Precious Predilections

Category: Faith

  • Silence Doesn’t Feel Like Solidarity

    Silence Doesn’t Feel Like Solidarity

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    Those that know me well know that I love truth more than I love comfort.  This past week, the ugly truths of police brutality, implicit racial bias, and systemic oppression of black and brown people made many uncomfortable.  In fact, many are still uncomfortable; particularly in the christian community.  This past week has pushed the christian community to take a serious look in the mirror and introspectively determine if diversity is something that is only espoused in word or actually lived.  And when I say actually lived, I ask… Are we brave enough to listen, empathize, and act courageously when it is counter cultural to do so?  When we might be afraid to do so?  When it is uncomfortable to do so.

    I have pondered why the #AltonSterling and #PhilandoCastile killings (by police officers) have caused me to grieve so deeply; more deeply than previous incidents of police abusing power.  More than #FreddieGray.  More than #SandraBland.  More than #MikeBrown.  More than #TamirRice.  More than #SamDubose.  More than…

    And then it hit me – this list does not seem to end.  Data from http://mappingpoliceviolence.org/ shows us that this brutality by police officers upon black lives is a systemic problem.  And…many of my non-minority christian friends have become mute.  I liken it to an ethnically mixed group of high school kids who are friends discovering that one of the black guys has chosen to go to the teacher after class and speak up for another black student who is repeatedly being poorly treated by someone in authority.  Most in this ethnically diverse group vow to show up  to help defend this black friend because they all believe this student is worthy of defense.  You may be able to finish this hypothetical story for me.  The friend arrives at the class room and sees that primarily his black friends kept their word to stand with him.

    Welcome to the #BlackLivesMatter movement. The silence of a segment of the christian community has been deafening because it feels like fear has rewritten the justice narrative and it has been more comfortable to remain silent, just give money or hide behind the cloak of one’s ethnic identity.  None of these positions equate to solidarity.  And none of them will bring reconciliation.

    Don’t be silent – your silence speaks loudly.  All week this “silence” has been ringing in my ears to the tune of “How can we say that we are the church when there doesn’t appear to be a willingness to bear one another’s burden?”  I’ve said it before and I will say it again; lament with us first. No solutions, just solidarity for justice.  A few days ago, a White, Christian friend of mine found courage to speak  even among fear. As I read her account, I could see how she beautifully wrestled with the fear of speaking publicly regarding Black Lives Matter and how the comfort of this fear was no longer greater than the cost of her silence.  Truthfully, her voice on this issue will speak more loudly than mine and this is why silence and/or apathy is not an option for the white christian.  Your silence may be communicating the wrong message. PLEASE READ HER PERSPECTIVE.

    Don’t JUST give your money – because settlements don’t settle it.   Now is the time to leave our paternalism at home.  This god-complex which causes us to want to “fix” the problems in the lives of those they are serving through money is crippling.  When we take a look at 11 recent high profile cases of men and women who had died at the hands of police, several of them received settlements between $5 million and $6.5 million dollars.  Settlement after settlement injustice remains. Giving money is a necessary part of the solution, but it is not the solution.  It takes courage to speak.  To attach YOUR NAME to cause in which you advocate for equitable treatment.  There is such anonymity in “only giving money,” but, when there’s person associated with a cause,  there is a different cost.

    Don’t forsake your eternal identity for your ethnic identity – I am a follower of Christ first and then I am a black woman.  #Realtalk – I am unapologetically black, but our eternal identity as Christians is what unites us. This means that as sisters and brothers in Christ, the higher call for all of us is to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly (Micah 6:8).  When I rise each day, I have to remember not to lead with my #blackness and that it is not the primary narrative that shapes my life.  The banner over my life is one of redemption from sin.  We have seen what sin can produce individually and on a larger scale systemically.  To my White brothers and sisters, I encourage you as well to lead with your identity as a follower of Jesus.  To seek justice for the marginalized.  To see the #imagodei (image of God) in others.  The practical steps to make this occur may be scary, but this is what I want to do.  I want to talk with you.  To share in and learn of your fears.  To seek God together for our nation.  To serve God together in our nation.

    I have decided to follow Jesus.  No turning back.  No turning back.  Jesus didn’t simply advocate for the marginalized when it was easy and comfortable.  He lived in the difficult places; had difficult, yet honest conversation to reveal and then reconcile hearts.  I too will live in that place if that is the first step towards reconciliation.

    Here is a sermon preached a few days ago on #Justice by Pastor Léonce Crump Jr. of Renovation Church. This sermon will make many uncomfortable before it encourages.  He is speaking the truth in love, so I’m comfortable with that.

    Learn to do good; Seek justice, Reprove the ruthless, Defend the orphan, Plead for the widow. – Isaiah 1:17

     

  • Am I Black?

    Am I Black?

    20150611_123830“Am I Black?”  This question has echoed in my mind since it was so loudly projected from the mouth of a little boy (approximately 5 years old) to his parents as he sat with them and watched a portion of a video about the middle passage at The Griot Museum of Black Historyin St. Louis, MO.  The innocence and complexity of his question is what wrenches my heart.  In this beautiful world, it would be great if slavery never existed and if African American parents and those of other ethnicities never had to share with their kids the atrocity of their nation’s past.  In particular, their decision to treat certain people inhumanely.  This little boy could not understand why, in his own words, “only black people were treated this way…”  He actually asked his parents, “where are the white people?”  His mind could not process the reasoning behind the variation in treatment.  They spoke honestly and with lots of grace; not with malice or slander, but with love for their son and his tender, impressionable mind.  I am not a parent, but I commend these parents for walking gingerly with their son to help him understand his history and the importance of valuing all human life.  This indeed was one of the most precious moments I’ve experienced recently in our racially charged society that wants to dismiss the impact of years of oppression on people groups.

    For the past few days I have juxtaposed this little boy’s simple question with the recent events in Orlando, from the #PulseShooting to the shooting of #ChristinaGrimmie.  I love the city of #Orlando and I’ve been grieving with those in my hometown.  My community and people that I love and know are hurting deeply. We cannot understand the senseless act of these shootings.

     The beauty I beheld as this little boy asked this question was profound. You see, he didn’t “know” he was black because his experience as a little black boy was just as it should be.  He has not yet known what it is to be treated differently because of his skin color.  I am not sure that I want to wake him up from this dream.

    As a follower of Christ, I believe the church is called to make this child’s “ideal perspective” more of a reality, but we have to first deal with the sin in our own heart.  The reality that we just may be treating people differently because of their skin color.  Sunday is still a very segregated day in our nation.  The reality that we, the church, may be choosing not to get to know people because their lifestyle(s) don’t align with our beliefs.

    People are more than their ethnicity.  They are more than their sexual identity.  Oh that we would learn to live and love one another as people.  Not as pretentious, external, superficial, descriptors such as race, gender, and economic status.  This week in the wake of the Orlando tragedies I believe I was granted a gift from God to spend time in Colorado with a couple who co-founded a non-profit, which is making a difference in the lives of children who are aging out of foster care.  The gift for me was that although I “knew I was Black” in Colorado, I didn’t “feel” Black when spending time with their family.  I held tightly to this feeling because it was refreshing.  Typically, “feeling Black” when I am the minority means that I am treated as inferior and presumed weak.  To be in a community where I am clearly an ethnic minority (Colorado isn’t particularly racially diverse) and to be welcomed and loved as a person first, is a gift I treasure.  There might have been second glances from others as I sat around the table with this couple, their daughters, and a friend, at a local eatery, but at that table we laughed together and enjoyed each other’s company in earnest.  And although I am not their daughter, I felt protected by this couple in an incredibly beautiful way.  This was a dose of authentic love.

    If there was a gift that I could give to those who’ve experienced marginalization, it would be the gift of authentic love. To authentically love allows us to accept people as a part of God’s beautiful creation.  There is no doubt today that I am proud to be black.  But if I am honest, I have had to fight for this freedom of pride in my ethnicity, namely the darkness of my skin and kinkiness of my hair and all that I’ve been told that this represents in our western society.  What I have recognized recently is that fighting for freedom of an insecurity can be costly.  It can mean rejection from those that love you.  It can mean career assassination.   It can mean depression and sleepless nights.  I do not presume to understand the fight of those who are in the LGBTQ community.  What I do know is that I would like for #America and at times, those in the church, to stop making presumptions about their character and worth because of their sexual identity alone.  This is nonsensical.  Seriously.  We are people first.  Let’s treat each other as such.

    I grieve with all of the families whose loved ones lost their life during this tragedy.  I grieve with those in the LGBTQ community who feel the palatable weight of being targeted because of their sexuality.  I grieve with the family members of the shooter who may now be treated differently because of what he did.  I grieve for the christian church who has yet to learn that we all share a mutual brokenness as people; we are all in need of a Savior (Jesus Christ). Those who are black are in need. Those who are white.  Those who are heterosexual.  Those who are homosexual.  Those who are wealthy.  Those who are poor.  Those who are human are in need.  As we have a greater understanding of this need, we will lower our personal pedestals and stand together as people.

    “Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.”  Romans 12:15

  • When the Healer Doesn’t Heal

    When the Healer Doesn’t Heal

    Heart_with_Bandage-512Sometimes I use music to silence the ache of my heart, but there is no song loud enough to remedy the ache I feel when death comes incredibly close.  Death always feels sudden and unexpected; sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t.  In youth and old age, the heart ache is just the same.  What is not expected is the piercing pain that is with you when you rise and prevents you from sleeping.  Causing you to toss and turn with questions you’ve never fully considered until tragedy has made it’s home in your inner circle of friends or family.  No longer a tweetable article you sympathize with, YOU KNOW the victim(s).

    I write about this as my heart has wrestled with what is true and what I feel.  I feel pain, anger, and hurt because I know God can (and does) heal, but He has not in this instance.  How do I reconcile my aching heart with what my mind knows to be true?  A friend is no longer here; a family member will never again give me a warm embrace and tell me that I “need to eat more chicken to put some meat on my bones.”

    As I increase in age, I have intentionally sought to simplify my life (some might call me a minimalist), but somehow it has become more complex.  Somehow in my thirties, trite answers such as, “everything happens for a reason” are no longer sufficient.  This response leaves me with little ability to be receptive to a statement which lacks empathy and seeks to assuage my ache if only temporarily.   This response now seems artificial; like ingredients that shouldn’t be touched.   Artificial when family and friends are dying of cancer.   Artificial when sudden car accidents end the life of the first,  consistent,  positive male role model I ever had.  Artificial when drug and alcohol addiction destroys the life of a young man biologically deemed father,  yet emotionally and physically distant.

    Tragedy has made its home in my heart and it is bitterly painful.  Parts of me want to apologize because of the toll this grief has taken – that’s not going to happen.  This need for apology causes me to desire to tuck away my vulnerability so that my friends and family can behold an apparently “happier” version of myself.  That is not healthy and is no longer my method of coping.  In earnest, I am not sure how long grief will be present, but I have made space for it. I am allowing myself to feel the pain of loss and to cry about it over and over again because this brings some healing to my soul.  When the Healer (Jesus) doesn’t heal physically, I know of no greater remedies than:

    • Those who remain close enough to  listen,  pray,  and cry with me.
    • Constant reminders of the beauty of community and that I do not have to be alone.   I can choose the presence of those that love me especially in my weakest,  most vulnerable state.
    • Those who speak the truth in love.
    • Beautiful memories imbued with laughter.
    • Honestly sharing my disappointment with Jesus who can shoulder it.  No longer waiting for all of the answers to life’s complex situations,  but somehow gaining better perspective of the resurrection and the beautiful gift of eternal life that death gave me.  Learning the spiritual principle of God producing life out of death.

    At the crucifixion, death came when some of the people present wanted healing.   From Jesus’ selfless act a newness of life has been made possible for all.   All can be made new.  Brand new.   Maybe death is more complex than I thought.   More complex than my longing for extended life so that I might personally gain or benefit.   More complex for sure.  I’ve learned how to praise God when prayers are answered as I expected; I am now embracing the difficulty of learning how to do so when they are not.  In order to do the latter, I must remember who the God I serve is…He is just; He is love; and He is a good father.

    My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the LORD. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. – Isaiah 55:8 [NLT]

  • Dichotomy of Thirst

    Dichotomy of Thirst

    I am humored that the term “thirsty” has taken on a negative narrative.  I’m sure you know it…to be thirsty is to be desperate [for a man], so the new narrative goes.  So, as a woman in my mid-thirties, I often want to avoid the topic of marriage and my future husband because in no way do I want to appear thirsty.  But, as I began to think about it, I can see how all Christians face a dichotomy of thirst; a sort of decision we will have to make when two types of thirsts appeal to us.

    Truth is, I am thirsty – I said it.  I want to re-define thirst as it appears in Webster for the sake of this conversation.  Thirsty: feeling a strong desire or need for something.  There is a real desire to be married, but this desire also competes with my desire for God.  There is a real competition for my time, thoughts, and affection to be given in greater capacity to one more than the other.  There’s the dichotomy.  There’s always something demanding more of us and competing with God’s position of first place in our heart.  It may be a relationship, idea of success, or the pursuit of money.

    Below is a poem I wrote as I wrestled with the reality that my future husband’s love for me will also be something I must place on the alter before God.  There’s no space for idols.   Can I love both God and my [future] husband as they deserve?  Will my love for my husband cause me to become negligent in some way in my love for Christ?

    Dichotomy of Thirst

    How can I thirst for you and for Him  simultaneously?

    Simultaneously longing for the love of a man and the eternal love of the God man, Jesus.

    Can there be two possessor’s of my heart or will one of the suitors be left in the dark?

    Seemingly unrealistic to think my heart can contain all of the love from both of you.

    A pursuit so relentless that I must relinquish all of me.

    To be discovered, covered,  and chosen by one who is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.

    To be known so deeply that even the hairs on my head are numbered.  Seperator of my sins as far as the east from the west.  Engulfed by the one who loves me best.

    I have no justification for the latter love I speak of;  a most treasured gift o’ grace.

    This grace allows me to keep my love for my first love, FIRST.

    You see there is no dichotomy when I abide in thee.  When I make my resting place your bosom, I find my heart no longer at war, but rather at peace.

    For I realize that there is no love greater than yours, but that you also made space for a courageous heart to walk WITH me in this race.

    And while I long to meet him, I am reminded that I can love him most fully when I love you most fully.

    Thank you for allowing my heart to make room for another love.  To fill a desire given by You from above.

    As the two of you share space, I promise to give you first dibs.  I love you my forever Bride King Jesus and my future husband to be.

    —–

    All throughout this journey with Jesus, we must honestly ask ourselves whether or not our desire for _________________  is greater than our desire for Jesus.  Thirst is normal (naturally and metaphorically), but how it is filled makes all the difference.  May Christ be the first to meet our deep need and longing for love and every other desire pale in comparison.

    “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
        my soul thirsts for you;
    my flesh faints for you,
        as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” – Psalm 63:1

  • No Sweeter Words

    No Sweeter Words

    Today marks the 1 year anniversary of the Precious Predilections blog.  The “start” of this blog has been liberating.  Writing has allowed me to courageously share things that would otherwise become a passing thought.  In so many ways writing has become for me the unveiling of the broken and beautiful things that occurred last year.  So as we start this new year, I want to begin by sharing some of the sweetest words I’ve known.  These words remind me of the miracle of life that God has bestowed upon me.  They remind me that God knew what He was doing when He inspired my mom to name me Precious.  These words are the sweetest.  In honor of the start of a new year, I want the first blog post of the year to honor someone that I love and hold dear.

    Happy New Year 2016 replace 2015 concept on the sea beach

    No sweeter words than those spoken over me by mother 18 years ago.  She has written many poems and I have them in my possession, but this one holds a special place in my heart.  No formal, stylistic lessons on writing poems here. No soliloquies.   Just a mother inspired to encourage her daughter.  A mother inspired to share a story.  A mother moved to make indelible impressions on my heart with the stroke of her pen.

    My Child

    One minute after you were born your breath was snatched away, but by God’s grace you were saved that day. Two pounds and five ounces that’s all you weighed, on what i thought would be a faithless day.  They shaved your hair, put needles from head
    to feet.  I hung my head and cried in defeat.  God sent his angel in the form of
    my mom to comfort me and hold me and say well done.  He said shake off the blues, everything will be alright.  Don’t you know, she was born to fight?  

    You have never been mine, just a loan you see.  For from day one God had control of thee.  You were born with so many problems, but He took them away.  No open heart surgery for you He said that day.  That hole in your heart I’ll fill it with love.  You’ll float through life on the wings of a dove.

    Mom2
    My Momma – Christmas 2015

     

    I’ve watched you grow a joy to behold, God’s love has
     surrounded you as your life unfolds.  At the age of twelve He claimed you again.  Now isn’t this how my story began? Into your life came Freddie Filmore, Jr. (Chip), he worked at P.A.L.  Who knew he’d be more?  He took you into his heart, helped teach you about God, but that was just the beginning of his part.  Then came the pastor, his wife and family, and a group of people at Freedom Ministries.  

    I’ve watched you grow for eighteen years.  Your desires and needs our God has fulfilled.  Now you’re leaving home; you’ll be on your own.  I want you to know that you’ll never be alone.  You have brought me peace, so much joy to my life, but I can hear you say “that’s just the Jesus in me.” I miss you already.  I don’t want to let you go, but I know that you know that I love you so.  So hold your head high, stand tall and be strong.  And remember who you are, the daughter of Casa Lee Young. 

    Mom, It is eighteen years later and I am still growing.  Thank you for being my first teacher.  Thank you for being my present teacher.  And thank you for being my first writing inspiration.  Here’s to the moments and memories of 2016 that will move my fingers to type.  Here’s to another year of blogging.  Thank you all for your support.

  • Prayer Isn’t a Placebo

    Prayer Isn’t a Placebo

     

    I’m guilty.  I’m guilty of treating prayer at times as if it is a placebo pill.  Placebo – a harmless, unmedicated preparation given as a medicine merely to humor a patient, or used as a control in testing the efficacy of another, medicated substance. At times, it has been easy to take “a dose of prayer” for a particular circumstance without sincerely believing that this “method of treatment” will be effective.  These moments of unbelief speak to my humanity.  There is no other intent of the placebo than for it to validate that the actual drug works well.  Selah (think about that).  Even the placebo points to the real thing. And even in my time of unbelief, God responds, reminding me, that He is the real thing and that praying in Jesus name is not a passive, powerless action.  You see, God isn’t encouraging us to pray, just to humor us with “one more thing to do.”

    Now, on to prayer and its power.  I have read several blog posts and comments [via social media] of people expressing anger or hopelessness at the state of our nation and then saying, “I’m tired of Christian people praying…”   “Don’t black people have have the right to hold a grudge over what happened in Charleston?”  “Why do we (Christians) always resort to prayer?”  When I heard this, something in my stomach turned because it seems that we have forgotten what the secret is in our secret sauce; IT IS PRAYER.  It is prayer to a God who is all-powerful (omnipotent), all-knowing (omniscient), and all-around (omnipresent).  Let me provide further clarity.  The main ingredient in our secret sauce of prayer is faith in a God who is faithful. Immutable.  So consistent, that he makes #StephenCurry free throws look inconsistent.  It is uncanny how much we can trust in ourselves and at times, how little we trust in God.

    Prayer isn’t a placebo.  It is the most powerful weapon we have in dismantling the work of the enemy when dealing with heart issues.  Beloved, some of the most daunting issues of our day are heart issues.   Injustice is a heart issue.  Racism is a heart issue.  Pride is a heart issue.  Lust is a heart issue.  Greed is a heart issue. Bottom line, sin is a heart issue.  All of these issues are presented with the possibility of mending by taking them to #thegreatphysician, Jesus Christ, and allowing Him to operate as He sees fit.

    Perhaps in all of the privilege we have in the world, the privilege to communicate with God directly holds no greater honor and no greater power.  This indeed may be the best “non-secret,” secret weapon we have as followers of Jesus Christ.  Let us not forsake this opportunity to commune with God.  To bring heaven into the ordinary.

    “As an instinct, prayer is a response to our innate but fragmentary knowledge of God.  It is like a note in a bottle to “whatever gods there be.”  As a gift of the Spirit, however, prayer becomes the continuation of a conversation God has started.  If that conversation proceeds, as in the best of conversations, praying becomes meeting with God – heaven in the ordinary.”  – Tim Keller, “Prayer”

    Prayer can be seen as a placebo if the action alone is not connected to the reality that God is with us. In us.  Desires to converse with us.  Be with us.  It is no different than a parent than desires to know, really know, how their child is doing.  At times, the parents may already really know what’s going on, but they see the opportunity for much deeper connection with their child as they are allowed to simply bring the concerns of their heart to their parent and leave them there.  The greater hope we have is that as we present our concerns to God, He listens, and He always responds with our best interest in mind.  Sometimes His response is yes and other times it is no (or “not right now”); but, it is the best response for us at the time.

    I have seen the hearts of men and women (even my own) change through prayer and force-ably tackle heart issues.  In a previous blog post written, Just Cry – Tears for Charleston and the Black Community, I exhorted people to simply allow grief to be a first step in the healing process regarding the #charlestonshooting.  I believe prayer is a close next step.  Whenever that next step happens for you.  As a Christian, prayer positions us to respond in a way that glorifies God.  This may cause repentance, righteous indignation, or respectful dialogue for some.  Prayer powerfully moves us away from bitterness and closer to reconciliation.  No placebo at all.  In fact, quite effective in producing change.

    Prayer may appear passive, but don’t be fooled, it packs a powerful, “one, two…punch.”  Prayer is teaching me the wisdom in speaking to God first in order that I might more effectively speak to others.

    “We use God’s mighty weapons, not worldly weapons, to knock down the strongholds of human reasoning and to destroy false arguments.” 2 Corinthians 10:4 (NLT)

  • Cloudy Christianity

    Cloudy Christianity

    Cloudy

    I don’t fully understand the scientific benefit of the clouds, but I do know that when they fill the sky, they produce ambiguity…

    For the past month or so, this ambiguity has showed up as I have struggled to pray, sense the presence of God, and have faith for mountains to move in my life.  This has caused all kinds of unrest for me.  Sleepless nights.  Aching heart.  I asked the Lord, why are there clouds?  And why is it so cloudy for me right now?

    If there is one thing I have learned as a follower of Christ it is that His ways are not my ways. And, while I may lack the ability to see His purpose in a particular circumstance, there is no doubt in my mind that every event in my life is purposeful; whether I understand it or not.  This speaks to the greatness of God and the smallness of me.

    I recently returned from a trip to Chicago with friends to celebrate graduation from Residency.  Big ups to my friend T! Maryland stand up!  I digress.  During this trip a unique series of circumstance occurred as we drove from Cincinnati to Chi-town.  The arduous journey produced a deep desire for McDonald’s french fries…so we stopped in Indianapolis, IN to get some.  I will tell you how I knew we were in Indy a little later.

    Fast forward to 10:30 pm and we arrived safely in Chicago!  With great excitement we all jump out of the car and proceeded to grab our purses and belongings.  It was at this moment that one of my friends realized that she had left her purse at McDonald’s.  And it was not the McDonald’s around the corner.  As a natural introvert and sleep deprived “type A personality,” everything in me “screamed” at the impending discomfort in the hours ahead.  The group collectively decided to drive back to get the purse…problem is, no one knew “which”  McDonald’s we had eaten at.  Come to find out, Indiana loves it’s McDonald’s.   There were so many locations there.

    The rest of the story as follows highlights all of the amazing ways that God took care of us.  As you read, you may begin to see that God’s vision is clear.  He lives ABOVE the clouds, where it is always sunny and clear.   He ALWAYS has a God’s-eye view!

    So this is the abbreviated version of what happened:

    1. I happened to still have the receipt from McDonald’s which I remember preparing to throw away at the restaurant after ordering, but this time I didn’t.  By the way, no one else had their receipt.  This is when we realized that the purse was in Indianapolis, IN…3 hours away.

    2.  We used the info on the receipt to call McDonald’s and amazingly, the purse had been located and given to the manager.

    3.  We left Chicago at 11:30 pm or so to head back to pick up the purse.

    4.  At approximately 2 am, I randomly asked if we had enough gas in the vehicle to make it it Indy.  At first I was told “YES!”  With this answer, I almost went to sleep.  Fortunately, for all of us another friend looked again and said…”WE NEED GAS!  The gas light is on…” Then there was a long moment of silence realizing that we were in the middle of no where in the wee hours of morning…and running out of gas.

    5. Panic mode ensued for many in the car.  We found a gas station that was open, only to arrive at the exit and it was closed.  Under construction.  WHAT?  One of my friends tried to convince us that we could “drive through” the closed exit which clearly had barricades! In fact, it appeared that workers were in the process of adding more tar to the road.  Her rationality went out of the window because of fear. Cloudy, right?

    6. We drove an additional 3 more miles to a gas station at the next exit which is clearly closed. THE LONGEST (and quietest) 3 MILE JOURNEY OF MY LIFE.  The lights at this BP gas station were off and so we thought, we would have to call AAA at this point.  We only saw the lights above the pumps lit, but thought we’d check even thought it looked bleak.  I distinctly remember the same friend who wanted to ride through barricades proclaim in that moment that, she needed our “faith game” to be on high! We thought the pumps would have been shut off if the store was closed. Thankfully they were not!  This was a time during the trip where everyone offered to pay for gas!  #wontHedoit

    7.  When we arrived at the McDonald’s and picked up her purse.  Not one item was stolen!

    There were so many life lessons learned about God and the way in which He loves me and cares for me through the cloudiness of this experience.  God always knows when the “next exit” of life is AND if we rely on Him, He will get us safely to our destination!    He can and will block other exits that  we should not take – for our own good!  That “blocked exit” may look like a closed door for a career opportunity, an engagement that does not result in marriage, or the short sale of a home that you have invested serious dollars into.  When I fly, my favorite moment on the flight (especially if it is a cloudy or rainy day) is when the plane breaks through the clouds  and begins to fly above them!  It is breathtaking!

    Although this trip ended with sleep deprivation, each one of us returned to Cincinnati with our hearts a little fuller and our faith a little higher.  Remember, break through is just above the clouds. As a follower of Christ, I am learning to have faith in God’s provision and plan even when there’s ambiguity.  Cloudiness isn’t all bad; it magnifies the clarity of God.

    “Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.” – Romans 8:26-28 [MSG]