We Must Not Forget

"Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit." (Matthew 1:18)

A young girl, pregnant before marriage, shamed by her family and community, was my Savior's mother.

"And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn." (Luke 2:7)

My Savior was born a refugee. My Savior was born with no home. My Savior slept, for the first time, in a manger meant for animal feed.

"When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, 'Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.' And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger." (Luke 2:15-16)

One of the lowest viewed people, both economically and in cleanliness, who lived on the margins of society, were my Savior's first guests.

"Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, 'Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." (Matthew 2:13)

My Savior was forced to flee for his life. My Savior was vulnerable and very much in need of saving.

"Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men.Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:'A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more." (Matthew 2:16-18)

My Savior, as a babe, threatened the power structure. My Savior caused a scandal.

This is how my Savior's story starts.

This is the Jesus I serve.

We must not forget the person Jesus came here as. We must not forget the people who he celebrated with. We need not miss the darkness of our "Christmas story." We need not miss the pain. 

We make our Christmas season all about the Light, but what is the point if we don't first dive deep into the darkness of the world around us and in us? How do you recognize the Light when you're closing your eyes in the dark?

This passed month I have felt the presence of my Savior the strongest and seen the Light in a whole new way by experiencing the ache that comes from looking the darkness of this world straight in the face. I've found Jesus in the midst of peaceful protesters and meetings full of hurting people longing for justice. I have felt him in the pavement beneath my feet and the chill of the wind on my face. In listening to mothers and fathers cry for their children that are no more. I have found him in very dark and very painful places.

And it has hurt and sometimes, it makes you tired. There are tears and there is anger, and it weighs heavy on your heart, but there is no doubt in my mind that, that is where we, as people of faith, need to be, right in the middle of this deeply broken world.

It's where Jesus stood from the moment he was born.

I am asking you to wake up this Advent season. Open your eyes. See the deep darkness of this world. Open your ears. Hear the weeping of all of the Rachels whose children are no more. Let yourself feel it deeply. It's not time to sit back and watch. It is time to stand up.

The Christmas story leaves us with this question of allegiance. Where will you stand? With the powerful or the One born on the margins?

Remember, as we fill our world with Christmas lights and reflect on the birth of Jesus this season, that "we do the Light a disservice when we underestimate the darkness." (Christena Cleveland)

I pray that you step into this world's heavy darkness so that you feel the deep, desperate hope that Jesus came here to be.

Where Struggles and Dreams Collide

I found my God where my
                         struggles and dreams
                                   collide...
in this connection between my doubts and my hopes
    when I'm confronted with the tension and
                                           the relationship
                             between the two.
My hurt and my weakness surface
              as I strive towards where I want to be
       and my God meets me there.
He meets me in the tension.
He meets me in the mess.
He meets me as who I am and shows me who I can be.
He finds me in my struggle
      and reminds me of my dreams
My God is a God that draws me close
                              and beckons me on
   who sees my doubt
   and invites me to something more.
He holds my hurt
           and asks me to welcome healing.
It's in my brokenness and all of my doubt
     that I feel His reassuring heartbeat
           beckoning me to come...

You hover.

hope.

a distant shore.

unimagined.

unknown.

a chase.

i chase it.

every fiber in my being reaches.

longs.

i push on. (push back?)

the distant seems to stretch on forever.

water with no end.

yet You hover.

in between my standing and my distant hope,

You hover.

and yet i'm looking passed.

i'm looking passed.

what am i reaching for,

if it reaches passed You?

who am i looking for?

what am i looking for?

the shore or the storm?

and in which do You reside?

You hover.

This is for you.

I'm writing today to those who struggle,

to those who are worn and tired,

for those who want to give up,

for those who are depressed,

for those who have fought for too long,

for those who are still stuck,

for those who know shame too well,

and are friends with the pain inside of them,
for those who are lonely,

for those who are looking for the strength to keep going,

for those who have lost their motivation,

for those who are tired of having to fight,

for you,

for me.

I need you to know that you are beautiful.
I need you to know that you are worth more than you believe.
I need you to know that you have so much to offer.
Something only you can.
Beauty and life.
I need you to know that you are more than your depression.
More than your anxiety.
More than the messes you make.
That you are more.
I need you to know that you are not too much.
I need you to know that you can laugh.
I need you to know that there's nothing holding you back from living life to it's fullest.
I need you to know it's possible.
I need you to know that there is a Light.
That there is Hope.
I need you to know that it's okay that you're down again.
I need you to know that you are strong.
Strong enough to stand back up.
I need you to know that the fight is worth it.
That you are worth it.
I know you're tired,
but I need you to keep fighting.

Covered Subway Walls.

The subway speeds passed

walls that are covered.

Letters.

Words.

Are you trying to be heard?

And I wonder who made the first mark?

Who was the first one to venture down into the dark?

And what was it that you wanted to say?

Did you need someone to listen?

And those dark walls were the only ones that seemed to care?

Did you need to be seen?
To be known?

Your white paint standing against the black painted walls.

Trying to express your pain?

I watch as I pass by.

I take in all of your marks.

I wonder who you are.

And what it was that made you cover the subway walls.

For heavy hearts.

Recently, I've been heavy with the weight of the hurt and pain I see around me. In the people I know and share life with. In the neighborhood and city I've come to love. In my church family. In the little faces that have pieces of my heart.

I find myself heavy over pains that aren't mine. Crying over injustices I have not been the victim of. Feeling all of these hurts that weren't meant for me. Pleading on behalf of circumstances I seem to have nothing to do with. And I've been asking God "Why?" a whole lot recently. Why do people get cancer and brain tumors? Why are kids abused? Why do people commit suicide and people are left with empty hearts? Why are there so many unloved orphans? Why do people have to be homeless and turned aside because of it? Why do girls get sold into sex slavery everyday? Why do ladies walk our streets at night? Why?.. And where, God, are You in all of that?

I was praying with a heavy heart the other day and crying out to God saying, "I feel all of this weight and hurt and pain, but God, I don't feel You." And in that, I heard his response. "That is me. When you feel all of those hurts and pains; when you cry over the brokenness of this world. There?.. That's where I am. It's just a different piece of me. I am with you. I cry alongside you. Your heart is starting to line up with mine and in that you will feel these pains deeper than you ever have. But I am there."

I don't have any answers. But I believe this weight I feel is actually good. I think I'm making a transition from being broken for the people around me to being broken with them. That's what the incarnation is all about, isn't it? Sharing in each others pains and burdens. Breaking alongside each other. It's what he came here to do for us. I don't know why terrible things happen. I don't think I ever will. But as I pray, "Break my heart for what breaks Yours." I should expect to be broken. With others, with my own brokenness, and with my God. But the beauty is that he is there in the brokenness, longing to fill every crack, this broken world has caused, with his glory.

May we be people who have hope through the pain and disappointments of life, for he is right alongside us.
I don't know why, but maybe that's the wrong question to be asking.

"That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave."

- Ann Voscamp

May we be people who see the heart-aching beauty beyond.

Coffee with

friends

is really just

a long way to say

"Therapy."

Closer.

When my depression and darkness are close

Lord, I want you to be closer.

When they're leaning over my back,

I want You to be wrapped around my shoulders.

When they're weighing on my mind,

I want You to be weighing on my heart.

When they're overwhelming my heart,

Lord, overwhelm my soul.

When they're pressing in on all sides,

I want to be pressed against Your chest.

When they whisper lies,

Lord, whisper truth.

When they're grasp seems tight,

hold me tighter still.

Lord, pull me one step closer

until all I see is You.

Do You See Them?

Do you see them?

The man in the orange jumpsuit. Marked for the rest of his life. In a relentless prison system that loves to get people stuck.

Do you see them?

The one with the cardboard sign and blankets sitting on a curb. With an empty stomach and no place to rest their weary body. No place of belonging.

Do you see them?

The girl on the corner, in the short skirt, walking down a street, waiting for a stranger, with only one thing on his mind. Waiting to please and hopefully make some cash. Threatened. Controlled. Trapped.

Do you see them?

The black boy walking to the corner store, as aware of his color as he is of the cops watching him, and the sad, but obvious correlation between the two.

Do you see them?

The one on the corner, waiting to sell the drugs in his pocket, his mind occupied by the hungry little one back home. Only trying to provide a meal.

Do you see them?

The one addicted to drugs. Raped as a child, she found a way to leave it all. Tired eyes. Dependent on a substance that cares no mind to its faithful user, yet it catches her fall. It's there for her more than anyone ever was.

Do you see them? 

They are there. All around you. Don't be fooled by the stereotypes. They are human. They have faces and names and stories. Hardened eyes that cry to be seen, to be heard, to be loved.

What will it take for us to see them?

Redefine me.

There are gifts within you.
There are talents and there are struggles.
There is beauty and there is ugliness.

I know, because they're in me too.

These contradictions that make up my whole being.

All of these pieces that somehow fit together to make me the person that I am.

I used to have this idea, in my head, that when I decided to truly give my life to Jesus, He would change me. I would be a totally different person. Someone I didn't know. Someone I wasn't. I would look more like all of the other Christians I saw. Maybe I would no longer be full of these contradictions. Maybe my passions would change. Everything would be different. I would be different. That's just how it goes.

But this idea that I had frustrated me. Haunted me. I was not a different person. I still struggled with the same things. I didn't fit into any cookie cutter image. And all of a sudden I felt like I didn't know who I was.

But I've begun to change my prayer...

God isn't sitting around trying to make everybody look the same. I believe, He's actually doing quite the opposite. God's not trying to make me anyone other than who I am. But I do believe, and I've begun to pray, that he will redefine me.


Redefine...
         To define something differently.

God is in the business of redefining.

He takes what's there and redefines it, using it for His glory.

I will always be Amber. I will always have these passions. I will always have these struggles. But I am asking God to redefine them. Show me how to use all of these things for His glory.

Redefine my passions.
Redefine my talents.
Redefine even my weaknesses.

Because so often my greatest weakness, by God's grace, can turn into my greatest strength.

...if only I let Him redefine it...

If it were up to me, apart from God, I would probably be investing myself, passions, and gifts into very different things, and I would be unhealthily feeding my struggles and weaknesses.

When I allow God to step in, that doesn't all go away, but what it looks like is very different.

I was painting the other day and thinking through this idea of redefining...
And I realized my paints tell the whole story...

I have a color.
Red.

I use it for a certain purpose. For certain details. For a certain feel.

But then another color comes along.
Blue.

They mix.


And all of a sudden a new color is formed.
Purple.

But I never got rid of the red. Really, the red is still there. It just looks different.


And now purple, I use for something totally different then the red alone. But the red is there. Still a base for the purple itself. It's just being used in a different way.

Red could never be purple by itself.




I imagine what it looks like for my passions, talents, and struggles to mix with God and His heart.
What colors would it create?
Where would it be used?


Redefine me.

I look down at my pallet.
Colors. All sorts.
You can see the process of the mixing.
The process of new colors being made.
Colors being redefined.

There's darks and lights and everything in between.
It's messy.
And yet the product is beautiful.

It's a process of transformation. A process of taking what's there, using it as a base, and making something new. A process of redefining.

Trust in the messy process of redefining. Let God use you, in your entirety, with all that you have for His purposes and His glory. Don't give into the lie that you have to be someone else. You simply have to be redefined. Let this be your prayer.

Redefine me.

A Reminder to Stop.

Christmas break was a time of relaxation and reflection. Spending time with family, catching up with good friends, sharing all that's happened my last four months, having challenging conversations, simply enjoying the presence of the ones I love, it was a much needed time of rest.

Rest.

It's funny to me that the busyness of the city has taught me so much about rest. Perhaps because it's important, and, at times, more needed to take a step back from the over stimulating environment of the city. Maybe my on going schedule forces me to seek out the small moments of rest. Maybe I've just come to cherish those quiet, alone moments that feed me, because they've become more and more rare. Whatever the case, rest has become a yearning in my heart. To constantly be resting in the arms of my God and finding the moments where that can be my focus.

It's hard for me to rest. To stop. Pause a busy schedule and be at peace. My mind always seems to be running restlessly. On top of that struggle already in place, it's hard to find the time for it. Life and busy schedules push us to keep going, as if rest was wrong. So too often, we miss it.

We can't forget the moments that we stop. The moments that we breathe and breathe in the presence of our ever present God.
"Let my soul be at rest again, for the Lord has been good to me."
- Psalm 116:7

I think we all need more moments where we stop. Stop the busyness of our schedule. Stop the busyness of our thoughts. Stop, remember the goodness of our God, and rest. I hope that this month you'll find beautiful moments of rest and that you'll make it a priority. I'll be working towards the same.