Tuesday, September 23, 2014

How I (almost) Died on the Mountaintop

When you climb up something really high ... there's a phrase that is familiar that we find some kind of faux comfort in.  "Don't look down!"  And more often than not ... we look down.  I was in the "not" part of that statement for a LONG time.  I didn't look down.  I refused to look down.  I kept looking up.  It all sounds well and good.  It sounds so positive and ambitious.  I kept climbing the mountain!  Look at me!  I'm gonna keep going up, im gonna keep climbing while all you other fools are down there ... in the valley.  I almost died up there.

I didn't want to climb the mountain so that way i could survey my next piece of land from a more grandieose view.  I climbed the mountain because who in their right mind desires to walk in a valley? 
"Though I walk through the VALLEY of death..."  Surely only those who have chosen to settle, who don't have the strength to make the climb, make their home in the valley.  Only those who have strong faith and determination decide to risk it all and climb that mountain!  But I almost died up there.

If this all sounds backwards from here on out, then healing must take our messed up ending and walk us back through our pain till we get back to the beginning and then we are able to make a different choice. 

I finally made it back to my beginning ... about 12 months later.  That's what grace is ... it walks you through your pain, allows you to see the places where your choices nearly cost you your life and opens your eyes to the valley.  There have been many painful times in my walk with God where I felt like I was walking through the valley.  Grace has allowed me to look back and see that I spent too much time without air on the mountain.  All the while, despising the valley down below.  Watching those close to me walk, camp, live, find sustaining life in the valley. 

I'm not actually a climber ... but i know enough about mountains to know that the higher you climb, the less oxygen there is to breathe.  The air becomes thin, your breathing labors and plantlife decreases.  I almost died up there.  That's how high I was.  My desent from the mountain was just as painful as the climb up the other side. 

I climbed up the mountain of my talents and worshipped the gods of my comfort.  My intelligence swallowed up my humility.  My sarcasm stopped up the love in my heart for my friends.  My mountaintop adventure fogged up my vision of Jesus ... down in the valley.  The mountain hardened my heart and melted my relationships.  I almost died up there.

I began to make an 8-month journey down this mountain.  And it started when God asked me to do something that I actually decided I should do.  I stepped down from doing things that i loved.  Because i was doing things.  Things.  I lost the art of being ... and i started doing.  I was doing things to gain others' attention, affection, appreciation.  I did very little to gain His attention.  But He did everything necessary in order to gain mine.  He took away the 'stuff ' and i was stripped down to near nothing.  Until i face planted into the deepest part of the valley ... where the most air is, where the most life lives, where the grass is lush and green.  I plummeted into the valley ... willingly. 

Joshua was the successor to one of the greatest leaders in time ... Moses.  Joshua spent time with Moses, learned from him, walked with him, saw the things he saw.  Then Moses died.  And Joshua was faced with a challenge from God.  But He was encouraged beforehand to be strong and courageous.  I've lived long enough to know that courage is only needed when fear stands in front of you.  Certainly, Joshua needed courage because something awaited him beyond that encouragement from His Creator.  So Joshua went.  God told him that He had already delivered the land into his hands, but that he and the Israelites had to go get it. 

"That night, Joshua went into the valley."  {Battle at Ai}  (Joshua 8:13) 

He went willingly into the night and down into the valley ... in order that he might experience the victory.  Moses knew just what his successor would inherit.  Because God showed him on the top of a mountain called Mount Horeb.  Moses died on that mountaintop right after God showed him the Promised Land.  And Joshua saw victory in the valley.       

I almost died on the mountaintop.  But now i live in victory as i walk in the valley. 


Monday, September 22, 2014

Why I'm (still) Single

I have spent most of my so-far adult life devastated about who I am.  Devastated because I gave myself the permission to believe that i was missing out on another life.  That there was this whole "other" life, this big, unwrapped package called marriage.  And my value, worth, identity and entire being was wrapped up in what i did not have ... what i may NEVER have.  I wanted to be married SO badly that i chose to look past what God was doing in my life at that very moment ... maybe even missing some things along the way.  Simply because I wasn't looking for them. 

In life, i believe that the voice of the enemy of our souls loves nothing more than to create confusion and cause us to focus on maybe even something that is GOOD!  Marriage ... is good.  I don't even have to be married to know that.  I know that marriage is good because God instituted it and called it good.  Nearly 10 years ago, I let something good become something confusing.  A mentor asked me "what would you rather die than not be able to do on this earth?"  She was speaking of passion.  I answered without hesitation ... "I want to be a mom." 

Desiring to be a mom, to have a God-centered, God-honoring marriage are good things.  However, that seed that was planted in my heart nearly a decade ago was only watered with the watering can of misunderstanding, confusion, disappointment and false expectations.  I could write out a list as long as both my arms of the weddings i've attended, been invited to and some i've even missed because of my own pain.  They play back in my mind like a reel of film.  The kiss at the altar, the coordinated wedding party, the nosy photographer with the huge lens, the themed dances at the reception, the cake smearing, open bars, exchanged vows, the newlyweds walking out hand in hand.  I've always left each wedding alone.  It gets old after a few dozen weddings. 

And after a few dozen weddings, my hope was devastated.  Then soon, the circle of my friends even seemed like it mocked my current season of life.  Most are older than me, married, children, established in their lives.  And then there's me. 

But the story doesn't end quite so miserably as that last paragraph.  In the past couple months, as I approach 28 in a couple weeks, I have made the conscious decision, even daily at times, to lay that desire down.  To surrender it to where it came from in the first place.  My desire to be married, to "be fruitful and multiply" didn't just come from a fleeting thought i had.  It came from God.  And so i'm just giving it back, palms up and asking for His timing.  That's why I'm (still) single. 

More importantly, I'm single because it's the season that God has me in right now.  Is there anything stopping me from hitting the bars on the weekends and leaving with some random guy and getting pregnant? 
Absolutely not.  I can do whatever I want.  But a long while ago, I decided I wanted to do whatever God wanted for my life.  It is sometimes a constant struggle to question myself when I see that "so and so" are getting engaged, "so and so" are wedding planning, "so and so" are now pregnant."  I check my thinking ... is it pity, victim mentality, bitterness?  Sadly, sometimes it is.  But I'm human ... I'm a 27-year old single young woman that has desires to be married and have children one day.  OF COURSE I struggle with believing that I am walking out God's absolute best for my life!

And for the rest of my life, God's best could very well be ... singleness.  And I struggle with that because in my small human brain, I contemplate whether or not God REALLY knows what is best for me.  Am I somehow not good enough for someone else?  Am i somehow missing something because of who I am?  Do i need to change everything about who i am?  Do my friends in the relationships i have think that something is wrong with me?  Would they love me more if i had a husband and a few kids? 

I can finally say with all certainty ... no.  The friends that I have right now in my life, love me because I am me.  I'm funny, witty, snarky, kind, big-hearted.  They know that I care for them and about them.  The God that made me ... loves me because I am me.  He gave me all the qualities that make me who I am.  He gives me the ability and opportunity to reflect the character of His son, Jesus.  THATS what draws others ... not my marital status.  And now, after almost 10 years ... i believe that. 

Do I still have the desire to have a husband, to have a marriage that reflects Jesus and our relationship with Him?  HECK YES!  Does my heart still long for children of my own?  ABSOLUTELY!  Does my relationship with God teeter on the balance of my expectations?  Not anymore.  I may never kiss a single man, hold his hand, yank the covers over to my side of the bed, hold my own baby and send him off to college.  But ... my God is ALWAYS for me.  I still have hope for those things.  But they do not knock the knees of my faith out from underneath me every time i experience disappointment. 

I hope that one day, I can know what it's like to kiss one man for the rest of my life.  I hope that one day, I can know what it's like to have the ministry of "mom".  But even if i never do, I know I will always have Him.  Even if i never know the bliss of having those hopes fulfilled, He will never leave me.  Jesus is my hope, anchor, cornerstone.  He is always for me. 


Monday, August 4, 2014

In the middle of now(here)

sometimes all it takes is a moment of silence to feel the wave of life's current circumstances completely engulf you.  it doesn't really take much to sit down, look up and say, "i don't get it, where are you, God?"  And I've come to find that it's in the seasons of life we have deemed "in the middle of nowhere" that we give in.  We stop, turn around and go back.  Instead of going forward.  i agree it's more predictable to just turn around and "go home."  at least we know what to expect on the way back.  making the decision to go forward when you have no idea what to expect or if you even should expect anything...is rare.  what's more...knowing the feats and obstacles and even the disappointments you experienced just to get to "in the middle of nowhere" is quite the accomplishment.  but to decide to continue on your journey knowing what it has already cost you...and what it may cost you to keep moving ahead ... that's courage. 

I can nearly feel the heaviness of seeing someone getting to a point in their journey, bloodied, sweaty, exhausted, and saying in their heart, i just can't.  and so they turn around, and go back.  and along the way, on the blazed trail back, i can see the places where God showed up for them.  all the while, hanging their head and walking on by the boulders of faithfulness where God was, completely missing the reminder that, if He was there for us then, He will be with us now.

But I totally get it.

And i dont know who reads this jargon, if anyone does.  but i'll still be intentional on being vulnerable and sharing my struggles in my story.  God knows there's someone out there who has it worse than i do.  but maybe someone can even just be encouraged by reading about the faithfulness of my God in my life...that causes them to take even just one more step forward.  especially when it seems like the storms of life are relentless.  i hope you keep going.

it usually starts out with something we've planned.  our plans get squashed by life's circumstances and we are disappointed.  but we manage to somewhat put pieces together, maybe not exactly how we wanted it, but life is manageable and we see we can walk with a limp. it's not pretty, but it still works.  and maybe this time, we're a little more cautious, our risks aren't as great.  but then even our small risks  (which are really our expectations and plans) are again damaged.  it happens this way until finally, we throw our hands up in the middle of our nowhere and adamantly demand for God to show up.  and i've come to understand in my own journey...sometimes He leads me to the middle of nowhere.  Because that's where He is.  He's in the middle of my now/here.  Do you see it?

He's now and He's here.  He is now & here.  we choose to blame in our disappointments rather than search for Him.  so we miss Him.  I had plans for this summer, i had goals to reach.  They were all well and good.  And then stuff happened.  Some stuff i could control and others were completely out of my hands.  God was in the things I could control and He is still in the things I could not and cannot.

I left my full-time job at the beginning of May for some personal reasons.  And as i look back on that decision, I could have handled it differently.  I knew God was asking me to leave that job, however, there were some things I could have handled differently.  But I'm human, and I make mistakes and i hopefully learn from them so i don't repeat them.  and since making that decision to leave that job, even though it looked absolutely crazy even to me, i know in my heart that i made the right decision in moving on from there.  I spent 35 days unemployed, desperately searching for a new job.  Most days were spent online, submitting resumes, following advice from the state of Michigan in seeking employment and of course, begging God to show me His way.  And then, He did.  It was 35 days of learning how to trust God again that while it was heartwrenching and most days were uncertain, I wouldn't trade.  He was in the middle of my nowhere, my confusion, my anger, my hurt and my disappointment.

I got hired to work at a nursing home, helping others, something I love and get joy out of doing.  I spent my first 2 weeks getting to know the residents and learning to enjoy their company.  And in the same week, i was offered the opportunity to begin a regimine of home health care for a few days during the week.  An opportunity to be Jesus to someone else in their weakest moments.  I was so grateful to be able to step into this new season of life.

And as abruptly as those opportunities showed up, my world was flipped, almost literally.  The morning of June 16, I spent talking with Jesus. Sharing my heart and gratefulness for the doors He had opened.  Asking Him to use my life to show others the truth of who He is.  I shared some frustrations and asked for Him to begin opening doors to promises and desires I have yet to see come to pass in my life.  And after that, i decided to go for a bike ride...something i had started to love doing.  I made it nearly 8 miles from my house when i decided i had better turn back.  A split second is all it took.  I passed a gentleman riding his bike in front of me and when i veered to get back on the sidewalk, i saw my demise.  I could smell it before it even happened!  The grass had been edged and my bike tire fit snuggly inside of it, abruptly stopping and hurling me over the top of my bike handles. 

I must have closed my eyes when i went over but i was airborne long enough to have the nearly audible thought, "this is gonna hurt, i'm gonna hit hard."  And i did.  my sunglasses flew off my face when my head hit the sidewalk, i could feel the heat coming from my arm scraping the pavement, blood grazing the surface of my right arm and knuckles. And i saw my deformed left wrist.  Bent inward toward my body and the skin bulging over top of my watch i desperately tried to get off.  i did my best not to get dirt or blood in the back seat of the new car that stopped and drove me to the hospital.  a mom and daughter saw me and stopped.  they wouldnt let me get back on my bike to ride home.  before almost passing out, they shuffled me to their car and talked to me to keep me awake.  after only 2 hours in the ER, i went home with a broken bone.  the pain i experienced was the most excruciating i have ever felt.  i spent the entire night awake, writhing in pain.  2 days later, i saw a specialist who told me it was worse than a broken bone.

Broken in 2 places (one wrist bone, and one arm bone attached to a wrist bone) shattered thumb fragments and a chipped bone on the outside of my wrist.  an injury so severe that it required surgery, that left me with a permanent plate and 8 screws holding a bone together.  in the midst of all that, the one thing that weighed heavily on my mind was "i don't have insurance."  which lead into, i just started a new job, and it's gonna take 3 months for this injury to heal, i won't have an income, and the surgery is $5000?  my world came crashing down harder than i did over my bike that day.

Since June 16, nearly 2 months later, i've learned that God is still God.  He was in my nowhere.  He is in my now & here.  and though things still remain unclear and even some unresolved as it pertains to when i can return to work and when my insurance will finally be cleared to cover over $5000 in hospital and specialist and surgery fees, God already knew.  And if He already knew, then He already knows how.  And life is not easy.  And i'll be the first to admit that there are days when i'm more overwhelmed with the unknown rather than His grace.  there have been days in the past 2 months where i havent sought His peace, but rather saw the overwhelmingness of life's circumstances.  There have been days where i've sat in a moment of silence, and let the waves of life's circumstances swallow me whole.  But there have been more days where I've sat in a moment of holiness and asked God to overwhelm me with His grace.  There have been more days where i've said aloud His promises and His truths and believed them.

It helped me to keep going.  It continues to help me keep going.  Even on the days where I want to give up, and some days i even feel like i have given up, He's still faithful.  He's still true.  And He's still in the middle of nowhere.   


Saturday, June 14, 2014

Why I Hate June 14

When you begin to learn who you really are, sometimes the thigns that seem to best describe you and highlight your personalitiy turn on you like consuming week-old pizza.  I remember things...very well.  Even a faint smell can trigger a memory that plays back in my frozen fear.  Memories are one of the few powerful things that can build confidence one day and rip you up one side and down the other in the same breath.  I'll share a personal example of what I mean.

A few years ago I was at the mall and my nose was greeted with the smell of french fries.  But not just any kind of french fries...i call them "arena fries."  Arena fries are the ones you get from an ice arena.  I smelled them every time I had a hockey practice or a game in high school.  In a moment, I was swept back to my high school years of playing hockey and a flood of memories, both good and bad, drowned me in a sort of time-freezing nostalgia. 

"They" say time heals all things.  "They" don't exist.  Unless "they" have never experienced anything.  Time has no healing balm.  Time has no power.  Time is just a human limitation.  Time is a second hand, a long arm and a short arm.  It's some numbers that tick in ascending order in the day time and then tock in descending order in the darkness.  Time is nothing and everything at the same time.  It's just a thing.  It's something I have wished away and something i have grasped onto like it were oxygen.  It doesn't do what you want, and does everything you don't want.  Time reminds you.

Time reminds me...that I hate June 14. 

I feel like sometimes people will say anything, even if it's not true, if they think it will numb an injection of pain that grief and loss deliver.  But I've found that silence is even more comforting.  It means someone is listening.  It means they care enough to let you feel the pain.  I've felt it.  I've felt the pain of hearing piercing silence in response to my recurring question, "why?"  There won't ever be an answer.  Only silence.  And sometimes the silence splits like wood, sending splinters flying without regard, reckless in their path.

I know she's not under that stone.  I know she's not under the potted flowers.  I know she's not underground.  I don't know for sure what I believe.  As a Christian, I could sugar coat what death looks like.  That my grama now has angel wings and flies and flits around.  I could say that "she's always watching,"  I could say "she's never really gone,"  I could say "she's walking on streets of gold."  But really, I don't know.  Perhaps it's supposed to be a mystery to the living.  And sometimes, with the piercing silence, it's the not knowing part that splits like wood, the splinters of my half-put-together heart.  Half-put-together because I've rebuilt it with the "promises" that I struggle to believe are true.  I wrote 2 years ago that one of the only things that brought me comfort in those early morning hours of June 14, 2012, was the promise that "to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord."  But it really doesn't.  It was the only Bible verse I could think of.  It wasn't comforting.  It was just a thing I threw out there to take up time and space.  To band-aid over the pain i didn't want to feel.  A conversation bubble i spit out over my head to make me feel something other than what i didn't want to feel. 

After 2 years, this is all that I really know;
Death...is stupid.  I'm angry.  I hate June 14.  I wasn't strong, i was numb.  I'm more confused about suffering and death than i thought.  My grama died because cancer.  Because cancer.  Becasue cancer.
Because cancer won.  I touched cancer.  I felt it.  I saw it in action. I saw it live.  I watched it throw up blood and steal the sunlight of summer.  It lived in my old bedroom.  It stews in a room with her cothes in my old closet.  It sits.  It blows.  It lingers.  It sucks.  Cancer is stupid. 

And I miss her on the day that I hate.  I hate June 14. 


Thursday, May 29, 2014

Fossil Hunting & Extraction

From the archives, comes a year old post that sat in my draft folder.  This one comes from one of my nights sitting in a hospital room, in the dark, listening to a patient snore.  That was my job back then.  Sitting with patients in the hospital who needed to be supervised.  It was overnight, in a hard, uncomfortable chair, in the dim light of my cell phone that I met with God and heard Him talking to me as if He was sitting right next to me.  So I wrote down some things. 

Like a fossil that's just begun to be brushed off. And the thing about being buried for so long is that someone else needs to dig it up. Brush it off. And a fossil is handled with delicate care. It's displayed under lights & scrutiny & opinions. Then it gets named. Then everyone knows what its identity is. I wonder if the person who discovers the fossil is the one that names the fossil. A fossil can't discover itself. It can't name itself. Only the discoverer. 

God must be the one digging, brushing, pulling out of the ground, handling with care, researching it out, giving a name, displaying. 

That's the vision I have. I'm a fossil in the ground. Being dug up, brushed off, polished up, named & displayed. 

(random thought) Before something becomes a fossil, the organism has to die. 
During the extraction, the fossil is at its most vulnerable state; a well-planned extraction reduces the risk of damage and takes into consideration the desired end result. i.e. how the specimen will be prepared and displayed. 

So I did some digging... (ha...get it, digging...cuz fossils. never mind)
I found some stuff online about fossil research (so it MUST be true...) and found it very similar to the way God digs us out of the pits that we find ourselves in and bury deep to protect ourselves from the things around us.  And when He digs, He does it carefully.  And just because He's careful, doesn't mean it's not gonna hurt.  It just means He knows the value that's in you. 

(online research) In some cases it may be necessary to strengthen the specimen and/or surrounding matrix before progressing. For example it's common to find naturally occurring cracks passing nearby, beneath or even through the fossil; a weak matrix might crumble during the extraction and must therefore be stabilized before progressing. A fast-setting superglue is a controversial technique but useful in these situations, providing essential stability before hammering.
**** Note that overuse or misguided application can create irreversible damage to the specimen.**** 
As a general rule use as little glue as necessary and apply it as far from the specimen as possible - a drip of liquid superglue will follow the crack unaided. Avoid allowing the glue to make contact with the surface of the fossil as it can be difficult to remove. Once the fossil and matrix are stable the extraction can take place. (end online research)


Sunday, May 18, 2014

On Being (Un)popular

If you know what it means to be popular, then this post isn't for you.  Well, because, you already know.  When I look on my life, a lot of the decisions I've made...have been the (un)popular ones.  And now that I am old enough to look on them with a tiny bit of wisdom, most of the decisions I've made...have no regret attached to them.  Right or wrong. 

I was encouraged by someone to begin writing again and it was then, in that moment, that I realized I had actually stopped writing.  I have nothing worth sharing, I have nothing worth the time it would take someone to read through my jargon of uselessness. 

But I made the unpopular decision by not caring what other 'might' think about my writing and I'm writing anyway.  Part of the reason for my dormant writing behavior has been because well, there's been a lot of unpopularness going on in my life.  And since social media is all about showing off your best side, I really had no 'best' side to show off. 

So I'm making the unpopular decision by sharing my worst sides.  Which at the moment, seems to be all of them.  (Un)popular.

Maybe you've been unpopular enough to read some of my previous rants, and woven in and throughout all of them are truths, hurts, wounds, anger, confusion and realness.  The real unpopular things.  And there are popular things in them, too.  Like when things make me happy, when things are going well, when all the pieces of this unpopular life are seemingly fitting together quite nicely. 

But then there are other times...when the most unpopular thing to do...is to bear it all.  Not for the sake of pity "likes" or "comments" or "shares" on my social media pages.  But because my hope has always been that even if one person reads something that I have shared and finds an ounce of hope tucked inside, then this piddly blog has done what I had originally set out for it to do; help someone hope.

I made a really unpopular decision 3 weeks ago.  I quit my job.  And you might expect a long laundry list of excuses and reasons why I was right in doing so.  And I would expect that too!  But instead of what I expect, or what you expect, this is what is true.  I have never lived in faith up until about 10 days ago.  And regardless of the status of my decision, whether it was right or moronically wrong, it happened.  And I've been walking out the repercussions of that deision, both good and bad.  Because this is what I've learned in making decisions as an adult.  Even if you prepare yourself before setting out to make a big decision, and walk it out till the very end, somewhere after the decision was made, you'll go back and say, "why in the world did I do that?"  And I've had a lot of those moments...where I've considered the realm of stupidity I must have been living in when I made that decision to put in my 2 weeks. 

I've had many sleepless nights, moments of peace, times of panic, words of encouragement, portions of chaos and plenty of disappointments...all in the last 10 days.  I've had fits of rage (ok, not really rage), moments of doubt and genius plans about how to get revenge and cause retaliation towards those that hurt me in my previous work place.  A place that caused me to hit my knees in my bedroom before I began getting ready for the day.  A place that forced me to pray for protection and peace.  A place where I treasured the bathroom...because I could talk out loud to Him.  A place that, had I never seen pictures and video of war, I'd believe I was in a constant war zone, ducking and diving.  A place that forced me to go to Him because He truly was all I had. 

I had to rely on His Word of truth, His quiet whisper of encouragement, His gentle nudge of obedience, His strength to keep my mouth shut...in order for me to survive. 

In my 27 years, I cannot remember ever being treated with such disdain and betrayal.  And the things He asked me to do???  I doubted whether I was hearing Him at all. 
But at the beginning of that 5 month journey, I asked Him to help me to hear Him and I always want to be where He wants me to be.  So I did the unpopular thing...by inviting my superior to church.  Not because I wanted to, not because I wanted to hug her and sit by her, and not because I wanted to just get it checked off my list of things God had asked me to do and move on, but because I was reminded many times that this human being was hurting.  And there would never ever be anything I could do or say to fix her but He can.  So I put aside the namecalling, the backstabbing and the conspiracy against me and invited her to church.  

She didn't show on Easter Sunday.  I wasn't surprised.  And so after that I thought, "ok, things will get better."  They didn't.  They got worse.  And worse.  And worse.  For the last 3 weeks that I was employed there, I was belittled and berated and spoken to numerous times about my abilities.  Not even just as an employee...but as a fellow human.  I made my decision to move on.  I went quietly on the outside, but on the inside, my heart looked like a war-torn land, desolate, abandoned, smoking, with fists raised and arrows of anger poised and ready to sling.  

So I did the unpopular thing.  I kept my mouth shut and I moved on.  I had an interview 7 days later and I was confident it was "in the bag."  I found out 3 days later, it wasn't "in the bag" at all.  I didn't get the new job.  I found out as I was sitting in my car in the pouring down rain.  And after I got the phone call, I couldn't be sure if the puddles that formed were from my tears of disappointment and devastation or the storm overhead.  I hung my head in failure and raised my questions in anger.  

So I did the unpopular thing.   I forgave the ones that treated me the way they did from my previous job.  I let go of the grip of frustration and grief.  I loosed the chokehold I had over my own neck by allowing that experience whisper the lies of failure into my soul.  I forgave myelf.    

I'm doing the unpopular thing...I'm living in faith.  I'm counting on God.  I'm believing that He has my best in mind.  I'm believing that no weapon formed against me will ever prosper.  I'm believing that nothing can separate me from the love of God, in which the height, depth, width and longevity of it cannot ever be fathomed my man.  Ever.  

I'm doing the unpopular thing.  I'm trusting in Him in the midst of what may seem to be a great defeat.  Because maybe it's in the moments of your greatest defeat that He shows up with the biggest miracle.  Maybe.   

I'm unpopular.