My heart is eager to progress in our path to ministry overseas.

Sometimes being here can be exhausting, only because my heart is so furiously fighting to be elsewhere. I must at times reign it in. I know, although our time of preparation has extended itself beyond our initial expectations, that this is God's hand at work, preparing us for successful ministry.

As our wise leaders at church have told us, they will not "send us over to fail". If we're going--we are going prepared. God would desire it no other way.

However we at time still find ourselves discouraged; as if we're at a standstill.

Yet we know that these time-consuming steps in our life will not prove futile. School, ministry, work, even the time itself between now and our overseas ministry each play a part in building a successful base for our ministry.

But only if God is in them. If in anything we do God is not present, and Christ is not preeminent, then it is indeed a waste of time.

May school never be for that degree alone. May work never be for that paycheck. May ministry never be for that "check" off of our to-do list.

This time is precious, although frustrating as it can be.

Where Vulnerability Meets Grace

Father, my offense towards You in greater than any offense I have ever suffered against me.
An irrevocable disdain,  even if only through my birth.
Tainted by breath--Your original breath of life, swallowed up by death; these clay hands to pound those nails.
The nails driven in by my own force.
They puncture Your Dear One's flesh.
They puncture, also, the wall which binds my soul from hope.
For a moment, it's as if we're near, my hand so near to Yours.
Yet when I look down, there is a crimson separation.
The nail, from my hand to yours, demands blood.
As sign of Your life surfaces and begins to trickle down, I am alarmed by an unexpected glance at Light.
It is piercing through that wall, through a small breech, straight into my soul, and I feel warmth.
I feel it now in my eyes; I cannot hold it back.
As I aim the second spike, and place it so carefully into Your flesh, I begin to tremble.
I can bear it no longer--into Your eyes I glance.
All at once, I am vulnerable.
My tears sting my eyes. They flow warmly down my face.
They fall to Your arm, mixing with Your spilled blood.
Though I could not see it until now, I now see, we are united.
Separated by this nail; brought together in Your blood.
Yet Your agony does not cease, nor does Your inflicter relent.
Slowly, as to not be overcome by this trembling, I rise to my feet. I release my gavel and it falls to my side.
I walk only a small distance from You, and I pick up the rope.
For the first time, and only for a moment, I see those standing around me. They, too, shed their tears.
With all of my might, I pull the rope.
Your cross begins to rise.
Your eyes peer down into mine.
Yet I see no hatred. I see no regret in Your gaze.
My sobs have become uncontrollable.
Only as soon as I can secure my rope to its peg, do I fall to my knees.
Slowly I drag myself to the foot of Your cross. I place my hand down to keep myself upright.
I place it straight into Your pool of blood.
Staring now at my blood-soaked hand, I see this invaluable mixture of Your blood and my tears.
Our unity.
Your crimson sacrifice, my inability, my relent.
I can go no further. I stop here at Your cross.
This is where I dwell.
The only place where my vulnerability may be met by Your grace.


"If we have been united with Him like this in His death, we will certainly also be united with Him in His resurrection." Romans 6:5

It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!

Two years ago to this day, Grayson Lynum took me hiking in the Vernon Marsh, a beautiful wetland--the same one he took me hiking in to ask me to date him. This time, just like the fist, he built me a fire. This time, like the first, he asked me a big question. But this one was a bit weightier than the first. And this time, unlike the first, he placed a beautiful gold ring on my hand.

That ring makes me smile to this day when I glance down at it. And behind it lays a simple golden band. It's a simple symbol signifying an ever-increasing devotion I have to my husband. An ever-increasing love.

It's incredible the amount of life you can live in the span of two years, and how very different that life can develop than first expected. Here I am, two years later, married to my best friend, and 6 months pregnant with our son. God has brought us so far in our marriage, our schooling, our church, and our pursuit of ministry.

But today I am thinking also about how far God has brought me in my relationship to Him in the past two years. I am ever thankful for the growth He has produced within me. Today I wrote a paper for class on what it has means to me, in my life, to be "complete in Christ".

"and in Him you have been made complete" (Colossians 2:10)

I am fully complete. He has fully reconciled me that I have complete access to Himself and all the riches of Christ. Hope. Glory. Peace. Joy. Goodness. Strength. Victory. These are all presently mine in Christ! The potential I have in Him is complete fullness. My life is hidden within Him, and I am secure because of that. I am safe and secure in my future glory with Him. As well, I am safe and secure in my life here on earth, because it is founded in Him. I can live fully victorious in Him! I am no longer enslaved to my old sinful nature. Instead, I can live fully aware of all I have in Christ. In His power I live identified with Christ in newness of life!


Two years is a short time. The past two have been packed full of life! And I have a feeling this is still just the beginning.....