A: Why Are We Surprised

Why are we surprised when resistance raises a hoard against us?

When did we start to believe life was an easy stroll down the lane?

What history book or person of age lied with such constancy?

Do the mountains endure the whips of the wind? Pounding of the rain?

Do the trees withstand the storm surge? Dodge lighting?

And what of the river? Its bed a record of endless change?

Indeed, why are we surprised when the wind howls hard against our face?

Where is it written we should expect anything less?

No, we should not expect less.

My Lord, teach us to take our eyes off the storms of circumstance and our fruitless need to control the flow of life.

Let us be like the enduring mountain, a monument to your Glory.

Let us be like the trees, a shelter to the weak, and fresh air to the weary.

May we always live in the reality of the river, that we are full of life and purpose, a source of joy and peace.

Thank you for the sunny hour and cool of the day.

DJ: #66 Growth Isn’t Pain Free

Last week, I had to make an economic decision to pick between two clients. I could not work with both. After a month of talks, I had told Client A I could not work with them. Client A did not take it well. They felt betrayed and let down. I admit I could’ve handled the let down with more tact, but I thought I did my best. I never thought they’d react the way they did.

(To be fair to myself, we didn’t have a contract. I did some work for Client A and gave them everything they needed, while they did not deliver on their end. They continued to push the contract discussion, so I took the information I had and made a choice. Regardless, I didn’t make my decision in anger. It was very matter of fact in my mind. “Client A isn’t following through, pushing meetings, etc, while Client B is delivering everything they said they would while offering a much better financial arrangement.”)

The tough part of this moment is Client A is a friend. I mistakenly thought they would understand my situation. They did not.

Over the weekend I contemplated my actions and their reaction. Did I make a poor business decision? No. I had a similar conversation earlier in the month without a similar response. Could I have handled the moving-on discussion with Client A better? Yes. Absolutely. But overall, I did not merit Client A’s wrath. They responded out of their own brokenness.

And yet…and yet…I still spent way too much energy thinking and feeling my way through the conflict. It gnawed at me all weekend, but in the same space existed a new calmness. In the past, I would’ve slashed and burned my way out. I wanted to defend myself, expose their flaws, broken promises, and general arrogance. But, I did not. I wanted to explain my thought process to comfort them. But, I did not. I worried what they might- in their anger- tell our community. Then, I let it go. I will fear no man. (To be fair, some minor part of me wanted to do be a dick. But…)

I feel a particular healthy disconnect from humanity of late. I’m still a loving and compassionate man. I just don’t feel enmeshed with outcomes. I’m not responsible for Client A, just like I’m not responsible for the any other adult making their own choices. Love knows where it is limited, and a human can only receive as much as they give to themself. Client A’s biggest problem isn’t me. It’s their lack of self-worth.

The sting of an accusation will likely never die, that burst of negative emotion associated with human fear. Regardless, I do see growth in the moment. I did not spend my weekend spiraling into an emotional abyss. Instead, I battled for myself rather than allow a hurting person define me.

One more thought before I finish: This is my new life, to live with the knowledge I will make decisions and some of them will hurt people. That’s the way life is. The best I can do is learn, adapt, and more forward. I do not want to hurt a single person, not even a little. And maybe offense is unavoidable? Seems like offense is badge of honor in 2020- we lead with our triggers expecting everyone to tiptoe around us. I would rather be unoffendable, or as close to it as possible.

Lord,

Grant me the grace to learn from my mistakes and errors. Even though my heart is to bless and love people, I know it will not be evident in all my actions and words. Please cover me with wisdom and humility. I do not want to repeat mistakes. I do not believe I am better than the traps I see others battle. Take my heart, my intentions, and my thoughts. Curve them into your plan for me. I just want to do your will Lord.

Your will be done in me, as it is in Heaven. Bless Client A with all the love and grace You have. Blast their hearts with kindness and joy beyond measure. Heal their brokenness and remove fear from their eyes.

Amen.

DJ: #65 Overnight Flights Are The Worst

My thoughts are loud and scattered. They are mixed with sadness and the judgment I should be happy. As I type, I sit on comfy leather couch in a silent room. Ordinarily it is the kind of setting I crave, an uninterrupted moment to think and process, feel and release. I feel no motivation to battle the emotions, but I must. I cannot stop fighting the war for myself.

I am loved, and I love me. And for this reason, I will struggle with sorrow and push back the pain.

What is true?

I am amazing. I trust the Holy Spirit to hug me and lead me. I am blessed well beyond measure with grace, hope, and community. Though my heart is still mending from a love gone, and my mind pressuring me for security, I plunge my soul into the depth of the One who is the answer.

Lord, I let go of all my pains and desires. I release my fears and aches. I accept Your Hope and Peace for me. Even more I accept your Joy. And more Joy Jesus. With arms wide and an open heart, I totally embrace Your kindness and healing Truth.

I will run after You now and always. You are the Captain and the Prophet. Your wisdom sees further than any human can fathom. I have faith in it. Faith in You. Finished are the days when I run ahead of Your Spirit. My great inheritance is with You, hand-in-hand. And the Glory is in the walk while we get there.

Then he said, “This is God’s Message to Zerubbabel: ‘You can’t force these things. They only come about through my Spirit,’ says God-of-the-Angel-Armies. ‘So, big mountain, who do you think you are? Next to Zerubbabel you’re nothing but a molehill. He’ll proceed to set the Cornerstone in place, accompanied by cheers: Yes! Yes! Do it!’”

After that, the Word of God came to me: “Zerubbabel started rebuilding this Temple and he will complete it. That will be your confirmation that God-of-the-Angel-Armies sent me to you. Does anyone dare despise this day of small beginnings? They’ll change their tune when they see Zerubbabel setting the last stone in place!”

- From Zachariah 4

I am so grateful for the time I have to fight bullshit. My bullshit. I don’t think it will come round again.

DJ: #64 Moving Forward is Easier on Some Days than Others

Yesterday, I discussed the last year of my life, its crazy turns and flips. I wrote about despite some real heartaches, it was a great twelve months. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I still believe that today. 2019 and 2020 are great foundations for the rest of my life. It’s very obvious to me, and hopefully others.

But today…I feel like trash. Like literal trash. I feel used up, discarded, and ready to be buried into obscurity. My deepest fears are alive. I am a fraud. I will never be enough. Don’t make mistakes. Don’t even try. The feelings of rejection (from my breakup) are hanging around my heart. Negative thoughts related to my work stream through my mind. You’re failing.

And yet, I know none of this is true. The heaviness I sense in my chest is not of the Lord. Even this moment, as I type, is an opportunity to push back. F-ck you self-pity. F-ck you fear and doubt. But, the healing is not in the rebuke of what is wrong. Healing comes in the restoration of what is good and loving.

So, I’m going to publicly do what I normally do in a hand-written journal:

I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. I am loved.

I am strong. I am smart. I am kind. I am compassionate. I am creative. I am a problem-solver. I am a doer. I am a completer. I get shit done.

I love myself. I love myself. I love myself. I forgive myself for judging my heart and mind and actions. I let go of self-pity. I accept Peace and Joy. I accept finishing my work. I accept my call to be great. I accept love and faith and kindness.

Lord come, heal my hurting heart. Heal my mind. I give you everything about me. I accept everything about You. I trust You, your hands, your words, and your heart. I ask for your eyes, ears, and hands. Rebuke the enemy on my behalf and bless all those I reach today.

Thank you for loving me and holding me. Thank you for blessing me. Thank you for my roommate, my friends, my family, my car, my job, and my community. Thank you for California and its rugged mountains. Thank you for South Carolina and its vast stretches of green forests. Thank you for delicious foods and all the different types of cuisines on the Earth. Thank you for all the brothers I have on this planet. Thank you for the time I have in my life to stay connected with You, to develop our relationship. It is special. I am special. We are special.

Thank you for the Bible, and the humor in it. Thank you for music and art. Oh Lord, thank you for art. Thank you for all the artists daring to create. Thank you I am among them.

Thank you for the opportunity to live in this age. I will fear no man, virus, plague, fire, or threat of violence. I don’t want to die, and I do not rush to be martyred. But I will stand on love and peace and affection.

Thank you Jesus. You are amazing. Never stop being you. I will not fear me or attacks against me.

Today, as in all the other recent days, I choose to fight for me by turning to the Father. I hold no shame for this practice. I will not tell myself “you should be stronger than this.” It’s not my strength I want. I want the love and eternal hope of the one who is Love and Hope.

(As I end this post, I’m reminded of the Maya Angelou poem “Still I Rise”. [I first heard it in song by Ben Harper.] She writes, and performs, as a black woman choosing to rise above whatever judgments and insults come her way. While I do not know what it’s like to overcome all she has, I can identify with rising above the accusations and shame of the past.)

DJ: #63 Crazy Good Year

On September 15th, 2019, I ate lunch with a group of old friends. They stopped in Redding for a quick visit, and I fit them into my schedule between barbecue shifts. We laughed at the same stories we always tell, and gave updates on our current lives. When it ended, I watched them drive onto the their next stop, somewhere in Oregon. I went home to prep for the next week of business.

A year ago I was single, but happy. I owned a small share in a barbecue catering company, and generally believed I was on my path to greatness. Life was good, supposedly. If some ancient prophet with gangly silver hair had fully detailed the next year of my life, I would’ve done one of two things. First I would’ve disputed his prophecy. Clearly he’s an idiot. And two, I would’ve run from it. No one wants to be split open and exposed.

The last year included the following:

1) I dated and fell in love with the most wonderful woman I’ve ever dated. So, of course we broke up.

2) After growing the BBQ business, I eventually made the decision to leave the company.

3) I had another falling out with my sister.

4) My roommate and I grew apart.

5) I got sick with same stomach issue I had in August of 2019. A condition I am want to avoid at all costs.

6) I was socially isolated due to the job change, girlfriend change, COVID, and fires.

And then there are external events to consider: COVID-19 , fires and smoke, political unrest, etc.

This is how Nik previously defined his reality. He only considered the emotionally difficult moments, and what value those moments communicated about him. As an example, a breakup would send me into a shame spiral because I clearly ‘wasn’t good enough for her.’

But…this is not how I see myself or life any more. Let’s complete this picture of the last 365 days:

1) I increased my time with Jesus to new levels. Daily, multiple times a day, levels. And good God, what a return. I am me, but also more me than ever before. If this were the only bright area of my life over the last year, it would be more than enough. I can’t stress how blessed I am in the commitment to sit before him everyday.

2) I dug up my heart and what’s in it to do. It is scary, but also alive. I can’t go back.

3) I finally figured out what loving me looks like on a daily basis. One metric is my physical health. Since the beginning of the year I am down 40 pounds, and since January of 2019 I am down almost 80 pounds.

4) I learned how to recognize, battle, and defeat bullsh-t negative emotions and thoughts. It’s a process, but I’m glad I have it in my arsenal.

5) I started writing on the daily.

6) I stated creating on the daily.

7) I built this website.

8) I’ve built new friendships and driven deeper into some old ones.

9) I left the BBQ business on good terms with Jason, the owner. I’m one of their biggest fans and pray for all the good things for them.

10) And that lady I mentioned at the top, we are friends. Real friends. I love her so much, I won’t let a little thing like a gut-wrenching break-up keep me from having her in my life.

The great new heights I experienced with Jesus, and the depths I explored in myself, make all of it worth it. Every heart ache, every moment of dejection, all of it is worth it. I have no shame or humiliation related to the last year. And I suspect, if I stick to Jesus, I never will.

DJ: #62 I DID IT!

It will most likely pass as a normal day for most folks. Well, it will pass as normal as a day in 2020 can be. I will not be among the folks counting today as normal. I will mark September 14th as a day of victory, graduation, and commencement. For the first time since 1998, I finished an artistic work. Took 22 years, but it’s done.

It’s a comical looking redwood. The lines are thick and choppy, the subject representations are ridiculously inaccurate, and a few edges of paper I had to glue to a wooden panel managed to poke through the resin top coat. I’m not being overly critical. It’s so deeply flawed I can’t help but laugh.

The victory is in the doing and completion. I didn’t chuck in the trash or leave it unfinished (to eventually end up in the trash.) I envisioned an original piece of art, I did the work, and I finished it. It was an emotion month. I had to battle through fears of rejection, inadequacy, ineptitude. But, I did it.

It also seems like a graduation of a kind. This drawing represents a voyage from the depths of shameful inferiority to the peaks of faith and acceptance. The air up here is clean and crisp. Every breath has purpose, and life is not a confusing maze of wrong choices. I no longer covet praise. I no longer look to the future to escape the dull present. I am being me, and it is good.

Today was also a beginning, the aforementioned commencement. After every victory and graduation is a small party. It is a chance to celebrate and reflect a hard day won. As it must, the next day comes and life continues on. Thankfully I did not aspire to win a small victory. If the sun rises, so will I. If the rain comes, I will work in the rain. I fought hard for this moment, and I will now collect more of them. Soon my shelves will overflow with the trophies won from facing fear, and I won’t stop there.

No. I won’t stop there. I’ll teach others how to climb the mountain, to leave their despair, and breath the fresh air.

Lord, thank you for today. Thank you for loving me and sticking with me. I’m so thankful you cut me out off all the lives I tried to live. I love you, and I look forward to the next chapter.

DJ: #61 Setting New Goals

For those of you who don’t know, I meet with a business/life coach every month or so. He’s been an absolute God-sent gift in my life. The irony is I always thought the guy was a bit of a douche until I started working with him. He, along with another counselor, helped hone my tactics for combatting needy Nik. They gave me practical strategies and helped set me on the course I am on now. I could not be more grateful for them.

During my last session with my coach he asked me to set goals. I immediately recoiled in fear and told him as much. I am afraid to set grand life goals, to look beyond 2020 into 2021, and I don’t even want to think about 2022. Eventually we settled on where I’d like to be in August of 2021. If I break my life into sections, I can project where I’d like to be in business, health, and creatively in 12 months. No problem.

(What I didn’t mention to him is how I’d like to be in healthy dating relationship. But how does one plan for that anyway? I am not going to bang away on dating apps or creep on women in coffee shops. So that area is an area I give to Jesus. What I can do is continue to prep for it by living my best life. Real recognizes real, healthy recognizes healthy, and I’ll attract the right lady some day. I’m not worried about it.)

Still…as of yesterday, I had not set any goals. Every major goal I set for 2020 went up in smoke, and it feels wise to keep my heart and options open. Honestly though, I’m scared. What if I’m wrong, again? What if what I aim at isn’t what I should want? And what about the role of Jesus in my life? Nearly all of my previous visions were about me and my striving. I’m not into striving any more. I have no desire to don’t jump ahead of the Lord and force anything- goals, relationships, or moments. I feel heavy and anxious when I think about it.

Of course, my thinking on the subject is very backwards. My hope and trust isn’t in my plans or goals. It’s in Jesus and my daily walk with Him. No matter what I set my eyes on, without Him it’s empty. The abundant life is in the combination of walking with Him and being who He created me to be.

Back to yesterday. After I grabbed coffee, two seemingly independent events took place.

First, on my way to my “office” I stopped to look a building close to downtown Redding. It’s an old school cement brick structure, long but narrow to the street. The front of the single story building has tall glass windows, reminiscent of the days when people window shopped. My google search revealed a new owner as of July, so I wondered what would become of it.

Then my brain did what I love that it does. I began to see a future in this old place. I saw studio space for me and other young artists (young in the sense of beginning to create, not age.) The big front room with the tall windows is perfect for monthly exhibitions. I pictured a Friday night open mic for aspiring comics, and Saturday night live music. As much as anything, it could be a place I could sow into people, teach and mentor them, and create community. When I drove away I told myself to hold the image loosely. I had to get to a meeting, the second event.

Earlier in the week I decided to stick with my current occupation in marketing rather than pursue a lucrative sales position. During the time I considered a move back into sales, I put marketing on the back burner. Now, I needed to chat with my friend (and boss) to determine how I will be most useful to his marketing company.

I arrived at the office just in time to begin my video meeting. Justin was his usual ball of energy, his voice animated and confident. I told him about my decision to stick with marketing, and asked how I fit into the plans for Cultre. Justin, never short on enthusiasm or ideas, started to riff on the high level of what could be. I saw the wheels turn in his mind as he developed an action plan for me, one that included some training and increased workload.

An hour into the call he asked a simple but fateful question: what do you want, personally? Before I could stop myself I rambled on about an artist co-working and events space. His eyes got big and he clapped his hands in jubilation. On I went about my heart to create community and my desire to mentor people. I was both scared and proud I was vulnerable in the moment, even if this vision was only a few hours old. What came next was bit of a shock.

When I finished explaining my new dream Justin giggled. He said, “You’re not gonna believe this, but I have the exact same vision.” His vision was a bit different than mine, but the same heart. A mix of emotions bubbled out of me, and I battled to stay calm. I knew this moment was some kind of confirmation. It scared me.

(I have two other concrete goals for my life, and they scare me too. I want to get married and have a family. I also want to build a rest and recovery community for missionary and ministry families. Create, grow, and connect. That’s what I want to do.)

All of these goals scare me, which I’m told is good. They require time, resources, and skills beyond what I have now. So they also require faith. And faith I have. The irony is, while I may have honed these dreams a bit, these are the dreams I’ve always held in my heart, the dreams I constantly put aside to be someone else, the dreams I thought I’d get to when they weren’t a risk.

I hear the Lord asking me to go after these things now. Not later. I can do something everyday in pursuit of them, help will come. The woman I marry will support me, as I will her. There will be people I do not know, but have similar passions, who will appear when needed. And all of this isn’t on me. It’s on Him.

My first and only task is to be bold enough to show up, make the sacrifices, and go after the destiny Jesus has for me. Everything else will come. Goals set. Come Lord.

Abstraction: Cut by the Glass

A flick of my thumb, like a roll of this dice, I never know what will come.

The scroll stopped on a black and white photo of a restaurant. A woman worked behind the counter. My former future taunting me as I stared.

This one picture held everything I thought I wanted, I loved. And old sorrows rose as I fixed my eyes on the screen.

They got everything they wanted. Used me up. Left me to bleed. I wanted to argue, and spit, and scream.

A moment later, anger gave way to dejection as I put the glass down. Surges of sadness flooded my heart.

I closed my eyes and wept. I loved her. I loved her, I loved her, I loved her. I still love her. I can’t stop loving her. I can’t stop hoping the best for her, hoping she’s happy.

After a few deep breaths, I let silence fill the room.

I waited for the Voice above all voices, and He did not disappoint.

“I am here…Would you go back?”

No.

“Do you trust me?”

Yes.

“Good.”

Simple as that, I laid my broken heart in His hands. A practice now routine between us, I gave the Lord all my suffering, desires, and judgments.

And like He’s done a hundred times before, He washed away all that would drag me back to what I was. Back to the me before I divorced my fear.

The sadness of an unwelcome end is not to be ignored. The wounds of suffering either fester or heal, but they never fade anyway. And I will not bandage myself in the false wisdom of self-protection.

I will allow myself to bleed and weep before Him, creating room for Him to work miracles.

My heart healed, pumping to the rhythm of joy, I think back to the glass. The resentment and heartache now vanished, replaced by peace and love.

I hope they continue on toward their great destinies. I head toward mine.

DJ: #60 Two Months

Two months. I’ve written at least one blog post per day for two months. Many days, I added a poem or two. And now this blog is part of my being. I look forward to crafting an entry as much I do anything else in my life, and I think I’m starting to improve. The power of dedication grows more evident every day, week, and month I continue to sit at this keyboard and type.

Thank God.

I do not have a plan for this blog, no great goals. What I know is I’ve got to express myself. I’ve got to continue to release what I’ve held and give my beauty away. This process requires new courages. They are vulnerability and indifference, which makes honesty essential, strength too. I’ve got to be sincere and unfiltered. I can’t be either of those without the strength to post it.

At the start, I wanted people to read what I’ve written. I still do, but not as I once did. This blog is about me, so I’m not sure what kind of audience will be interested in my content beyond my friends and family. Moreover, who cares? I endeavor to walk with God, and live the life that feeds my soul. I accept what comes.

I will continue to show up and be me.

Love y’all.

DJ: #59 A “Serious” God

For a while now, when I meditate I see mist. Better explained, I am beckoned into it. It’s probably more like a fog-mist composite. (Fog is dense mist.) The point is I can’t see where I’m going. I can’t see the ground. And I have to trust the Lord, where ever it is we go. All the while, my brain begs for a destination or a goal, and my feet want for the security of feeling stable ground beneath them.

As I reflect on what the challenge is in that place, it’s not fear. Correspondingly, there is not anger or shame, or sadness. I may take some of those emotions into the fog, but I never leave with them. My issue is the purpose of the fog. Even I write this words, my mind is flipping over possible answers. What is this time and place about? Inherent in my admission is a probable answer.

But, what if the fog is of no great purpose? No. That’s false. This is not an exercise intended to break me down and turn me into a mindless drone. I’m not a toy. By simply committing to follow the Lord in the mystery, I am establishing deeper trust and relationship.

Perhaps the purpose is the fog. It’s a place to breath and focus on being.

Yesterday, I wandered into it with my head down. I can tend to be overly focused on the goals and accomplishment, and my morning walks are on hold as fire blankets northern California with smoke and ash. (Instead of bemoaning how the fires are f-cking with my routines, I choose to adapt. I won’t make excuses.) Once in the mist, I heard the Voice tell me to run, a normal thing this week. So, with no direction or goal, I started running. In the fog. Not my favorite activity.

After a few seconds a Being ran up beside me, and it began to run in the most hilarious style of running I’ve ever seen. Its arms flailed and legs flared. She* laughed the entire time. It was perfect. I started laughing too. “What exactly is happening in my life?” I thought. And the Lord immediately answered, “There is joy here too. Fun in the fog. If it ain’t here, it ain’t Me.” At this I began to cry for what is life without unearned joy and laughter?

This morning I am still alternating laughs with tears, overwhelmed by the goodness of God. He is not the humorless mob boss sitting in the corner, stroking His mustache. He’s the goofy, big-eared kid who doesn’t give a flying-f-ck what anyone else thinks about Him, the Eternal Optimist, the Forever Patient, the Always Kind, the Giver of the Best Gifts, the Relentless Hunter.

The Comic. The Jokester. The Creator of Comedy and Infinite Joy.

For any of it- peace, love, joy, hope, faith, righteousness, justice, self-control, patience, humility, endurance- to drive us to the greatest depth of Him…it all has to work. It is fine to focus on one of these at a time, but when we develop our sense of justice without joy, we become slaves to the law. When we focus on peace without faith, we become doormats to those around us. When we focus on love without endurance, we set ourselves up as a cruel judge of others. And endurance without hope tortures the heart.

The most elusive gift of God in my life has always been joy. As with a few other aspects of my life, I thought I had to manufacture it on my own. It’s stupid to think about as I type it. Who makes their own gifts?

I’m so glad and happy to know God is who He says He is.

Lord God of Humor and Grace,

Thank you. Thank you for being so awesome. Thank you answering my prayers to know You in greater ways. Thank you for giving me a place to grow and be imperfect. I love you. I love our life together.

Amen.

*I wrote she, because the Being was the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is feminine in my experience.

DJ: #58 Crossing the Items Off My List

In 2015, I sat in a prayer chapel and seethed under my breath to the Lord. I hated my job. I hated my life. I hated myself. I was hopelessly single, in debt, over-weight as ever, and coming off a porn binge. To top it all, earlier in the week the friend who helped land the job I now hated, was fired. It left me alone in an office of small-minded people. (Oh, and I turned down another job with double the salary to work for these clowns.) What the actual f-ck was I doing in Redding? Why had the Lord brought me thousands of miles from my home?

Found my journal entry from the day. Kinda comical to think about.

I spewed every angry thought and feeling I held. My rant included many f-bombs. And I’m not sure how long it lasted, but I was not brief, no gripe was left unexpressed. Should you be interested, no. The chapel was not empty on that bright summer day, so I suppose someone heard the chubby guy cuss up a storm in the corner. Here is a more tame excerpt from what I wrote in my journal.

August 19, 2015

A year ago, I believed I was headed toward a great future- even if unknown- and now all I see is endless failure, surrounded by the same old shit. I feel like a chaotic mix of entitlement and violation.

That day was also a day I experienced new sweetness of the Lord. After my honest confession, He found it right to comfort me. I was hurting and He knew it. He took all my complaints and rudeness. He absorbed every word. Yet no rebuke came, no words of judgment or condemnation. His answer was short and simple: to seek Him. In this answer I knew what His heart said to mine. Come find Me Nik. I’ll take care of the rest.

And so I did. For a few months I got up early to seek the Lord every morning. This is from the very next morning, from a discussion with a Saint:

August 20, 2015

He told me not to be a martyr, to value myself. Many people seek figurative or literal martyrdom for their own glory.

I mentally understood what I writing, but I was too immature to know what he was meant or how it applied to me. That time in the autumn of 2015 was a nugget, a seed. This year, when everything started to unravel, and I watched my hopes burn, that seed blossomed. I knew what to do. All of the mental understandings and directives from the Lord became food for my heart. The wisdom given to me by an ancient saint came alive and is forever imbedded in my DNA. Seek the Lord. Value me. I don’t have to sacrifice my being. I am enough. Everything will work out along the way.

I have nothing but praise for a God so kind as to meet me when I drew near, and to let me wander when I decided to take control. He never left, but stayed patient. And now, I’m never going back to my way of living. I can’t. For example, today I decided to turn down a job interview with a great company. My main source of motivation to interview for the job was money. In fact, it was my only motivation. When I entertained the idea, all I could think about was what I’d do with the cash.

Having just gotten out of a similar situation, why would I ever do that again?

From a higher perspective, I’ve been in this scenario before. I start to walk closely with the Lord, I become happy, then I get ambitious. I reach for something beyond me. I leave the shadow of His presence. All the plans I make turn to dust, and I end up a miserable puddle of shame. However, 2020 is a different year. I choose Jesus. I choose to do what gives me life. Do I want and need more money? Yes, I do. The question is, do I trust the Lord? Yes, I do. I trust him enough to sit my ass at His feet for the rest of my life. I trust Him more than I need money.

I’ll give you this, which is also the reason for the title of this post. My trust in Jesus is not blind. He’s delivered on His promise to care for me. Remember the list of frustrations from 2015 (relationship status, money, porn, job, weight)? He’s delivering on them right now:

1. Relationship status? Still single. Believed I had the one earlier this year. Either way, I’m closer than ever.

2. Money? Still in debt, but I’ve paid off $7,000 since last year. So that’s progress. Plus, I have some savings and investments I didn’t have a year ago.

3. Porn? Haven’t had an issue with it in a long time. Which is awesome.

4. Job? I like what I do in marketing. There’s room for growth there too, and I like who I work with. So that’s good.

5. Weight? Lowest I’ve been since 2016. Once I break 220, I’ll be at my lowest weight since 1998. 22 years ago.

It’s quite amazing to watch all this happen day-by-day. I feel like a walking miracle. All the things that once consumed me and I measured my life by, He cares about. I get it now. Deep in my heart I know my place is with Him, and I’ve got perfect view to watch Him work. He’s crossing items off my list.

A: Love Reveals Purpose

I once wondered blind, straining to hear kind voices.

My hands cut off and eyes removed, my only option was to follow the direction of the voices down one empty road and up another. I dragged my heart behind me, refusing to touch it. It was ugly. Dust and muck and crusty memories clung to me. On I marched, in search of rest from my filthy condition.

My hopes stood on the shoulders of the voices. Oh what sweet voices they were. Warm, encouraging, well-intentioned voices. And they belonged to warm, encouraging, well- intentioned men and women. Giving people. Compassionate people. Yet every map they gave and every encouragement made led to the another dead end.

I hold not a sin against them for their efforts. I asked and they answered as well as their wisdom allowed.

Eventually my search took me beyond secure into risk. The wisdom in this venture was not in the doing but in the being. As I sat at this table, crippled as always, I found no solace or purpose, my heart tucked up under my chair. The longer I sat at the table the more I battled to remain. In my mind I played a game. Should I win this game, then, and only then, might I have the chance to rest. To heal. To be me. No. I had to stay glued to my seat. I had to win this game.

Day after day, I slogged my way back to the table. Night after night, I meditated on whether I should return. Having traveled enough roads, and sat at many tables, I knew I didn’t have the heart to win this game.

Late one evening, I found myself looking into a mirror, drawn by the One who is the mirror. Obvious for the first time to me then, as it may be to you, is I indeed have eyes. And hands. And my heart is where it need be, in my chest. The layers of grime and shame gone. What was this? A trick? All of my life was, until that moment, a series of failed journeys and disappointment.

Then the Mirror began to speak. Having nothing left and no where to go, I listened.

“I love you. I am in love with you. And I command you to love you as I love you. Look at yourself through my eyes- not broken or used up. You are beautiful and strong. Brave and creative. Relax. Let your feet follow me, and I will give you the Peace and Joy you want.”

All the voices faded into silence as I carefully considered the Lord’s offer. I studied the choices in my head. The streets I traveled, I knew. I knew their promises and the danger in believing in such promises, and the tables they led to. What the God of Love and Grace offered me was a chance to be me, to cut my own path.

So here I sit, powered by love, chopping my way through another day. I no longer walk the paved roads of another’s calling. I no longer listen to the kind voices of my friends. Through love and devotion, I found my way. My beautiful heart is finally at peace.