easy, but we do know that it is worth it.

Chapter 3 hits home for me, as it contains my "life verse" that my parents chose for me when I was young (3.5-6). Moreover, this chapter came alive to me through the summer when I caught a glimpse of what it means to truly trust in the Lord. It's easy to recite a verse, especially when its been in your life since you were little; but it is another thing enitrely when you are living it out.

Have you ever tried not leaning on your own understanding? It's a lot harder than you think. I don't know about you but I always have a plan B... and C and D and E. If things don't go according to plan, I have a back-up. Always. I love to lean on my own understanding. I understand that things don't always go according to plan, therefore I plan more, make sure I don't miss anything. But in my planning, I miss the one thing I'm supposed to encounter - dependence on God. When plans fail, and I turn even my back-up plans over to Him, my reliance and relationship with the One who's got it all under control grows. And that's the point, isn't it? Verse 7 goes on to say "Do not be wise in your own eyes..." When was the last time you said "I don't know" and felt good about it? Shouldn't that be daily? To truly acknowledge God in the day to day? I'm not sure what bothers me more: not acknowledging God's sovereignty in my life or being okay with my own wisdom. Both are disturbing; both require change.

So today, don't be wise in your own eyes. Let God guide you every step, making your paths straight.

Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
bind them around your neck,
write them on the tablet of your heart.
Then you will win favor and a good name
in the sight of God and man.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make your paths straight.

Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the LORD and shun evil.
This will bring health to your body
and nourishment to your bones.
(3.3-7)

Unpredictability

2009-12-08T23:34:00.000-06:00

If Christmas teaches us anything about the character of God it is that He is unpredictable. At church on Sunda, we started a new series entitled Rhythm. You can download the podcast off the church's website: http://crosspoint.tv . There are many things to think about as Christmas approaches, but one that is often overlooked: God's shear unpredictability and willingness to do literally everything He can to reach us.

While talking about the typical symbol of the season, my pastor explained the Nativity Scene as follows:

"Nativity" should be a reminder that Christmas is thick with unexpected, transcendent hope. The Nativity scene should be a reminder that Christmas is God telling His people, "You can't predict me! I'll show up at anytime, anywhere, in the midst of the most unlikely circumstances and through the most unlikely people."

To read Pete's blog, click HERE .

He also included a quote from Frederick Buechner, who said:

"Those who believe in God can never in a way be sure of Him again. Once they have seen him in a stable, they can never be sure where he will appear or to what lengths he will go or to what ludicrous depths of self-humiliation he will descend in his wild pursuit of man... And, this means that we are not safe, that there is no place where we can hide from God, no place where we are safe from his power to break into and recreate the human heart because it is where he seems most helpless that he is most strong and just where we least expect Him that he comes most fully."

There were so many things I wanted to say in conclusion, but Beuchner's quote covers it all. We have a God who loves us to stoop to the ludicrous depths of humanity to reach us. This Christmas, find a way to encounter Him. He found quite the way to encounter you.

Exhaustion

2009-11-27T23:22:00.000-06:00

"Be exhausted for God, but remember your supply comes from Him."
Oswald Chambers

I saw this quote on a friend's Facebook page the other day. Let's think it through for a second.

Exhaustion.

We all know it - too close of a friend for some of us. Late nights, long days, working more hours than we ever agreed to when we took that job.

Exhaustion.

The reason relationships fail, friendships fall apart, and we continually, each and every morning, dread the alarm. But exhaustion... for God? Colossians 3:23 states to "do everything as if working for the Lord." Do it all for His glory. Not for the promotion, not for the money, but for the glory of the Lord.

Be exhausted- doing His work,

Be exhausted - expanding His kingdom.
Be exhausted... for Him.

It is, afterall, about Him, right? Then go ahead, be exhausted- for Him. Whether it's in your marriage, at your job, or in your church. Put your whole self into it.

BUT REMEMBER: your supply comes from Him.

Isn't this the part we too often forget? We pour ourselves out (whether in work, ministry, family, or school) and never let ourselves get poured into. Regardless of how much of God's work you do, you will eventually run empty. Your exhaustion will overtake your passion. It'll overtake your will to work. It'll dry up your well of joy.

Your supply comes from Him.

So rest in Him. Be exhausted in Him. Let Him fill you up, pour you out, and refill you again. Maybe then your days will have more purpose, and your nights will be more restful. And you might even find yourself looking forward to tomorrow morning.

-xT

Taking Thanks?

2009-11-24T15:36:00.000-06:00

Today I spent 8 hours boxing pies, cakes and casseroles for the upcoming holiday. Sadly, all these efforts were not in attempt to feed the hungry, serve a shelter, or give hope to families who have so little to be thankful for. No, I was at work, on the more affluent side of town, boxing up hundreds of orders for our guests. As they pulled up one by one in their Escalades and BMWs, came in with their designer bags and sunglasses, and mindlessly swiped one of their several credit cards, I began to wonder if this was what it was really all about. I caught myself commenting on it to some co-workers, getting rather fired up about "this" being the problem and how sick it made me (luckily this was when I was up back, nowhere near the customers...). I looked at all the food: mainly pies, cakes, and specialty desserts, you know... the things you "treat" yourself to when you're already stuffed. None of it necessary; all of it complimentary. For today's orders alone, I could only imagine just how many thousands of dollars that was about to be spent on the most counterproductive activity on a holiday such as Thanksgiving- overindulgence. While we sit around our tables, eating more than our fair share, we too easily pass off the day's suffering to the Detroit Lions and their fans as they lose yet another Thanksgiving game. We joke how terrible it must be to never win, and how they truly have nothing to be thankful for. Then we go back to the kichen for round 2.

Joking aside, the importance of family and spending time together should never be taken lightly. Those who have family (whether it be 2 or 32 members) should celebrate all they have together. What I discovered today, however, was that I have strong feelings on the matter- and I really struggled to hide them. When did our holidays become about elaborate tablescapes, overpriced casseroles, and decorative cakes? I struggle to accept that a day dedicated to "giving thanks" has anything to do with any of those things. Now, I know not everyone has the same convictions, nor does every person claim to live "like Christ", but this has little to do with religion or beliefs. The last time I checked, or maybe it was just how I was raised but, to "give thanks" was to show appreciation for what you had, and showing appreciation typically included a form of sharing, or giving. True gratitude is passing it along, or what some call "paying it forward." If that's the case, then, on a day dedicated to giving thanks, shouldn't there be an overabundance of such giving?

Another thing I've learned, religion and faith aside, is that its not about me. Hold on, let me retype that for those of you who's eyes blurred at the sight of that statement: It's not about me. Or you. Take a second. Think on that. I know it goes against every message you hear in the media, in our culture, and from society in general.

You deserve a day off.
You need a break.
Seriously, take some time to yourself, and celebrate.

Don't get me wrong- there is nothing inherently bad about relaxing, taking time off, or catching a break. But during our celebrations, how better could we use our money? Or use our time? With Thanksgiving being a time of celebration of all that we've been given, shouldn't we then also give? It is wrong when the focus on ourselves engrosses our every thought to the point we no longer see what is around us.

Hunger.
Hopelessness.
Fear.
Doubt.

Couldn't we better celebrate being thankful? Isn't there something we have that we could share? Now I know these thoughts (maybe moreso rants...) started today due to the massive selling of $35 cakes that would cost less than $5 to make on your own (trust me, I did it myself...), but these convictions are in no way new nor limited to the gross indulgence of the general population during a holiday that is supposed to be of gratitude.

So I guess, this Thanksgiving, I wonder if we could spend a little less on ourselves, and practice giving thanks by actually giving.

Ignoring His Presence

2009-11-23T22:30:00.000-06:00

"We may ignore, but we can't evade the presence of God.
The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito."
- C.S.Lewis

When we look to find God in the world, how often do we search for the big moments, the pillar of smoke, or burning bush? While God does still manifest in that way, we too often forget that He is constantly on the move around us, we are just too blinded to notice. We spend our every day waiting for a miracle or a revolutionary experience to take us by surprise, when, in all reality, He is on every street corner, passerby, and stressed out moment. We cannot escape His presence.

The question, then, is what is blinding us from Him? If our world is crowded with God- why can't we see more of Him? Is it unintentional? Just "busyness" or stressfilled schedules forcing us to practically beg and plead for Him to push through and show us a miracle? Why do we constantly demand Him to shout at us when the Creator of the Universe prefers a whisper?

Have you considered the possibility that this "blindness" to God's presence is not only tragic, but purposeful? If we are not intentionally choosing to be in His presence daily, then, we must face the truth that we are intentionally choosing to not seek out His presence. It's easy to excuse it, that we just can't find Him anywhere. But are we even looking?

He might not be easy to find; I haven't seen many burning bushes grabbing my attention lately. But I do know one thing for sure- He is here, constantly moving, always speaking.

Have you seen Him lately?

The Patterns of This World...

2009-11-22T21:20:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I wonder if turning Scripture into "memory verses" ruins our ability to truly grasp the meaning. The classic example would be John 3:16. I can hear my childhood voice spitting it out as quickly as possible, like it were a competition to see who could ramble the fastest. I wonder why we do this to the most important verses- I find we become immune to the power that lay within each one.

So here I am, spending my Sunday evening the best way possible. I already slept in (used Nyquil last night due to a ghastly cold), grocery shopped (spent a lot less than planned!), and watched my share of football (well, there really is no limit to the amount of football that I can watch, but the Patriots aired here in Nashville and that was just perfect! Plus- they won!). I'm drinking my green tea and eating Back To Nature peanut butter cookies (just 'cause they're organic doesn't make them any less fattening...) and am trying to be as focused as possible. I popped onto Facebook and an old friend, Jake, suggested I dedicate my blog to him. "Write how much you miss a short kid in NH with tattoos and a white truck..." Jake. I miss you. :) My roommate also mentioned that I could write about the dynamics here in our apartment. Words cannot even describe...

Anyway. Church tonight gave me a lot to think about. The entire service was powerful, with spontaneous baptisms and wonderful worship, but there is no way I could write about everything. This is just one of the points made (and a mere 5 seconds of the service... ).

A single moment captured me tonight during church, at Crosspoint. While talking about our previous week of pledging for our Hope Centers and new campus opening, one of our pastors made the comment "I am so blown away by stepping out in faith that has taken place here. You continually prove your home is elsewhere, and exemplify Romans 12:2..." I paused for a second. Wait, 12:2? That's "Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind in Christ Jesus..." See, there I go again. Darn memory verses. (I am not taking away from the importance of the knowledge of scripture. I am merely pointing out how easy it is to forget what it really does mean...).

The patterns of this world... to hoard, to get. To be comfortable. That's the goal, isn't it? I quickly pulled out my Journal to jot down the verse. Next to it I wrote "Avoiding Comfort". What a thought! Romans 12:2- a verse I have always connected with things like sexuality, drugs, and alcohol. You know, the "good Christian life." But money? Stuff? Comfort? THOSE are the patterns of the world. Hallelujah for new takes on memory verses!

So I guess some of my (and maybe your) favorite memorized verses need a second look. I fear we are limiting the power intended in each and every word.

-xT-

Conflict: God's Ideal Plan

2009-11-21T17:32:00.000-06:00

I spent last night at a book tour event... not the typical activity done on a Friday night by a 22 year old in Nashville... but I wasn't the only one. More on that later.

It was called "An Evening with Donald Miller"- author of Blue Like Jazz. This tour was covering his newest release A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. I haven't read the book (just started BLJ for that matter) but I knew it would be quite the experience. I wanted to share some of the thoughts he presented as best I can remember, along with my own additions and thoughts. If you read anything groundbreaking, I doubt it is from my own mind. Possibly just in my own words.
****

Think of a good story... whether it be a book or a movie. Anything that makes headlines (whether its your favorite genre or not) has a few things in common. Of course they have a protagonist, antagonist, supporting cast, etc. But all good stories share something else- conflict. In movies, the most critical point of conflict is the "Act 3 Climax"- when all things build to a certain point, and push the protagonist to the edge (and you to the edge of your seat) and all things finally come together (the couple falls back in love, the army wins the war, the kidnapped child is found). War movies, romantic comedies and even cartoons have this included. A good storyline is not without conflict. The conflict makes the story great. And we wouldn't have it any other way, would we? We see ourselves in movies, relate to the characters, and connect emotionally with them (whether it be an "I wish", an "awww" moment, or an inspirational "fight for what you believe in"). But without the conflict it's just... meaningless.

Its the same in our own lives. Conflict is the only way a character in a story can change. Don't we want to change? Don't we want our story to be great? Why, then, do we avoid conflict with all our might? Why do we cling to the "woe is me" attitude the second our boat gets rocked? Conflict is painful, yes, but it is the very thing that adds beauty and inspiration to our story for those that are watching. It is the way we change.

For some reason, the church (and our entire culture for that matter) has taught us to avoid conflict, and that if faced with it, we must be doing something wrong. Where did this idea come from? Who in the world came up with the idea that Jesus would rid our lives of conflict? For some strange reason, we have been taught to believe that accepting Jesus is our Act 3 Climax. That it is the most pivotal turn in our lives, and that we forever will be comfortable because of it. The truth, however, is much different.

Look through the Bible. The most dominant command is "Do not fear." Conflict is evident. Think of what accepting Jesus did to certain people's lives: How about Paul? Before Jesus, Paul, originally known as Saul, was an extremely powerful man, killing any who disagreed with his choices. Life was pretty good- I doubt he had much conflict, minus the type he caused for others. Enter: Jesus. Now, if it were like in the movies (and like too many church tell us), this would be the Act 3 Climax. Everything from here on out would be perfect. The credits would roll, and all watching would applaud. But, something different happened. He was blinded, imprisoned, and killed. And that's just the Reader's Digest Version of what happened. Serious, serious pain and suffering. So much for an Act 3 Climax. So much for life smoothing out.

So the question, then, is what do we do with this conflict? Without it, our human experience suffers. Especially relationally. How are we supposed to teach other if we have nothing teaching us? How are we to grow together if we are not growing ourselves?

Paul called himself a blessed man- blessed to be persecuted, tortured, imprisoned. Today's definition of blessed? Two incomes, 2.5 children, a brand new car and a smiley, accepting church family. This type of "blessed" robs your life of meaning and the ability to play a role in the beautiful story that God intended you to be a part of. Yes, I said it- God intended you to encounter conflict. He wants you to. To tell His story by embracing yours. How well are you telling your story? And how are you making it great?

****
What a way to spend a Friday night, huh? Thankfully, I wasn't surrounded by the stereotypical bookclub crowd (I honestly don't know what that would look like, because I definitely am not part of that stereotype...). I was surprisingly surrounded by every stereotype, people of every shape and size. :Sigh: Ohh, the body of Christ.

-C

Faith, Comfort Zones, and the Realization that its NOT about me

2009-11-20T03:20:00.000-06:00

We just finished a series entitled "Faith, Hope, and Love" at my church. Some serious works took place, and God made a move on my heart. After taking a HUGE leap of faith, I emailed my pastor, Pete, about the decision. You can read my email, which Pete posted inside his blog, by clicking below

The Thrill of Trusting

I came home tonight (well, its 3:30 am, so... I guess I could say morning) to 30 comments on his blog post, and 13 re-tweets on the subject. I was quoted on Twitter accounts by people I don't know, and informally thanked by some that I may never meet. Over and over again I read "I needed this..." or "May I make the same decision..."

It's not about me, my money, or how painful of a decision it was. Even less than a week since making the decision I can see just how LITTLE it was about me. Sure, my faith will be built and tested over this time... but I can't even begin to know who else my decision will now affect. Thousands of people follow Pete on twitter... possibly thousands have read my simple email.

One of the lines in the email I wrote was quoted several times as "tweets" - Being “comfortable” is not the goal- the goal is to be at the center of God’s will.

Let me say that again to remind myself, and maybe you- the goal is to be at the center of God's will.

How humbling it is to be used by God. How thrilling it is to know He wants to use me.

-C

The Start of Something Good... Don't You Agree?

2009-11-19T00:23:00.000-06:00

Hopefully not all of my blog posts will be titled with some catchy phrase from a song, but I thought it fitting to start it this way... and besides, there are plenty of song lyrics that day in and day out define my life... those were just a no-brainer.

I'm not sure why exactly I am doing this- I doubt there are but a handful of people who will thoroughly enjoy what I have to say, let alone read about what I have been doing. Regardless of who will read, I do know one thing for sure: God is requiring of me things I never thought I could hand over and is begging me to have faith that literally can, and will, move mountains. God is asking that He be God in my life... and I'm finally going to let Him.

So there it is- the most basic and uncreative first blog post of all time.
It can only get better from here...

-C

Living Resolutely

I've Moved! (my blog)

Four-Year Old Faith

But Moses' Hands Got Tired...

One Word.

A Year in Review: 2010

Week 1: Acts

Good News

Project 66

Champs, Travel, & Christmas

Counting the Cost

Safe with the Shepherd

Approval Addicts: Where's My Husband?

Approval Addicts: I Wasn't Skinny Enough

Approval Addicts: What YOU Think Matters

Approval Addicts: Because I Don't Love Myself

Addiction: Approval

The Seduction of Achievement

Empty Promises

The "Call" to Missions

Stretch

When God Provides

The Beginning of Faith

I Have A Secret

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

The Elder Brother

A Confident Illusion

1 Year Ago Today...

Nashville Flood: Meet Paul

Beautiful Things

Nashville: Still Singing

We Are Nashville

Flood: Heavy Heart

Nashville: Where is your hope?

Nashville Flood: How you can help

Flooding in Nashville

...and I will give you rest

Acting like a 6 year old...

Vision Board: Run a 5K, 10K, 1/2?

Vision Board (Dreams)

Dreams, Part 1

Altars: Reminders of Times Past

Boring, Broken Hotel...

The Onside Kick

Snow?

What I'm Doing

Getting Personal

"I'm Standing on the Rock"

"In my experience, it’s much easier to act like a Christian than it is to react like one. Anyone can put on an act. But your reactions reveal what is really in your heart."-Mark Batterson

PURSUIT of wisdom. 31 Day Challenge

Unpredictability

Exhaustion

Taking Thanks?

Ignoring His Presence

The Patterns of This World...

Conflict: God's Ideal Plan

Faith, Comfort Zones, and the Realization that its NOT about me

The Start of Something Good... Don't You Agree?

"In my experience, it’s much easier to act like a Christian than it is to react like one. Anyone can put on an act. But your reactions reveal what is really in your heart."
-Mark Batterson