Everyone poops.

I am a fighter. So many times throughout my life people have used the word "strong" to describe me. Not in the muscle category (now that's hilarious), but an inner strength that continues on when life throws curve balls my way. I am a living, breathing example that God does indeed give strength to the weak. I am thankful. As Christians we're promised that when we are weak, we become strong.

In the past few months, however, I've come to realize how quickly a strong person can become weak when life feels unsafe. To anyone who has ever walked through the deep, dark hole of depression, you know, depression sucks! However, even while walking through gloomy valleys, I am being stretched and being taught. It is for His great love for me, I am blessed.

Y-e-a-r-s ago, when life was chaotic at home, I found refuge at church. Often times, Pastor would open the doors at night and lock us in to sleep in the sanctuary, just to feel safety. The peace of God was so real and close there.

As I've grown as a Christian, I know that the "church" isn't just a building, but people. Jesus lives in our hearts if we invite Him in. I'm not talking here about a particular church, or people group, but God's Church. The Church, as a whole.

Recently, my safety net was shaken. I read the following sentence (by Lisa Whittle) and it reminded me...

Safety. Trust. Jesus people. Sadly they don't always go together.


I continue to ponder that thought. I can sit in the very room and experience church happening, yet feel unsafe by wondering what is being said about me behind my back. I can walk into a restaurant and see two christian friends sipping coffee and feel as if they wanted to get together without me to talk about me. Could this be because I was hurt in the past? Could I feel this way because of wounds that go deep. Sure. But feeling this way is unsafe, unhealthy, and ugly.

I began to realize the error of my ways. God wants me to be dependent on HIM! Not a building, not on people, not on friends, not on food, not on money, not on anything else but HIM. He loves me. He LOVES me!!!! HE LOVES ME!!!!!!!

People will hurt us, even Christian people. Friends will hurt us, even Christian friends. We are commanded to forgive and I'm thinking it might be much easier if we don't set our expectations so high to begin with. Here's a secret - everyone poops (even Pastor's)!!

I think that as 'the church' we sometimes think that we are this elite group of people that go around being all high and mighty. WE ARE NOT! We have no right to judge or gossip. We are called to be salt and light.

No one is exempt from this ick called 'sin', therefore, no one is exempt from this beauty called grace. All that is required is to ask Jesus to come and live in our hearts.

I will be the first to admit that I have battle scars - wounds I wear because of people who have hurt me. But doesn't Jesus have scars too? He does. In fact, He wears scars from my sins.

If our safety net is wrapped up in a particular church, friendship, job, or relationship, let's not be surprised when the tree shakes. God really does love us and have our best interest in mind. Let us put our trust in Him.

My Andy

It's been a couple weeks since I've written. Class reunion, followed by my baby's 17th birthday. Living Life. Living a thankful life. Some days not as I would have written them, but nonetheless, I'm learning to be at peace, to be thankful for the little, for the plenty and for the small.

A couple days ago, my MIL took a tumble. She ended up in the hospital with a broken wrist, elbow, and neck. I've had time to reflect. A lot of time. My mind swarms with questions, fear, doubt, mercy, love, gratitude. I have had to choose which emotions to pick up and carry.

I watch my husband, her son: Strong. Hard working. Wise. Thinker. Full of mercy.

I practice thoughts and words, both spoken outside my head; he is a man of few words. I write; he processes. I cry; he plays angry birds. I am messy; he is neat. I do laundry monthly; he every week. I am complex; he is simple. I am woman; he is not. We are a perfect pair.

In the short year and 11 months we have been married, this dear man has been dealt situation after situation. Event after event. I have yet to hear him complain. Nope not once. He is a man of few words. He is my man of few words. Men of few words are the best men.


In the words of Ann Voskamp:

"Love needs few words, it only needs will.

The words that matter most are the ones that we live and you teach me how to write a love letter.

I lay down my pen.

I long to write you real words.


Your very lives are a letter that anyone can read by just looking at you. Christ himself wrote it — not with ink, but with God’s living Spirit; not chiseled into stone, but carved into human lives…"


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