First Comes Hunger, Then Comes a Filling

Here we are: March of 2022 is coming to a close. The first three months of this year have been such a whirlwind for me. Work, travel, working out, church, and trying to be social have been on high speed. If I’m being honest, the last year has hovered at that speed. Don’t get me wrong. I love having a full and active life, but I can sometimes find fulfillment in the busyness. I can even find my identity in it as well.

The more I live in this rhythm, the more I want to live in this rhythm, and the easier it becomes to do so. It very much becomes an insatiable hunger. The past couple of years have been a huge opportunity to set aside every distraction in order to set my gaze upon Christ, but in so many ways, I fell short and missed much of the opportunity. Along with keeping myself busy, I took many occasions to mindlessly numb out and disconnect from life.

My church recently had a conference called The Presence of God Conference. With a name like that, the expectation was set really high. The guest pastor recounted many stories of how God ushered in a mighty revival in his dad’s church throughout much of his childhood. That powerful move of God marked his life in every way. This pastor, now in his seventies, had witnessed the Lord show up in more ways than he could remember. He repeatedly teared up in awe and wonder of what the Lord had done in his life. And it was simply from an overflow of spending intimate and consistent time with Him.

Hearing this convicted me. I began to reflect on the past year, and I realized that my hunger for God had waned significantly. I’d allowed myself to be satisfied with temporary and frivolous pleasures.

To read the rest, join me over at Incourage!

On Hitting Walls, Being Vulnerable, and the Power of Praise

I won’t sugarcoat the last few months. They’ve been hard. In some ways, I can pinpoint what’s made them so hard — funerals, family drama, extreme fatigue and pain in my body. On the other hand, there have been many days when I’ve woken up with a sense of dread for no reason. I’ve battled severe anxiety and depression. Fear has gripped me unlike any other time in my life. I’ve felt hopeless and on edge.

Do you know who I told about all the things? Absolutely no one.

Now, I love people. Community is my jam. And I know we’re better together. But I have a confession: More often than I care to admit it, I find myself living as an island. I suffer in silence. I have this need for people to think I can handle anything, that I can take care of myself by myself. I don’t want them to think I’m needy. I don’t do this intentionally. I’ve just always lived this way and have been slow in growing to express my need for God or others.

Though the Lord is working on me with this, I recently fell into isolation, avoidance, and withdrawal again. I completely shut down. I was overwhelmed in every way, and I couldn’t help myself. Before I knew it, it had been months since I’d talked to dear friends. In my everyday and at church, I was simply going through the motions.

I eventually hit a wall and broke down. I knew I needed to be honest with God and with the people in my life. I knew I needed to be vulnerable, even though I have the nagging fear that if I’m 100 percent forthcoming, I won’t be accepted or loved. I’m sure many of you face the same fears — of being left alone and rejected — and shame keeps us in an unending loop of insecurity.

At church, my pastor has been preaching on the power of praise and how the body of Christ needs each other. For months, I had been listening and taking notes, but I felt disconnected to the truths of God’s Word because I was focusing on my circumstances. But slowly, God has been lifting the veil to help me see His goodness, kindness, and faithfulness again, and as He did, I saw I had been missing the very things that I had been learning through my pastor’s sermons.

To read the rest, join me over at (in)courage!