A Needed Reminder

                This evening, I was blessed to join with some friends that I haven’t seen in a while and attend worship at their ministry. We planned to have dinner and hour before to catch up and chow down. As we navigated our way through the dining hall, we ordered meals, grabbed drinks and headed to pay. I was pulling my money out of my wallet when one of my friends came up beside me and informed me that he was going to pay for my dinner. Of course, I refused, telling him to save his money. And of course he won the battle. 

                Such a generous act of kindness was almost shocking to me. It was as if I couldn’t believe someone would do that without expecting anything in return. The act of thoughtfulness settled into the depths of my heart as we made our way into worship.

                When the pastor was done teaching and the worship team had finished leading, we resorted back downstairs to get our belongings and make our way to my car. It then hit me that I had left my leftovers in a small-group room. We immediately noticed that there was an important meeting going on, and neither of us was too excited to interrupt it just to grab my food. And in that moment, I was hit with shame. Here it was, someone had paid for my dinner—a dinner I could have and should have paid for myself—and I was potentially about to waste his money. Guilt settled in my stomach. 

                It wasn’t until I was headed home, rethinking the evening’s events, that it hit me. Jesus Christ paid a price for me that I should have paid myself. A price much greater than the cost of any dinner I’ve ever had. And yet so often I waste His glory and grace without a second thought. I leave leftovers, hidden in a box, to be thrown away or wasted. 

                In the end, my friend had knocked and went in to get my leftovers. He wasn’t worried about his money being wasted or even the possibility of being embarrassed when he entered the room. He was most concerned that I not go without. He was Christ-like. 

                I sometimes ignore God. I don’t thank Him enough. I try to gain control. I pretend I have it all together. And yet, in every moment, His heart yearns to take care of me. He goes out of His way to untangle things I’ve caused to knot and He gives even when I refuse to take.

                I was blessed this evening to join with friends I haven’t seen in a while and worship. But more importantly, I was reminded of the generous, faithful God I serve. And that is what matters most.

                                                                                                     In His Love,

                                                                                                     Brittany

Psalm 151

If I were to write a Psalm, here’s how it would go:

Lord, when will the morning come?

You’ve promised light and truth to wash over my night

Yet I have yet to see it.

Darkness surrounds me.

How much longer must I drown in the dusk of my thoughts

How much longer will my faded strength be all I have

How much longer?

Rescue me.

I beg You, rescue me from this pit.

I crave joy

I hunger for peace.

I sing your name

Though my voice is barely audible

My mouth releases praises

But my heart only aches.

Where are you, Lord?

Have you placed me in the corner?

Is this payoff for my lack of love?

Is this the shelf on which idleness has placed me?

How long until you take me down, dust me off and renew the heart within me?

How long, Lord?

For I seek restoration.

Renewing, I need.

Save me, Lord.

Save me, my God.

The Best Novel

                A few weeks ago, I began writing a novel. I love writing and have always wanted to push my limits and go big. When summer came around, I saw it as the perfect opportunity. And so I began! Only one day in, I realized I needed to plan first. I couldn’t write a story if I didn’t know where it was going, what the struggles and excitements would be or who would bring the story to life. I began mapping. I made a list of character names with a small description of each. I then made a map of how these characters would relate to each other, when they would meet and what they might look like at the end of this book. I wrote down a few themes that I wanted to be sure stood out within the words on each page and then I stood back and admired the chaos I had caused on paper.

                At first glance, it didn’t look like a smooth story. The twist, turns, ups and downs make it seem almost impossible. But being the one who planned it all, I knew that not only would it work out, it would also be beautiful in the end. I began writing the introductory chapter soon after and I am currently a fourth of the way through it!

                As I have been working on this novel, I have learned a lot more about God and His plans than I ever expected to learn while writing. See, like myself, God had a vision. He valued that vision so much that He decided to draw out a plan. He developed characters, relationships, twists, lessons, romance, healing and so much more. He knew what He wanted His ending to look like and sought out to write a story that would make its way to such an ending. And that’s when He wrote it! He wrote the story of my life. He did the same for you.

               

                Often times, I find myself in the first chapter, longing for the tenth. Or I find myself in the middle of His novel, wanting to rush to get to the end. I sometimes flip to the back, looking for an index to tell me when I’ll meet my husband, how long I have to wait for my dream job or when I’ll welcome the birth of my first child. But no index is to be found. As impatient as I sometimes am, the lack of knowing has never really been easy for me. But what I’ve been reminded of in this new adventure I’m on is that God is an amazing writer. He is poetic, romantic, honest and thoughtful. Each chapter does not give the answers for the next, but it sets a stage for learning and loving, struggling and growing. And if we read with a desire to live in His will, it will be the most riveting and consuming story we’ve ever read; The story of our lives, written by none other than our Creator, Healer and Father.

In His Love, Brittany

We The Forgetful

     A wise man once said “No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”


     I fully believe in the truth of this quote. What this storyteller forgot to mention, however, is that although kindness may not be wasted, it is certainly forgotten. Millions of people walk the face of this earth each day without knowing to truth of the Gospel. They ride the rollercoaster that is life without realizing there is a true hope, true peace and true love waiting for them. These people have not forgotten the amazing act of kindness that Jesus Christ gave for us because they don’t know it!

     We, on the other hand, do know it. We teach it in some form every Sunday. We sing about it on Wednesdays. We sign cards with “Blessings!” and wear our Jesus t-shirts like they’re going out of style. But we—the churchgoers, the saved—forget the Almighty, Heavenly, God-Himself-in-human-form act of kindness every day. We get tangled in the arms of worry instead of the arms of grace. We rest our minds on the to-do list of the day instead of the One who has written a plan for our 24 hours. We execute breath after breath without using them for one simple word of praise. We have forgotten.

     Jesus Christ died on a cross so that we may know forgiveness, have eternal life and experience true, passionate and perfect love. We forget that. But that’s not all we forget. We forget that Jesus also rose again! From the dead! Three days later! Not only did Jesus—God in flesh—love us so much that he came down to earth to live and die for us, He also loved us to a depth that left His heart desiring to be with us again one day. And so He arose. We make a point to forget that as well. It shows in our words, our actions, our thoughts and our lack of praise. We, as the church, have become forgetful.

     His act of kindness was flawless. And He did it for the most flawed of creations. He did it for us.

     So as we celebrate Easter, the time in which Christ arose again, I am asking God to awaken our hearts as well. That we may rise up from the ashes of forgetfulness and allow the memory and truth of what He did be the center of our every thought, action, word and praise.



In His Love,
Brittany

More Than A Memory: A year since you left

It is said that when you lose someone you love, you enter the stages of grieving. These steps include denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. One stage may be visited longer than another and sometimes those who are grieving revert back to a prior stage or simply start at the beginning again. They say that once you’ve reached the stage of acceptance, you learn to continue your life, holding close to your heart the memory of the one you lost. 

I don’t know who initially came up with this idea or these steps, but I must say that they do know something about losing a loved one. It was hard. There were moments in which I refused to believe you were gone. Some moments were filled with despicable shouting and rage. I spent weeks asking if there was anything I could have done to save you that night, negotiating and bargaining with myself. And finally, I fell into an extreme hopelessness before accepting that you are now in Heaven. It was beyond hard. That part, they were right about. 

But what these people didn’t know was what life was like with you in it. They didn’t grow up with you by their side. They had never heard you burst into laughter or caught the excitement in your voice when you talked about fixing an old truck. They were never the victim of one of your sly insults, with that cunning grin plastered on your face. They were never blessed by knowing you. And so when they say that after accepting you’re in Heaven and no longer on earth, we learn to keep living life, holding your memory close to our heart… they have it wrong. 

You are more than a memory. You’re the whisper of the wind in the middle of hunting season. You’re the laugh of a two year old who has your eyes. You’re a reoccurring tear on the cheek of your mom and dad. You’re the pictures in the frames, smiling back at us. The purr of an old engine being revved. And sometimes when I least expect it, you’re right beside me, reminding me that it’s all going to be alright. 

You are more than a memory, Joshua Tyler Shelton. And though we miss you greatly, we thank you for a year full of reminders.

I love you,

Brittany Jade