Admiring Grace

I’ve had a rather horrid realization: Just because someone already loves Jesus doesn’t mean I stop being a witness. The terrible part is I haven’t been living up to that. I tend to assume that my behavior around and toward my Christian friends can be different because “they know what I mean” or “they understand me” so much better than others or “they’ll forgive me.” More often than not all three are true. But what excuse is that? So often I am captured by how I feel and made slave to it by my own will. I hold on to how I feel and project it however I see fit. I don’t wait to see if it is beneficial. I just do it. Nike would be proud. Jesus isn’t. I heard my uncle talk about the churches in Kenya. They have this saying called the “Monday Church.” They say that to remind the Body of Christ that it isn’t just Sunday we are the bride of Christ but at all times in all things. I originally thought it was such a cool movement. Go Kenya! It hit me that I don’

Last week I went out with a friend. We were talking and getting the other caught up with the details of our lives. It was a whole lot of fun. I love conversations like those. I love friends who will talk like that. Then I got asked a big question, What are you good at? And I didn’t know. See, we were discussing our futures and our answers to the “what’s next?” questions that come after college graduation. I threw my plans under the bus that night. Because that’s not what I want. But my problem is: I don’t really know what I want. What are you good at? I’ve been thinking about that question all week. Truth is, I’m good at a lot of things. I just don’t know where I fit best. I have yet to find the place where the world’s deep need and my deep gladness meet. (Frederick Beucher uses the juxtaposition to define vocational calling) Two days after this conversation I sat at my cousin’s wedding. It was beautiful in every way. And I sat watching my other cousins w

I can write just about anything. Especially when it comes to the important things. I can post it here or write a letter or keep my thoughts in my journal. I can’t say it though. Especially the important things. My brain stops working and my tongue freezes up and nothing happens. I’m all-of-the sudden passive. And I just let the moment pass because that’s how time works and life changes quickly. I have let a year’s worth of moments pass . And I’ll never get them back. All the times I could-have-should-have-meant-to slipped by without my permission. Until here I am sure that since I can’t go back in time the forward is forever changed. So I tried to do other things and switch-up my focus. Anything to not waste more of my time. But my gaze always slides back. Or over. Or wherever just for a glimpse. I’ve let good things pass by because I can’t, won’t move farther away. I’ll move away all right, but only so far. Until I loose sight then one, two steps back an