The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor;

he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives,

and the opening of the prison to those who are bound. – Isaiah 61:1

Today we celebrate the day that defines every other day. We rejoice in the greatest victory ever won. We exalt our Savior for his triumph over the things we could never hope to overcome – sin and death.

Today we are reminded of God’s love, of His sacrifice, and of His power.

For the believer, this is the ultimate picture of our faith – the foundation we stand on, as I was reminded of in Sunday School this morning. It is a promise that we can hold onto, knowing that our redemption has been paid for and our sins washed away by the precious blood of Jesus.

And for the non believer it is hope for redemption and restoration. It stands for the power of life over death, healing over disease, and victory over sin.

It is the day that will define all lives, if not now, then in eternity.

It is the day when Jesus paid the price to open the door to every prison that holds us captive. Every chain, every prison bar, every locked door is powerless when faced with our Savior.

He steps forward and opens the doors to freedom. He opens doors of sin, fear, sickness, doubt, depression, addiction, bitterness, and pain and proclaims liberty in the face of the chains that we find ourselves tangled in.

And here is the beauty, we just have to walk out. He looked at us in the mess we put ourselves in and he made a way to bring us out. Because we couldn’t. We were unable to open the doors, but he can and he did.

And I think sometimes, we set in our prisons long after he has provided the way out because of our own stubbornness. Maybe we are too fearful to believe it’s for us. Maybe we feel too guilty to accept the gift he gives. Maybe we are too proud to admit that we don’t want to sit here any more.

But today, he wants you to know that he has opened the door to your prison – whatever it is. You can walk out of there to freedom and victory.

Why?

Because He is Risen.

He is Risen!

The morning was just beginning to peek through the dark recesses of the night as the women began to make their way across the town. The darkness of the night seemed to linger in the hearts of the women. Three days of mourning had left them weary. Their eyes were swollen from countless tears and it seemed as if the weight of the world was resting on their shoulders.

Their Savior was gone.

The One who had brought new life into their hearts was dead. Their deliverer was defeated. Their hope had been broken on the cross three days before.

But as the dawn prepared to break through the night’s shadows, the women saw something they did not expect.

The stone was gone from the tomb and so was Jesus.

In disbelief and fear, they stared at the angel standing where they expected the body of their Lord to be. And that’s when they heard him say the words that would change the world forever.

“Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said“(Matthew 28:6, ESV).

As the first rays of the sun ripped away the dark, the women realized a truth that would restore their hope.

Jesus had kept his promise.

And this is what I want you to grasp on to today. Jesus always keeps his promises. It’s a simple thought, almost child-like really. But it is a truth that can turn our fear to faith, our doubt to hope, and our mourning to praise.

It’s a truth that enables us to believe that what He has said will come to pass.

When He says He will be with you always, you can trust that He is walking with you when no one else is. When he says “he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9), you can believe that the only one who views you through the mistakes of your past is yourself. In his eyes, you’re cleansed. When he promises to meet all your needs, you can rest assured that your Jehovah Jireh sees you and will provide.

You see, there is something about our God that sets him apart. He is not only willing to keep his promises, but he is able. Our omnipotent Creator is more than able to fulfill the Word he has spoken. His power is not limited and he does not grow weary, but he is more than enough to meet your needs.

So, if you are holding onto to his promises, do not let go because not even death could stop our King of Kings from rising.

Our Promise Keeper never fails.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. -Ecclesiastes 3:1

Spring is right around the corner with the promise of new life and warm weather. Soon, we will tell winter goodbye and say hello to the new season. But for now, it seems as if we are simply suspended between the two – spring is tugging at us, but winter is not quite ready to let go. So we wake up each morning – unsure if we should grab our coat or our rain boots – waiting for the world to make up its mind.

Similarly, the seasons of life do not always flow smoothly from one day to the next. We understand the necessity, even the purpose of most seasons. After all, there must be a time to laugh and a time to cry. We need times to plant as well as to harvest. Sometimes we must speak and sometimes we must remain silent. And we even understand that we must have times of life and times of death. But there is one season that often leaves us feeling confused – the season of waiting.

Times of transition between seasons of my life leave me feeling purposeless. It’s as if I am hanging suspended in midair, longing to take the leap to the next step, but being held back by something. It is not that I do not want to take that step, but I am unable to. This spot is where I find myself today. I am in time of waiting in my life. I am praying for the will of God, seeking His direction; and mostly, I am waiting. And I feel as if I am spinning, spinning, spinning – and getting no where. I feel the Lord moving in me. I know He is stirring things in my heart and yet I am still waiting.

But the Lord directed my heart to this passage in Ecclesiastes today and one word jumped out at me – purpose. You see, the Lord does nothing without purpose. It is not that He is lazy or forgetful and simply has not put in the effort to move me past this season yet. No, if I am in a season of waiting, then I am in a season with purpose.

Let that sink in.

Your season of waiting is still a season with purpose.

It may not make sense to you. It may not make sense to those around you, but it makes sense to God. The almighty Creator, the omnipotent King, the Alpha and Omega looks at your life in this moment and sees a purpose. Now, whether or not you are fulfilling that purpose is entirely your choice, but He has a purpose for where He has you at this moment.

David writes in the Psalms that, “The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me” (Psalm 138:8 ESV).

This verse gives me encouragement when I think of the burdens that the Lord has laid on my heart since I was a young girl. I am sure that many of us have held on to the hope that He will complete the work He has started in us.

But what about today’s purpose?

Think of David. He was prophesied to be the anointed king of Israel – the leader of God’s chosen people. And yet we find him playing the harp for the callous Saul to soothe his soul. We find him slaying a giant for the people he will one day rule. We see him fighting in and leading armies for the God of Israel. We do not read of a slothful man, but a man that made the most of each day he was given.

David found purpose in the waiting.

He saved the lives of his people without a crown when he slung that slingshot. He led armies to victory before anyone bowed down to him. He used the moments to learn and to grow. He chose to live a life worthy of being the king before it ever happened. And I believe that each purpose he found brought him one step closer to being the man God intended to be king.

So this is my challenge today, and it is more to myself than to anyone else.

Find purpose in your waiting.

Because I can promise you it is there.

 

 

After this Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias, and he revealed himself in this way. Simon Peter, Thomas (called the Twin), Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. -John 21:1-3 ESV

Peter is fishing again. Not for souls, but for fish. Nets, boats, and oars replace the tools of faith, hope, and the Word of God that he has used for the past 3 years. He has returned to his old life with an ease that probably surprises even himself. His hands, though slightly shaky, cast the nets and direct the boats as if he never left. The water hits his face and he pushes forward with ease. He knows what he is doing here. He knows what’s expected of him here. He knows he can do what is required of him here.

The “spiritual” side of me – that part that has been in church my whole life and knows the right words to say – wants to condemn Peter for his foolish return to his old life. Is he really going to go back? He has lived and communed with Christ for three years. He has miracle after miracle – blind eyes have opened, lame men have walked, the possessed have been set free, and 5000 have been fed with a small lunch. He has seen the Savior’s grace extended from the rich to the poor, the great to the small. He has watched the Messiah, his friend and leader, die and then he has seen him alive and victorious once again. He cannot really think that the life of a fishermen will satisfy him now. He cannot think that this will be enough. How could he go back? I want to shake my head at him.

In reality, however, I can see myself in Peter. His life has been a roller coaster since the young Galilean carpenter called his name. He has seen things he never dreamed of and been places he never thought he would go. He has experienced deep loss and sorrow followed by the greatest triumph the world has ever known. And I imagine that Peter is overwhelmed. He cannot fully comprehend all that is going on around him. He knows that Christ is back, and his life is going to change. But likely, he is terrified. And in the midst of all of this, he returns to the one thing he knows he is good at.

After all, everyone knows he is the smart mouth who speaks and acts too quickly. He himself knows he is the one that denied the one person who had looked passed his failures to his potential. He cannot do what is required. So he runs. He runs to the comfortable, the familiar, the easy.

And it brings him nothing. All night he toils. All night he works at the one thing he is supposed to be good at. The one thing that he knows. And he accomplishes nothing.

That is, until they hear the voice of the Savior call to them. Only when they follow his directions do things begin to change.

And as I look at this story, I see myself. And maybe, you see yourself too. I imagine I am not the only one who runs to familiar, the comfortable, when I am overwhelmed. It is so easy to fall back on the things that we find easy when God’s plan for us seems too difficult. And it’s not even necessarily that the things we fall back on our sin or evil. I mean fishing is a valid occupation. But it was not Peter’s calling. He was replacing God’s plan for him with his own safe plan. And when he returned to it to find comfort and peace of mind, he neglected the One who could do just that.

And that’s where I find myself so often, searching for my joy, my peace, my victory in things that were never designed to give me any of those. Often, I throw myself into a busy schedule, only creating a more exhaused, more weary self – instead of seeking help from the One who knows me.

And I’m sure, I am not the only one who does this. I won’t guess at what it is that you throw yourself into, because you and the Lord already know, but I would encourage you to turn to the Lord first.

Peter did the opposite, and he found out the hard way that only Jesus would give him what he needed. Don’t waste a night toiling in the waves, struggling to do it on your own. Don’t let your pride or your fear push you toward comfort and away from the Comforter.

Because there is something about coming to Jesus weary and heavy laden and recieving His rest that is unexplainable.

I don’t know how He does it-how he takes an overhwhelmed, bleeding heart and fills it with joy and peace-but he has done it for me countless time. Over and over, He has shown me that only He will satisfy. He has filled me with joy in dark hours, peace when I should be stressed out of my mind, and hope I didn’t know I could have. Jesus has been everything I need, and He will be for you if you only ask.

I’ll finish with this. Pauls write in Philippians 3:13-14

 Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead,  I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

And this is my goal, to press forward because what is promised to me is is worth so much more than what I leave behind.

 

 

A scar is a wound that has healed. – Phil Moreino

There is a question that’s been playing in my mind for the past few days. One of the ladies in Sunday school asked it this past Easter morning. Essentially, it boiled down to this.

“Why did Jesus keep the scars?”

If we are going to have new bodies in heaven and Christ had returned with a glorified body, why was he not made whole? He had the power to erase the evidence of the agonizing death he had endured, but he kept them.

It has been burning in my heart and replaying in my mind as I have tried to understand why Christ kept these painful reminders. Some might say it was to prove that he was himself to doubting Thomas and countless others. While I believe that this may be true, I don’t think that is the end of the story.

I have a couple of scars, and to be honest, they are not things I am proud of. I don’t try to show them off or flaunt them. In fact, I try to hide them when I can. Most often, they are just simply proof of my inherent clumsiness and aptitude for hurting myself. I have one from a minor surgery that only brings back unpleasant memories of needles and grouchy doctors. They are nothing to flaunt, and when I get to heaven they are not something I will miss.

For many of us our scars are simply reminders of painful events and uncomfortable circumstances that we would rather not be reminded of. It reminds us of our vulnerability. And although I often hear the term “battle scars” proudly waved around, sometimes it would be easier to not have that reminder.

But Jesus chose to keep his scars. He held onto the very thing that would daily remind him of the excruciating pain and shameful treatment that he had endured. While I don’t pretend to know the mind of our Savior, I do believe that there is a clear message for us here.

See scars are so often seen as a negative thing. They represent our pain and mortality. But not Christ’s scars.

Christ’s scars represent life. They represent victory. Freedom. Hope. Healing. Joy. Strength. Peace. Salvation.

I believe that Christ gave us a precious gift in keeping those scars. When my heart is heavy, I reach for those precious nail scarred hands like Thomas did. When I fear for the future, I hold on tightly. When I am overwhelmed, I run my fingers across those palms. And that scar – that wound that is healed – reminds me that Christ has won my victory. Death fought my Savior and lost. Sin tried to hold him down and was defeated. He is my victorious Savior.

See, I am not a conquering hero. I am weak. I allow myself to be overhwhelmed, and too often I fail. I look in my heart and I see scars that I would love to erase. Scars of hurts. Scars of regret. Scars of bitterness. But then I see my Jesus, and I see the scars in his hands and I am reminded that He has set me free from all of that. He has made me whole.

 

Today, let him hold your hand and know that He has won your victory.

 

Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me. -Isaiah 49:16

In Isaiah’s day, the Israelites were faced with a city that was only a shadow of its former self. A city that had been conquered and destroyed by an enemy they despised. A city whose walls were broken. A city whose people were beginning to doubt that their God even cared.

But in the middle of this destruction, in the middle of the rubble, the Lord reminds them of something that was so basic, but so difficult for them to grasp. He told them, I see you. I see what you’re going through and I haven’t forgotten you.

So that meant, in the rubble, in the destruction, in the difficulty, God was working.

The past few days, it seems that all I have seen around me has been rubble, destruction, pain, difficulty. It seems everywhere I’ve turned, I’ve watched the enemy conquer and destroy. I’ve watched video after video be released about babies – precious, beautiful, unborn babies – being murdered in brutal ways and sold for a profit by people who can talk about it with less emotion than they talk about the weather. I’ve seen news report after news report of our police forces being killed and disrespected and laughed at. I’ve seen black men kill white men and white men kill black men. I’ve listened to people tell me what “real” love is, when my Savior already showed me what love looks like. I’ve watched a woman be put in jail for standing for her beliefs in a country founded upon religious freedom. I’ve heard news of children being martyred for refusing to deny their faith and can’t help but weep as a think of how scared they must have been, but how brave they chose to be for their Savior.

I listen to our politicians rant about trivial issues and skim over the ones that matter. I find more articles on what the Kardashians are wearing than I do about Planned Parenthood or ISIS or anything else really matters. I watch as America tries to close our eyes and ears to what’s going on around us, desperate to pretend like everything is okay. And I say that because I’m guilty of that very same thing. I’m guilty of surrounding myself with people that make me feel good and feeding myself garbage that numbs my emotions to the reality of what’s going on because when I start to think about it I begin to feel overwhelmed.

Because if I’m honest, I can see that our walls are rubble. The faith that once held them up has dwindled to something so weak that they have collapsed. The prayer and strength and principles that were once such a firm part of everyday life are nowhere to be found and I think we are just a shadow of what we once were.

But God, in His infinite love, reminds His people once again that He has not forgotten them. He reminds me, in my weakness and doubts, in my apathy and laziness, that He sees and He knows.

And I’m reminded that even when it looks like the enemy has triumphed, God is working. Even in the darkest moments, in the deepest pits, in the dirtiest places, He sees us. And our broken walls are continually before Him. And the fact that the Creator of the Universe would see my broken walls, as hideous and useless as they are and choose to look instead of turning away in disgust is something I can hardly comprehend. Because we tend to see broken things as invaluable or too much work or not worth our time. We want to see something whole and perfect. But God is different than us. I think He looks at our rubble and begins to picture what it could be. He sees how it can be redeemed for His purposes.

He sees our walls not for what they were or what they are, but for what they will be. He sees the potential. We try to live in the glory days but the One who holds the future has plans we can’t imagine. And that makes all the difference.

Today my heart is heavy. I’ve tried to wrap my mind around the ideas and the philosophies of this world and I can’t understand.

55 million. 55 million.

That is the number of children aborted in the United States since the Roe v. Wade ruling in 1973.

55 million children.

I say children, because that is what they are. Precious, beautiful, God-given children. They may be unwanted, unplanned, or unprotected but they are still children. They are children who never got the chance to grow up. Children who’s little fingers never got to shakily press out twinkle twinkle little star on the piano. Children who’s feet never kicked the soccer ball or danced across the living room. They are little girls who never felt their daddy’s arms and little boys who never wrapped their arms around their mother’s legs. Their little eyes never saw the brilliance of the colors of a rainbow or the dizzying stripes of the zebra or the beauty of the trees in the fall. Their mouth never whispered bedtime prayers or sang silly songs driving down the road or lit up the room with their unabashed, innocent smile.

They were children. Children with brilliant minds. Children with kind hearts. Outgoing children. Shy children. Feisty children and goofy children. Children with futures.

55 million futures stolen.

Stolen. With permission from our government. At least if I steal your car or your wallet, I am punished for it. I go to jail. I pay a fine. I face my consequences. The government tells me I’m wrong and that it’s unacceptable to take what is not mine. And I can try to tell them that they are violating my rights. That it is my right to have your car or wallet because that makes me happy and keeps me safe. Because I need a car to go to work and I need money to pay for gas to go to work, that way I can live a happy life. But they will tell me that yes, it is my right to pursue happiness, but that when this causes me to steal what belongs to you and violates your personal rights, then I’m wrong. That is the law. That is justice. That is fair. No one would argue that I should be able to steal something that belongs to you simply because I’m trying to improve my own life.

So why does our government tell us that it is okay, no that it is our right, to steal the future of children in order to improve our own lives? When we allow abortion, we allow the future to be ripped from our children. We allow their future first kiss to be stolen. And their future high school graduation and their future talents and even their future failures that turn into future lessons. We allow them to be stolen because we are so busy defending our rights.

But it seems to me that we only defend the rights of those who are loud enough to be heard because the children in the womb who don’t have a voice to defend themselves have been stripped of their rights. And so it is left to those of us with voices to defend their rights.

Abortion is not okay. It’s wrong. It is the destruction of the innocent and helpless and if that doesn’t break your heart then your heart is far too hard. Recent studies show that 95% of women say they don’t feel guilty over their abortion, but that they only feel relief and that they’ve made the right decision. I don’t know if I can believe that, but if it’s true, then the world is farther gone than I thought. This suggests a selfishness and a hardness in our generation that is sobering. Our culture, by destroying the precious innocence of children is destroying the vulnerability, the softness of women – the part that makes them able to defend the weak and love so deeply.

55 million

It’s a staggering figure. So many children are already gone and so many women have already made their decision, their “choice.” But to the others who are struggling with the idea of the precious gift inside of them, please realize who you were made to be. You were made to be brave. You were made to be strong. And even though the world tells you that taking your child’s life is brave, I beg to differ. To raise a child in this world, that’s brave. To stand against society’s idea of who you should be and how you should live, that’s brave. To protect the life within you, that’s takes strength.

And to those who have already given up the precious gift they were given, there is grace for you. I know that society tells you that you have to be hard and tough and look out for number 1, but my Savior wants you to know that it’s okay to come to Him broken and fearful and hurting. He wants you to pour out your heart to Him.  He wants to see the deepest wounds and scars that you’ve kept hidden for so long so that He can heal them.

55 million is a big number. It stands for loss and death and stolen futures, but in the middle of each story is a chance for redemption. No, the past cannot be undone, but the future can be redeemed.

“To me, a lady is not frilly, flouncy, flippant, frivolous and fluff-brained, but she is gentle, she is gracious, she is godly and she is giving. You and I have the gift of femininity… the more womanly we are, the more manly men will be and the more God is glorified. Be women, be only women, be real women in obedience to God.” – Elisabeth Elliot

What does it mean to be a woman? If ever our society has wrestled over a question, it is this one at this very moment. Our culture has attempted to define and redefine who or what a woman is. Is she reflected in the lives of shallow celebrities who clothe themselves in the latest, skimpiest fashions and regurgitate the same garbage in every interview that the media tries to feed us everyday? Is that what a woman was designed to be?

What does it mean to be a woman?

Do surgeries and facelifts and hair extensions make you a woman? Because right now, this world is telling us that it does. It’s telling us that you can choose to be a woman, that anyone out there has the right to be a woman. And society throws a fist in the air, because we’re all about our “rights.” But what about the baby unborn, the young woman not yet seen but already unwanted, where was her right to be a woman? Or do your rights only count if your voice is loud enough and your fist hard enough?

I know this is not popular. I know this is not fun or easy, but this is real. To me, being a woman is a right. It’s my right. But before it was my right, it was a God-given gift. In the same way that God gave men the gift of masculinity, He gave us women the gift of femininity. It was a gift designed by our Creator with purpose. And somehow, along the way, we have let society slowly rob us of this precious gift.

Women around the world have been told a list of everything wrong about them. Too loud. Too quiet. Too harsh. Too soft. Too fat. Too skinny. Not smart enough. Not old enough. Not young enough. Too smart for their own good. Not pretty enough. Too dependent on others. Too independent.

And what is left is a generation of women who don’t know what it means to be a woman anymore. Insecure, hurting and full of questions they stand there. And society, of course, has taken advantage of this and rushed in with their own answers. They have told them that women are hard and angry, that they push their way to the top, stepping on anyone in their way. Or they tell them that women are supposed to be provocative and easy. And they erase the softness, the grace that was theirs from the beginning.

And suddenly we have these two different words – woman v. lady.

And I wonder, shouldn’t they mean the same thing? Wasn’t every woman designed to be a lady?

And I know, people want to tell us that to be a lady is to be helpless and unimportant, but I think you underestimate the gift that God gave you.

Look at Ruth, feminine and graceful as the day is long, and yet a hard worker who determined to do what it took to make it.

Or what about Hannah who showed that to be a woman meant to be a prayer warrior.

Mary showed us that to be a woman does not mean that we will not be afraid at times, but that we can have the courage to surrender to the Lord’s plan despite the fear.

Or Rahab. Oh I love Rahab, because she showed us that being a woman does not necessarily mean that you have a perfect past. Sometimes it’s messy. But being a woman means that when you have the chance to walk away from that past towards the redemption God has for you, you take it and you bring as many as you can with you.

There are so many women who have lived and do live in the gift of femininity that God has given them. Elisabeth Elliot. Amy Carmichael. Even my mother, who shows me that being a woman involves a lot of hard work and loving everyone you come in contact with.

Because when it comes down to it, the gift of femininity is not a weakness. It’s not what this world tries to make it out to be.

To be a woman does not involve short skirts or heavy eyeliner. It doesn’t involve a flatter stomach or a thigh gap. It’s not about your achievement in education or your lack thereof.

No, it’s about living the life your Creator designed you for.

And He designed each and every woman with a purpose.

We were created to love and to love deeply. And I get it, in a world as harsh and twisted as ours, to open up your heart is a scary thing. It’s so much easier to close up. But ladies, you were designed to be brave. Because you will need all the strength and courage you have to be vulnerable. You will need grace and determination. But ladies, if you learn to accept the gift that your Creator has given you, you will change this world. Because love and gentleness and kindness and grace and vulnerability, they will open doors that nothing else can and you will reach hearts that a man could not.

So ladies, let the men be men. We need more good, godly men in this world.

But you, you be women. And never let this world steal the gift you have been given.

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. -Rom. 6:23

As I’m sure many of you know, the scandal of Josh Duggar’s past has recently become a obsession of the media. Now, I am not here to argue about the issue or to defend him or the media. But as I was reading an article this morning, a statement on the issue by Mike Huckabee jumped out at me. He stated that Josh’s actions were, in fact, inexcusable, but they were not unforgivable.

Inexcusable, but not unforgivable.

I have wrestled with this thought all day. That word, inexcusable, suggests that it cannot be simply ignored or not dealt with. Justice must be served. It cannot be excused. But we are after all the kings and queens of excuses. Or we attempt to be. We attempt to explain away our mistakes, to try to push them aside without facing repercussions.

But when it comes down to it, there are things in my life that are simply inexcusable.

Sometimes, I take a walk down memory lane and begin to look at my past failures. Failures of years gone by. Failures of yesterday. Failures of today. It is not a pretty sight. I see pride mixed with contempt. I see complacency. I see anger that grew into bitterness. I see lies. I see the inexcusable. It’s there, failure after failure after failure. The “big” sin. The “little” sin. The sins that I kept hidden in the recesses of my heart. It’s there.

And it is absolutely inexcusable.

And I stand before a holy God, a pure God, a just God. And I know, He cannot excuse it. It is against His very nature to excuse it. He cannot dismiss it as unimportant or turn His head as if He never saw it. To do so would be to destroy who He is. To allow an unholy, impure wretch such as myself to enter into His presence and experience fellowship with Him would never be compatible with His absolute holiness and righteous judgment.

But the fact that my past is inexcusable does not mean that it is unforgivable. My inexcusable sins have burdened me with a debt, a debt that is far beyond my reach and means.

But for them to be unforgivable would imply that there is no way for that debt to be paid. And up to this point, that would seem to be true. And it is, at least in and of myself.

But something happens when a sinner filled with the inexcusable meets the cleansing blood of a holy, righteous, Savior.

In this moment, the inexcusable is washed away. Not because it is dismissed, not because it is excused, not because it is unimportant, but because it is forgiven by the One who paid the price for the grace He so freely offers.

So yes, my past, my failures, my sins are absolutely inexcusable, but they are not unforgivable, because the blood of Jesus Christ can cleanse us from any sin and wash away every stain.

The steps of a good man [or woman] are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way – Ps. 37:21

My steps are ordered. Today, I need this reminder. I need to remember that this moment, this time, this step has divine purpose. The Creator of the Universe is arranging my life.

He is the omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, infinite Conductor of my finite life and I stare in wonder as He directs with precision and clear intention. With a flick of his wrist, He leads me this way and that. And the thought flashes through my mind, are You sure about that note? But before I can protest, the sweet melody fills the air and once again I am reminded that He knows exactly what He is doing.

He pulls in others, arranging them, allowing the melodies of our lives to swell in a beautiful crescendo that brilliantly and simply declares His glory. Through our eyes, it appears chaotic, maybe even disorderly. But in His eyes, it creates the song that He longs for His creation to sing, a song of redemption and victory, a song of sacrifice and love, a song of hope and grace.

And it is indescribable. It is a beautiful, breath-taking experience to watch as someone completely follows the Conductor, carefully noting every signal and direction He gives.

But there often comes a moment in any concert, when the conductor calls for silence, in the middle of the music, as it grows and the delight of the audience and the one’s performing increases, he brings the seemingly perfect melody to a halt.

The audience visibly gasps. They feel the loss of the beautiful music. Their ears long for the soothing relief of the orchestra’s artwork. The instrumentalists fingers itch to pluck their strings and fill the air with their work, but still they wait. With their eyes focused on the conductor, they sit, until, suddenly, the signal is given and with one accord, the powerful notes once again fill the room.The pause, seemingly unnecessary and pointless, moments before now serves only to accentuate the beauty of the song that once again fills the concert hall.

But what about in life, when our Conductor calls for the a similar pause? His directions have been so clear, the music of life so beautiful, but in a moment, He may simply say stop. Rest. Wait. And it hurts.

We feel the loss of the music. And we long for it to continue. It may seem unwarranted, unneeded, perhaps even cruel. The music of yesterday echoes in our mind, and yet, He simply says wait.

Wait.

Rest.

Trust.

And sometimes in desperation, we offer up ideas.

What if I take this step? Can’t You see that this would be perfect? 

I could do this. I know it would work. 

And in effect, we whisper to the Conductor,

What about this note? Wouldn’t it be fitting right now?

I know what would make this masterpiece better. 

But, the seemingly pointless pause, the moments of waiting, of silence, are never simply time fillers. He doesn’t work that way, and if He says wait, you can rest assured that there is always a purpose.

For it’s in the waiting, that we learn to focus our eyes on the Conductor. It’s in the waiting that we learn to trust in His faithfulness. It’s in the waiting that we decide if we will follow His directions or step off into our own plans.

It’s a time to reflect on who He is, a time to look at Him, really look at Him. It’s a time to see the marks that line His forehead, lines that speak of a Savior mocked before the world. We see the scars through His feet that tell of agony born for us. We see a mouth that spoke the world into existence, called Peter onto the water, caused lame men to walk and calmed the stormy waves and boisterous winds. We see eyes that cried tears for Lazarus and then watched as he breathed life’s breath once again. And we see the hands, His nail-pierced hands that tell a story of His relentless pursuit, His unending love and His unspeakable grace. We see hands that touched blinded eyes and gave back vision, hands that carried children, hands that still carry His children today.

And when this Conductor, our Savior and Creator, says wait, and we really catch a glimpse of who He is, it becomes infinitely easier to rest in His timing. Because when He gives the signal, and once again the symphony of melodies begins to swell, it will be more beautiful than ever before. The notes will be filled with purpose and passion that were not there before and His glory will be emphasized with startling fervency.

Yes, He orders our steps, but He also orders our pauses. Because every step, every moment, and pause has divine purpose when our Conductor gives the orders.