Blessing and Choices


Blessing and Choices

Today, I have been blessed.

Do you ever get that feeling where someone says the exact thing you needed to hear, but up until that point, had been too blind to listen to? We’re at that moment world. The moment of moving on, accepting the truth, and rolling with the punches. What a beautiful gift.

Anyways, Lynn always says it how it is. It’s peace to my soul. I like the feeling of being able to trust in what a person says, not just because it takes a moment to force yourself to listen better, but because they really do know better than you. I would have never probably have said that last week, but you guys, there are loads of people who know better than me in this world, and that isn’t just given, it’s exciting.

So. My heart changed a little today. It’s not because I couldn’t accept the truth before, but some truths are very hard. My love is too precious to ration out. I need to grow into the next step.

You know, nobody ever tells you how hard a lot of things are, in life. It’s an understood thing (after a person has understood something), that a lot of hard knocks just become understood through living them. I think it’s good that way, otherwise no one would ever learn. If there is anything I have learned from listening to God this week and observing the forgiven failures of the past, it is that my friends are really quality people, and God is so much bigger than I could have ever believed even yesterday. He is just too big to ever really understand, and that is peace like I would have never believed. I love how I can spend time in scripture and immediately have a better day. I love that I can ask for help whenever I need it. I love that he cares, when it feels like no one possible could. There is a certain amount of grace that feels steeped into your bones, after a while. The grace is an attitude that becomes easier to put on, like putting on strength. My church has been so wonderful in helping me grow with God, and there is a genuine sense of home there. It is nice to have somewhere to belong.

There is a noticeable difference when a person listens to you, and although they may doubt you, they walk with you, than if they listen to you and stop listening once they assume that you may be wrong. Not only does it imply an enormous amount of respect to listen to a person who you know to be wrong or to be scared or hurt, and thus, speaking from pain more than true insight, but it takes a certain amount of risk by the listener. For whatever reason, listening in the first place to anyone can feel uncomfortable, but intentionally listening when it is just for the sake of listening and knowing that it will help that other person you care about is even trickier. Love is like that.

The world doesn’t owe us explanations. Christ provides justification for those who believe in him. It seems like a lot of understanding comes after the fact, but if understanding came as linearly as its human expectations, then I truly doubt it would exist at all. Humanity is sloppy. It is what it is.

Lynn spoke of something that is actually really important, in the context of all this greater love: the process of being born again. It’s like a new chance. New life. Taking up your own cross, and following Christ. The whole point of accepting a greater love is because you can. He changes you if you let him, and sometimes I forget that a lot of the things I used to worry about are completely irrelevant anymore; it’s like they’ve been made null and void by the mere action of his forgiveness. I’ve said a lot of things lately that are rather stupid, given the gifts he’s given me. Either way, the redemption there is just as limitless as the love, and although I’ve asked for direction 1000+ times instead of just going in the direction that is clearly glaring me in the face, with a love like his, I’m not sure it makes all that much of a difference.

Failure is more like a running somersault than falling on your butt, if you have this kind of grace. It’s like mid-air acrobatics, and having a greater force ready to catch you. If Jesus knows every tear and misstep that a person has endured, do you think he would be able to construct a better account of reality for us all, when it all comes to an end? I sure hope so. Try as I might, all of it just seems indefinitely one-sided, and vague beyond human-recognition. So be it. It isn’t mine to begin with.

There is a certain point where the right way presents itself without any extra fuss, and we refuse to see it. Like scratching up an invisible wall, our only choice is to keep going, or to remain immobile; furiously in the way of the wind. The longer you stand there, the worse it seems to get. Breathing is so much easier with a little momentum. The truth comes out eventually, if you allow it to. Unfortunately, not all of us can accept it, once it does.

Even the things that we know surely do us harm seem to pale in an instant, if we give God jurisdiction over all of it. It’s like taking a Cheerio out of your bowl and into the ocean. Good luck trying to equivocate over that, once it’s lost across the waves. If a fish or bird thing doesn’t get it first, then at least you’ll know that it is so far lost that it is irrelevant whether or not it does anyone any real good. In so many spaces that don’t truly feel comfortable or safe, there are often these weird undertones of divinity that seem like traces in the sand. When goodness seems gone and the right choices distorted, sometimes the easiest thing to do is be silent, still, and ask him to help you see. Apart from that, it’s a game of waiting it out, not so that time can irreverently tick by, but so that you can muster the trust it takes to acknowledge whatever truth has been rendered vague and blurry. No matter how many action-sounding words I may use in this paragraph, or in life, the reality is that Christ is the one that provides all of this. Any kind of participation on our part is more like a party favor than a right or obligation, and how freaking blessed the world is and will be for it.

In Daniel, and Hosea, and Revelation, and a lot of the prophets, scripture talks about how people of inequity will flee to the hills and to the caves of mountains, when the entire world hits the fan in the final days. They will call upon the cliffs and rocks to hide them from the wrath of God, scripture says. Scripture warns against fleeing from God, yet in our lives, how often do we run from him? If we are so surely shaken, as the earth shifts beneath our feet, can we really claim that our weight is carried by him, instead of shifting it from one foot to another? With enough seismic activity, we’d all stumble and fall to the ground anyway; either that or be crushed. Can we truly claim that our lives carry the purpose we crave, if we don’t have deep roots? You have to know the vine to understand it, or to bear its fruit. You have to align your heart to the path of God if you want to see any true peace in your life, because such peace comes from grace. I don’t want to run, if the ground shifts under my feet. This swirling orchestra of sights, sounds, and nonsenses swirling around my head, and blessed as he has made me, I choose him.


Published by


I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s