Kingdom work is kindness to a stranger and encouragement for a co-worker. 

Kingdom work is sitting with a friend in the darkest of circumstances and offering nothing but my time and presence and silent prayers. 

Kingdom work is self-sacrificial and laying down my own ideals for whatever God is calling me to. 

Kingdom work is not irksome or proud or haughty but proclaims boldly with love that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. 

Kingdom work is the smallest of the small and the little decisions that make the difference in the lives of others. 

Kingdom work is standing for truth with a heart full of love, even when the truth is unpopular and people are throwing their words like darts at a bullseye.

Kingdom work then, is eternal. Knowing no bounds it continues, day by day and hour by hour until the return of Jesus. Never forsaking others, never giving up, never quitting, because He is with us and it is His strength, not our own, that will see us through. And He that is IN US, is GREATER than he that is in the world. 

Many times we need to reframe the sacred. If we are holy, set apart, then nothing that we do should be ordinary or common. It may appear that way, but we should rest assured that everything done in FAITHFULNESS is important. Steadfast. Long-suffering. Perseverance. These are some of the words that scripture uses to describe the life of a Christ follower. Yet, there is beauty and joy. I recently walked through a season where I felt the valley of the shadow of death weighing on me. I was convinced that this was just the earth and we were all destined to endure it. And while it’s true, a piece of that brokenness and fall from grace will be tangible as long as we are here pre-Second Coming, it is also true that Jesus told us we were equipped to do HIS will, on earth as it is in heaven. And so in that the Lord has been reminding me that I am meant to enjoy. EN-JOY. In Joy. As Nehemiah 8:10 reminds us ”The joy of the Lord is your strength.” Say it as a prayer- Lord, the joy you give is my strength!

We weren’t meant to trudge through any of this alone. He gives us community, his church, his bride, as full of imperfect people as it is and more than that He gives us His Spirit.

Everything we do has the ability to be Kingdom Work when reframed in the right way, and it is important. No matter the season, you were meant to enjoy it, not because of what the work itself is, but because He who strengthens you and equips you is IN you and WITH you and FOR you. So, whatever you are doing today, remind yourself- this is God’s work.

The post Kingdom Work appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

I could sum it up nicely- say the past 7.5 years have been awesome (they have), that God has done amazing things (He has), but for me, the process to see myself as a church leader, a pastor even, has been one marked by a lot of changes, a lot of ups and downs, and many difficulties. There was one night in particular that I remember laying in bed telling Andy ”the cost is just too great, I don’t think I can do it….” in regards to being in ministry and in a leadership role. I was so led by fear I was willing to let go of God’s will. SO. LED. BY. FEAR. I WAS. WILLING. TO. LET. GO.

Thankfully I have a husband who is an encourager and can see my fear and call it for what it is. One who doesn’t let me quit due to my emotion or my past hurts.

When we got to the church we had high hopes. For the first time in my life, I was excited to see what God could do through a church. I knew that he could heal, I knew that he could facilitate forgiveness, and I knew that he called us to be his hands and feet. What I didn’t know was possible was the RADICAL transformation that my heart and mind have undergone. What I didn’t know is that Holy Spirit could be revealed to me in such a real and tangible way.

It reminds me of the scripture in John 12:25 Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. I never got that scripture. In many ways I was convinced that it all hinged on this world. I saw the spiritual but I didn’t realize that most things in this world and beliefs have a spiritual component. On a logical level, I knew your families and your systems mattered but I didn’t realize they had the profound impact they do on how you view God and how you see what is possible. I had to fall out of love with my own standards and ideals and plans and in love with his. I had to ”hate” what this world has to offer and come to know that it ALL relies on my Savior if it is to be anything good, holy, worthy, worthwhile. HE is the key that unlocks the love that can change everything.

There aren’t enough words to explain. The overwhelming sense of awe I have for a creator who set the world in motion and is also the God that loves us enough to send his son is incredible. I want to hold it. To cherish it. To keep my first love my first love. And that is something that I could not comprehend 7 years ago, probably even 3 or 4 years ago.

Andy and I put down roots in a community. And that is hard. That means that you endure the storms. You stay planted even when everything in you wants to say ”Okay God, I am moving myself to a new garden now!” Because you realize that while that may FEEL easier in the here and now, it is not what is best for your roots, for your future flourishing.

About 2.5 years in to our being part of DLC the pastors that we loved, who had befriended us and mentored us, felt called away from ministry. It was the caring words of the lead pastor saying God loves and desires everyone, and that DLC would be a place where ALL felt welcome, that had drawn us to that church in the first place. What was happening? We had felt a shifting, we knew that everything was not precisely as it should be, but to be told that the sense we had was right on and we were being handed into the hands of someone almost entirely unknown was like ”Say what now?!” This was a new territory for us.

I always want to leave in situations of distress. In the fight or flight mentality, I am flight ALL THE WAY. At the time, I certainly felt like I was fought out. Just being real. I think having to remain “in it” all those years as a PK while being hurt, made the reality of me being ABLE to leave that much more appealing. It felt as if finally I was free to make my own choice as to where I was planted. But the truth is, if we don’t listen to God’s voice as to where he wants us to plant, we are living in idolatry. Again, I FELT like I finally had autonomy…meaning I could finally make my own decisions! Yet, just because we can, does not mean we should.

Just before the pastoral transition was one such time where I felt like making the decision to ”fly away.” We felt like, after 2.5 years, it may be time to go. (I think there is a recurring theme here)! But this time we had reached some spiritual maturity. We knew we shouldn’t make these kind of decisions on our own. Andy and I fasted and prayed together (a first!) and I heard nothing. Zero. Perhaps I could not will myself to hear the voice of the Lord saying “stay.” After all at times he is a barely audible whisper. We have to WANT to hear Him. But, Andy heard. And I knew that whatever his decision was, I needed to be in agreement. So, we stayed at Discover Life Church. We stayed only to be told shortly later that our lead pastors were leaving.

That meant a new pastor! There is always an element of excitement and a honeymoon phase when a new leader comes in. Then, there is that moment when you are acutely aware that the honeymoon is over. It was hard. Less the pastoral transition and more that we had so many goodbyes. Many friends have left and transitioned to another church. Some admitted that DLC never felt like ”home” and that they needed to go back to their old church. Church remains hard many times because life is hard, and people are…well, people.

In the past few years Andy and I have grown exponentially. We have seen God show up in ways we never thought imaginable. We have been pushed, discipled, offended, encouraged, bewildered and in complete awe. This is a very nicely packaged and brief description of the last few years, but in this instance I think that the most important thing to note is in the face of adversity, trials and testing we obeyed the voice of the Lord.

I think more than anything else, more than anything I have learned, is that steadfastness, staying in the this ”good fight of faith,” results in many surprises, yes, but it is also paves the way to the goodness of God. He has never left us, and He has never forsaken us. Even when we made the wrong turns, the bad decisions, the unfaithful moves, He stayed. As Rascal Flats crooned many years ago, the road is broken. We were able to get back up and continue to pursue Him because He was so kind to us. He kept drawing us deeper, and I am so thankful that for all the times I wanted to run away screaming, I chose to remain in faith instead. Andy and I both have chosen to keep going, despite the odds. WE MADE IT and we are stronger than ever.

I get it, it’s difficult to do. And I am still learning, still growing. I don’t think I will ever arrive, nor will my life ever be perfect, but I am more assured now than ever that Jesus is THE ONLY way, truth and life out there. He wants to show you too. So, if you are a person of faith in Jesus, keep seeking, keep pressing, stay ”in it.” If you aren’t a person of faith, I invite you to consider asking Him to show you if He is real. I believe that He is just the type to show us how valuable we are to Him.

The post My Story- Part 9 appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

As my story, now our story, continues, I can now look back and see God’s hand all over it. Preparing me, shaping me, running me through the many necessary processes to grow me into a place where I can truly see myself, and others, in a light that reflects the Father’s intent. I think I was always keen to see some others. Although I would never say it out loud, there were worthy and unworthy, when it really came down to it. And now, of course the problem of evil still exists and I would give pause to those who seem overcome with it, I can see people. People are people. We aren’t ever going to be perfect. But we all need Jesus, and with his help, with his reflection in us, we can be something beautiful. (To discuss beauty outside of salvation is another topic for another day).

When we were just about church planted out, my dad told me about a little church he thought I’d like. It had hosted a favorite author of mine a few years prior, so we decided to check it out. It was a rare breed. In my mind’s eye I now see this as our healing church. I think, under any other pastor on any given Sunday, we had the potential to throw our hands up and say “Forget it!” This pastor was different from most. Kind, unassuming, forgiving, humble. He actually answered “I don’t know” if he didn’t know, rather than feeling the need to take a theological stance on every topic within Christianity.

We had been a part of church plants that revolved around the charisma and personality of one person, and this church didn’t seem to want that. It was simple really, let’s pursue the way of Jesus together. While we *only* stayed three years, that was actually real progress for us! We made some close friendships and met the kindness of God through the pastor there. Ultimately, we didn’t feel a real sense of community beyond our little group, so we decided to leave, but as is often the case when people leave churches, there was no offense with church leadership at all. We simply thought “We don’t belong here.”

I think the nicest part of that experience for me, and I think this is where Andy and I might differ, is that when we left I no longer had a question of IF we fit in at a church but rather WHERE we fit.

Now, more than ever I knew I wanted to know Jesus more. I had questions, but I was too afraid to ask anyone. I had been in church all my life. Wouldn’t that look silly? Shouldn’t I know this stuff?

So, I actually left open to possibilities. WAY more open than I had been just three years prior.

Around this same time we went to a movie and I saw an ad for a church that was meeting in the movie theater. I secretly thought the ad sounded cool but didn’t want to admit that to Andy. I think I made a joke about it instead. A couple weeks later our friend called and invited us to that very church. Andy, still tinged with the cynicism that can only come with rejection, commented that he wasn’t interested if they had a smoke machine. The friend quipped back, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

We were about to go on vacation to Disney, but the church/theater was close to our house, so we decided to go anyway. We visited Discover Life Church one sunny Sunday in late November at the Regal Cinema in John’s Creek, GA. That was just over seven years ago. And our life has been shifting ever since.

The post My Story- Part 8 appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

We are all in process. Our process in the early years of marriage I will call ”just trying to figure it out.” I still had so much religion in me, I just knew that I was failing in many ways. But gosh darn it (because if you say the other word you go you know where) I was going to try to do the whole church thing! And Andy was so new in faith I think he needed to believe that this whole community of faith thing wasn’t a complete sham. There had to be some folks in it for the sheer love of Jesus and wanting to change the world to be a better place. Right?!

We attended several different types of church. We went to concert venues, coffee shops and hit the streets. We visited small community theaters and church basements and elementary schools. In our first two years of marriage we were on two launch teams for two different churches and with each we thought ”This is it!” Until they weren’t.

To say that each church imploded is understatement. One of the pastors is now infamous, leaving his church in quite a state before their implosion, and the other we lost track of after he moved away to start over. I wish each of them well, but in retrospect they were both so influenced by culture in different unique ways that it was always going to be hard to do something God-focused there. Obsession with Christian celebrity and “making it” is not the way to start a ministry. But nor is being SO concerned with “not being a part of the machine” that you lose the entire gospel message. Very early on we experienced both of these situations. In the first, we walked away shaking our heads. In the second, we walked away extremely hurt and asking ”what did we just witness?” We had joined our lives with the others on the launch team, and then one day it all came crashing down complete with the scandal of financial dishonesty, emotional affairs and divorce. It was painful and bewildering. How did Jesus followers who were self-described leaders behave so unlike Jesus?

So, again, we were left asking, ”is this really what church is about?”

We were still ”free thinkers” who didn’t know what we believed exactly, only that we were looking for a better way. How ironic that I now know the early church was called ”The Way.” We humans sure have a way of digressing from the original point. But now I digress.

Andy and I, and now our baby girl Gemma, found a small community near our house that was also a church plant. However, this time it had already launched, was new but not planning the first Sunday new, and we thought ”ok, we can be part of establishing something different.” While our other churches had been theologically ambiguous, this new church was not. It was part of the Evangelical Free Church (EFC). If you do not know what this denomination is, don’t worry, neither did I.

It was a small denomination, and although I am not certain now, at the time it did not feel like a church where I had to worry about too much Holy Spirit being mentioned. Although I was never a cessationist (one who believes the gifts of the Holy Spirit died along with the apostles and/or the complete canonization of Scripture), I also did not want to be one of those “crazy Christians” who scare people. I had gone to their summer camp and tried to be one but I wasn’t spiritual enough for the gifts, so alas, it was not in the cards for me. So, an EFC denomination felt safe.

It was safe. And for a while we were happy. We made friends. We worshiped Jesus. But I felt like there was more. I was still missing something. I would love to tell you I prayed about it but I didn’t. Leaving that church was a purely selfish and emotional decision. Rather than trying to be the ”more” or asking the Lord what I could do, we left. I had found a ladies Bible study at another church that was helping me to connect to the Word for the first time in a real way, and so for a minute I thought ”Maybe I’m a Methodist!” Looking back I now see that we were both very hurt. We were battered and bruised, and instead of going to the Father for a solution we were looking for one in our own strength. But, I will never forget that Bible study or those ladies, as they set me on a path of walking towards Jesus, who is the true healer.

So, I was now ready for a new part of my journey.

The post My Story- Part 7 appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

When we met, she was my light. In a life of darkness, that, to sum it up contained an abusive upbringing, drug use, homelessness, heart stopping (3 times), guns in my face, and ended with a stab wound in my stomach, eviction, and sleeping in a gas station bathroom, she was my light. 

As we began to talk, I had questions about God, because, how could someone so intelligent believe in something (or someone) so ridiculous? So I asked questions. Do you know when someone is telling you a story about their friend, and you never doubt whether or not that person is a friend or not, even though you’ve never met them?  That is how Andrea answered each and everyone of my questions. I don’t remember all of her answers. What I do remember is thinking to myself, “She knows Him.”. Those conversations changed my heart, which changed my mind, which changed my life.  I accepted Christ, and had this thought in my heart, “I am gong to be a minister”. However I had no clue what that meant, or what it looked like. I think I thought it meant motivational speaker, if I’m being honest. 

Getting to know Andrea was special for me. I think her draw to me was that I didn’t see her as broken, but I could tell she viewed herself that way. (That and my incredibly good looks and witty charm.) Though there were things in her life that she was dealing with, she didn’t have to be embarrassed to tell me. In exchange, I got to spend time with someone way smarter than me, but would never admit it. She would listen to my stories and would not react. And in some strange way, the way she responded to me made me feel like maybe God could love me like everyone kept saying. 

I began attending church with her regularly and connected into the tech team because… I think in Acts chapter 46 it says, “All recovering addicts will serve in tech.”.  I digress… I started attending church with her, regularly. So that I could learn about this Jesus. 

As a dad now, I can only imagine what must have been going through her dad’s mind when she shows up with this skinny, 2 week sober man-child who owned one pair of jeans with blood stains all over them from bar fights and… an unfortunate stabbing. However, he and her mom were super nice and welcoming to me. It was healing to be seen as a human again, so my journey continued. 

I should pause the story to say this.  I have really bad recollective memory. It’s from years of drug abuse, I’m certain, but it’s hard for me to put a timeline together of something that happened more than 2 years ago. So as I tell this story, I might jump around a little, but that doesn’t change the process I went through. 

So, I’m attending church, and as the months go on, I begin to see that, from my perspective, the church isn’t that much different than the world. The biggest difference I could tell is someone at church wouldn’t stab you in your stomach. They’d stab you in your back. 

As disfunction began to happen around me, and I started to notice people mumbling about the pastor (Who… was my girlfriend’s dad), I couldn’t deny what had happened in my life. I couldn’t deny that He was real… I realized.. much like Andrea when we met, I knew him. What was hard for me to reconcile was… did any of these people?  I know that sounds super judge-y, but I like to imagine I’m writing what other people may have felt at some point. Because let’s be real, if you’ve spent time in church, you probably at one point realized that church is filled with…. PEOPLE! 

Instead of realizing that people make people mistakes, and can fall into the traps of offense, guilt, shame and sin, I decided that church was broken. 

Back then, (Who am I and how am I old enough to say that) blogs were kind of the vehicle of the gospel. The best part?  I could always find something that fit my opinion to a T! Here starts my journey of so quickly tearing down what I had learned. 

I read blogs, dreaming of a different gospel. We still attended church, it was kind of a non-negotiable, and we still loved it. But these blogs and these dreams fueled us for something different. We slowly began to dream of a different way. It would be super encouraging for everyone reading to hear me say that we had a plan beyond the dream. But we didn’t. We were in love. Disenfranchised. Frustrated. Confused… and I was supremely uneducated. So, instead a plan, I had a complaint. If you’re where I just described, I’d recommend stopping. A complaint will take you no where fun. As I’m sure you’ll read in the coming months of Andrea’s story. (Which will probably involve me) 

2008 turned into one of the biggest years of my life. I proposed. (Poorly, on top of a MARTA station) She said Yes, (A decision that sometimes she probably questions). Andrea’s grand-daddy passed away. We got married. Her parents finalized their divorce and I got to see the dirty dirty side of church. Before now, I was disenfranchised by simple rumblings, gossip and petty complaints. What happened after the divorce was way darker. Our church, as we knew it, was over. I wish it had happened as simply as I just typed it, but alas, it did not. People who were pouring into my life had given me an ultimatum. “Me or Pastor”. (Who, now was my father-in-law) People who I went to for advice would no longer speak to me.  People who, two weeks ago, I considered my closest sober friends were, for all intents and purposes, gone. People who I viewed as spiritual authorities, turned their backs on me, because of my new family. 

And just like that, all of my previous suspicions were confirmed. They won’t stab you in the stomach. But, man… my back hurt. 

The post Andy’s side of the church story appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

I started attending Revolution Church in Little Five Points. If you are familiar with Little Five Points, it was kind of the neighborhood of Atlanta where those who thought of themselves as different hung out. There were punks, bikers, in-betweens, and just a good mix of “alternative” folks. I heard Jay Bakker preach and it resonated with me. If there’s anyone who has a “right” to craft a reactionary theology and go look for the good, it’s the son of Jim and Tammy Faye, amiright? If you don’t know the story- you can find it HERE. He was definitely critical of Christian fundamentalism, and he had his reasons. At the time, he was not openly preaching inclusivity or unorthodox teaching at that time, but he was focused on love. There were a lot of people in the room who did not look like people at most churches. We posted signs that said “I’m sorry” for the hate and vitriol most Christians were aiming at large groups of people at the time (the homosexual community being the biggest). I saw this as doing something right. As I cleared from my fog, Revolution started losing steam, Jay Bakker moved to New York to launch another ministry there.

But. This was my gateway to the Emergent church. 

The movement that didn’t all in all reject the label of Christianity, but certainly the norms that it was known for. What could be better? Caring for the poor, not idolizing the pastor or preacher, calling in to question how the church operated and why, these were all great characteristics of the movement. But little by little the questioning started to delve into questions regarding the validity of scripture, the truth of creation, the person of Jesus. A movement that asked good questions suddenly had me asking even more questions, without giving any answers to my first set of questions, except to say “we” needed to do better. Well. Certainly. 

I was still attending regular “church,” but my heart was not in it. As I pulled away into a faith that felt more right for me, I also kept at the back of my mind that I needed whatever “this” was. I don’t think giving up on faith was ever an option for me, but I questioned a lot. As I met, dated and married my husband, his story made faith more real to me than ever. Andy has an incredible story, of addiction, battling almost every kind of abuse imaginable, but still having a hope? Being saved and delivered? That couldn’t be for nothing. And, well, that was enough to make me think. He asked me questions and I thought more. As I answered his questions about God and faith and went on his journey with him, I decided, I guess I really do believe all this stuff. At this point, my story really becomes our story, and I am probably going to have him jump in here and share with you his side of this period soon.

Although we were in a traditional church space, we saw ourselves and self-described as progressive Christians, and we dreamed of a day where church wouldn’t be confined to the spaces and ways that we saw it. 

We read Tony Campolo and Shaine Claiborne and Brian McLaren and lamented all the ways that Christians were mean-spirited. “We” were not living up to our call to care for orphans and widows. Instead, Bible thumping and telling those who questioned their sexuality they were wrong and going to hell seemed to be the norm. Caring way more about the speck in others’ eyes than the plank in our own. We, Andy and I, cared about people who had little and we didn’t view it as their fault. Before having kids we would go to Atlanta and give out sandwiches and visit with the homeless to celebrate New Year’s Eve. We were called idealists, sure, but we wanted to live in a more loving way.

I knew Christians (And had been one at the wee age of 14) who were intent on pointing out every sin of others but I never saw them do any self reflection or show public signs of repentance. I know I cannot judge their private lives, but I am only sharing what I observed. So, if the Bible was just a rule book, God was angry at people because they weren’t following the rules. Enter people who told us there was another way to follow Jesus that all at once was more loving and kind, so yep, we wanted to sign up.

We were so happy, so naive, when we got married, but in many ways it was also a very HARD year. My parents’ divorce was final. My grandfather passed away. And then… the church split. Not to mention some very unhealthy habits of my own that probably made my husband question my sanity at times.

As we entered our first year of marriage we were both increasingly frustrated with church though. Not God, but his people. We loved many of them, and to list and thank all the people who were for there for us during our early years would be too many. God was definitely there, providing direction and guidance in the way of his people, but as my parent’s divorce became news for public consumption, well, sin that can be gawked at has a really weird way of bringing out the worst in Christians…. The church we were in, pastored by my dad, failed in an epic and ugly way. We were left without a church family and suddenly there were certain people who I didn’t feel at ease with (certainly there were certain people who were very kind, but others who shunned us because we didn’t shun my dad). So….without a church home and with little to no “spiritual family” left, our search for a better way continued. 

The post My Story- Part 6 appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

However, today I just wanted to pop in with a gentle reminder to all of you out there who follow Jesus.

To be overflowing we have to fill up with something.

Let me reiterate that one more time, to overflow we have to fill up first.

What does this mean, you may ask? I am asking myself the same question. But I felt the Holy Spirit whisper something to me this morning. “I will redeem the time.” No time spent with him is lost. No time spent with Him is pointless. Time spent worshiping, reading your word, focusing on the One who made you, it is HOW we fill up with Him and become an overflow to others. I fill up by taking myself out of my circumstances and worshiping. I read my Bible. I pray- but often times I just need to shut my mind off and worship. And then listen for his voice. He is there. He is always there. But I have to invite him in if I want to hear Him. I have to say, “Hey Lord, I am here for YOU.” Maybe your process is different! And that’s okay. We are unique personalities with unique ways we connect to the Father.

But let’s suffice it to say I am not always filling up on the good stuff. I spend some days lamenting more than I praise. I wonder how that affects those around me…..

I am never one for ignoring emotions, but nor can I let my emotions excuse me from walking out who I know I am called to be. It seems so simple (and it is!) but as I look around I am just reminded of how we, as Christ followers, in our frail human state, so often get of course. We fill up on religion and then we pour out self-righteousness and condemnation. We fill up on the world and we pour out hypocrisy. We fill up on our complaints and anxieties and we pour out vitriol that no one in their right mind wants to be around. Sometimes we get it all out, and we just feel empty.

As I texted two dear sisters in Christ this morning, we have to keep the first thing the first thing. Fill up on Him! Once we are called, once we discover who Jesus is, then the only thing that makes sense is to live like it! 2 Peter, chapter 1 tells us.

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.

He has given us everything we need. EVERYTHING we need. But if we don’t spend time with him, if we don’t fill up with Him, do we still have it all?

Galatians 5:1 tells us that it is for freedom we are set free. Freedom from what? The slavery and yoke to sin. The very thing that God knows will lead us into death and decay- not only in our spirits but in our minds and bodies as well. It is no wonder or coincidence that treating our bodies unkindly by over consuming drugs or alcohol lead to death and decay of our physical bodies. Is it any wonder then that in the same way over consuming the world and its ideals and relative “truths” will lead our spirits into death and decay. In essence, we are FREE to go to Jesus and live through his righteousness and his strength all day everyday!

FILL UP with his goodness!

Not with religion, not with trying in your own strength to play by the Christian “rules,” not with your own self-help or quick fix like wine or a shopping spree- these things are fleeting. But the Lord, he is from everlasting to everlasting. Being with Him will help you overflow with love, goodness, kindness, gentleness, humility- all those things that embody our ideals- because at our hearts, at our very core we were made for them because we are in His image. Being with Him will restore our perfect peace- that has nothing to do with our circumstances but the state of our soul.

Thanks for being here. Praying for anyone who might read this to go fill up on Him!

The post Fill up appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

For anyone just joining in on my story, I start here. If you have been reading along with me for the last few weeks, thank you for being here. I did not know that some of this needed to be written, but as I wrote today’s the tears flowed, because the heaviness of what I have been delivered from was tangible to me. I pray that if you are in the same place, needing a burden lifted, this story gives you hope that Jesus can and will lift it.

Before I get to the emergent church and how that was a part of my journey, before I even tried to figure out if church held any truth for me anymore, there was college…

I will skip over my early college years, because in essence it was just a roller coaster of emotions and emotional decisions. I was good and then I wasn’t. Striving in my own strength to do the right thing and then failing miserably. I was a smoker. And then I quit. Then I would start again. And then I would quit. And well… you get the picture. The world had gotten a hold of me. I could create my own happiness. For a moment.

I went to a small evangelical school in a small town, and I met some lovely people there. But I was searching for my identity. I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be for that matter.

I moved back to Georgia, back in with my parents, to try to establish myself. Newly enrolled in a state school, I changed my major to English. I moved home to a church that seemed to be doing well, parents who seemed to be doing better, and I made a commitment that, at 20 years old, I would leave that life of searching behind. It was time I started acting like a Christian. And so all my problems would then be solved….or so I thought. In ways that can only be seen in retrospect, that year got kind of out of control. I did well for a few months, but towards the end of my first semester at my new college I met a boy. We’ll call him X. About this same time I found out about a real life affair of my father’s. I had already “messed up” a few times, but I started regularly drinking and smoking again, literally immediately. I remember calling two girlfriends on that same day and sitting outside on a bar patio. As I barely held it together, I ordered a vodka martini and literally chain smoked (I had just turned 21). Was my life a joke, I wondered? Could I trust anything? Or anyone?

I honestly don’t think this would be a big turning point for me, had I not just met X. I might have just been able to lean on my friends and hear wisdom from one of the few mentors I found. But oh, how my new relationship became a situation. He wasn’t always a villain. He could be kind and fun, he liked taking me new places. We went out for sushi (my first time!) and out on his parents boat. The beginning of our relationship was good. When he wasn’t drinking things were fine, he might make the occasional remark about my weight or my smoking, he might demean me at times or try to embarrass me, but I could deal. However, when he drank, things could become quite dark. I had never been scared of a man before, but by the end I feared him. I knew that he was capable of saying and doing hurtful things when he drank too much. And finally, I knew that if I stayed I would be damaged somehow.

My last night with him I quietly tiptoed down the stairs, so at to not wake him. I had waited for him to pass out, fearfully wondering if I would make it out of the room without a physical scar. I had been drinking, so I laid on the kitchen floor with my face against the cold tile and called a friend to come and get me. Thank God she answered and she came, no questions asked. The next day he didn’t even remember. So, I thought about going back to him, and I listened to him cry, with regret at the thing that he couldn’t remember. I don’t think he was scared of losing me as much as he was just scared of losing anything. But, I gathered every ounce of courage I had and left that relationship with a little dignity still in tact. Much later I almost did go back to him, but I didn’t.

However, I was scarred. And I didn’t know how to cope. The years that ensued were me trying to cope. And I did well at times. But others I very much didn’t. Bad decisions (and another very bad relationship) led the way to a sexual assault when I was 22. I was “hanging out” with a friend of a friend for a second time and I had simply drank too much to fight any harder than saying “no.” It wasn’t my fault, I know that now. But I also know I never would have been in the time and place and mindset for it to happen if I wasn’t “coping” through self-medicating and being in places I knew I should not be.

I walked around for the next few months in a kind of fog. The day I graduated from college was not a happy day. The depression had reached a level where I had to force myself out of bed. Force myself not to cry. I felt like an actor in the play of my life. I remember driving up to my surprise party and realizing what was happening and my heart dropping, I now had to fake it in front of 50-odd people? I already felt at my capacity faking it for my parents, and now I know they too were doing the same, trying to force something to work for their kids. I was hurting and graduating from college made it all the more real. What was I to do now? Where was I to go?

The Lord works everything for the good of those who love Him, though. And so now I am able to say there is hope and there is healing for women who have suffered at the hands of an abusers, for those who have struggled to walk away. I know because I have experienced it. He can make the desolate fields green again. The broken He makes beautiful. But even at the time, as I struggled with depression, to keep myself together on the outside so no one could see that deep down I felt broken, I knew I was missing something, and I would come to discover in time that that something was Jesus.

The post My Story- Part 5 appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

I love studying the meaning of numbers from scripture, and it was amazing to me to see that 40 signifies trials or testing. During the flood it rained for 40 days and 40 nights, the Israelites wandered for 40 years in the desert, and I could go on (see my link for more instances and explanation)! As I turn 40 next year I will be entering my 41st year. I can’t help but wonder if it will be some sort of turning point. I know that trials will never leave us, but I feel like I am at a point in my journey of learning who God is, who he made me to be, and that I may just be on to leaving some of my old fears, insecurities and ways behind.

But here goes, my top 40 Christmas list.

1. As a child, searching for the best lights with my dad and little sisters, usually my mom too, driving around all of Atlanta and outskirt neighborhoods he knew while listening to Christmas music on the radio.
2. Going out to my grandfather’s cold garage office and turning the dial to 94.9, The Peach, every year after Thanksgiving, where I would wait in anticipation for my favorite “secular” Christmas song to come on- “Last Christmas” by Wham!
3. The smell of a fresh tree and sticky fingers from the sap while setting it up and putting on ornaments.
4. Warm fires and candlelight.
5. Family and togetherness, even when I was an angsty teenager it felt good to have a tribe, that while you may doubt how much they like you for you, you never doubt their love.
6. The Rich’s tree and downtown Atlanta shopping. I was born at the end of an era y’all. Atlanta still somewhat resembled the cities of black and white Christmas movies, my great-grandmother still dined at department store dining rooms and going there and being so small in a place so big made it feel all the more like I was special.
7. Church Christmas productions. For a kid who loved to be on stage, the highlight of my year was a play where it was all about love and singing and acting and praising Jesus, even in my limited view of what that meant.
8. Christmas Eve services.
9. Oh Holy Night.
10. My dad’s breakfasts. They’re infamous. It’s like a box of chocolates….ya never know what you’re going to get! He has tried some interesting recipes over the years….stuffed crescent roll French toast anyone???
11. My kids singing Christmas songs, even my eight year old Levi under his breath like he is too cool but can’t help himself.
12. My oldest Gemma’s homemade presents. She is so thoughtful.
13. My sisters (after I had moved out) forgot my mom‘s stocking one year. So, after running to the gas station to fill it up my mom’s stocking now has to include THESE!
14. Downtown Lawrenceville Christmas Tree lighting.
15. Getting to BE the parent that sets up the presents and hangs the stockings and see the joy on the kids’ faces.
16. At the same time, teaching my kids giving is better than receiving and the REAL meaning of the Advent season.
17. Cheesy Christmas movies.
18. Home Alone 2. The best Home Alone hands down. My family’s must watch Christmas movie is Elf, but mine is this one, no question.
19. Baking Christmas cookies.
20. Eating Christmas cookies.
21. My mom’s house. It is always so warm and cozy, and if you love snowmen decor you’ll feel right at home.
22. GOOD eggnog- I am not talking about the store bought stuff, I am talking about these passed down for generations recipes that some of y’all have and are nice enough to share when I come to your houses….they may or may not have a little something something added to them.
23. Christmas caroling. It’s been a while but it’s still fun.
24. My stepmom’s hashbrown casserole, when she blesses us with it. My kids always want to know if every hash brown casserole is going to be like Oma’s, and usually the answer is sadly “no.”
25. The way my youngest Phoebe delights in finding our elf Lucy, even though we wish we had never started the tradition, it will live on a couple more years because of her childlike wonder.
26. Cold Christmases. There is nothing better than NOT feeling like you are in the tropics on Christmas.
27. My husband’s family Christmas. I have been blessed to be welcomed into their Polish Catholic traditions, and I must say they are all just lovely. Pierogi? Yes, please.
28. The smell of Cinnabon in the mall and shopping among the lights and decorations for the ones you love the most.
29. Sitting at home in house shoes shopping for the other ones you love the most because 4 hours at the mall was your quota and you only bought for 3 people.
30. Advent. The anticipation. The countdown.
31. Making my kids hot cocoa and taking them to see Christmas light displays.
32. Wearing Christmas attire. Since when is a Christmas sweater deemed ugly??
33. God always shows up. There is always some miracle, big or small, in our own lives that is evidenced through the joy and season of Christmas.
34. The generosity of others. The ability to be generous.
35. When people express their thankfulness, for me, for life, for others. It’s an encouragement and a beautiful thing to witness.
36. Waffle House on Christmas Day.
37. NOT getting ready on Christmas Day (staying in PJs).
38. Friends who are like family that I get to celebrate with. I am blessed.
39. Jesus. Born in a manger. The virgin birth. A miracle that was set up to change the way they think, the way we perceive God, and ourselves.
40. THE WORD MADE FLESH. How, why, it is all such a beautiful mystery in so many ways.

Until next year, my friends. Have a very, very Merry Christmas. As you celebrate Advent, the savior come to earth, take time to reflect on all the ways He has been made real in your life. As you go into the new year do so in a way that anticipates all that He will still do, in you and through you! Much love!!!!

The post 40 Christmases appeared first on Caffeinated Faith.

In the mind of a seventeen to eighteen year old, the long-term impact of who I was becoming or the situations I was getting myself into didn’t even cross my mind. The point was no longer “fair” but “fun.” What I think I took away from the situation with my parents was that trying inevitably led to failure, we were all doomed. Or even that being “too” good when you are younger leads to the need to “act out” when you are older. (I think this one was brought to me by my dad’s first therapist that we had a family session with). He probably mentioned it with something else equally important about my dad’s actions being a mistake. However, that in and of itself sentiment stuck with me and I strangely internalized it. If I didn’t act badly now, like a kid was expected to act, I would be jeopardizing my family 20 or so years down the road. 

The second semester of my senior year is when I really made the decision that I was definitely not going to try to fit into a mold anymore. Drinking quickly fell into drunkenness and the party crowd led me to smoking pot. I met my first boyfriend right around the time I graduated. Lying became second nature, because there were tracks to be covered and “fun” to be had. I suppose this is normal for a lot of teens and is a coming of age story for most. But, I can’t help but look back and see how I was running from truth, masking my pain, and trying so hard to fit into a world in which I knew that I didn’t belong.

As I learned later, a true understanding of Jesus will set you free, not enslave you more to the ways of the world. If I had sought God in my trouble, and not the world’s answers of escapism, I would have found love, peace, healing and love. All those fruits of the spirit that find us when we begin to grow deeper in our relationship with God. But I didn’t know any of that existed because no one really told me. If they did they didn’t try very hard or perhaps I had just blocked out anything to do with Him to soothe my pain. As my parents discovered who I was becoming, through my music, my friends, my boyfriend, it remained all about what I did or didn’t do. I was a disappointment when I listened to lyrics with bad words. I broke my mom’s heart when I smoked weed. My father was outraged when he learned I started smoking cigarettes.

I think part of that was it was what their generation was told to focus on. The “moral majority” did more than affect the political sphere. It was more of a continuation from my childhood, yet I was now on the other side. Not measuring up. Instead of pointing to Jesus and his love, the church culture often pointed to the rules and how you weren’t living up to them. It reduced to Christ to a way of life that is highly unattainable without connecting with His Spirit inside of you. Without knowing his immense love for you. That he knew we would make mistakes, that our feeble minds would carry us down difficult roads and unbecoming ways of behaving. If you are there, please hear when I say he does love you so much, and he doesn’t want your heart and your following him to be all about rules, but because His ways are so much higher than our ways.

Also hear me when I say I know my parents loved me and tried their best to communicate Jesus. I think in many ways they weren’t taught how, and it trickled down to the next generation. This was not a break down for them, personally, but as an over-generalization a break down for the church at large. And I am sure my sin nature and desire to want to emotionally react suppressed the truth at some level. We had somehow started missing the point.

At the time, I understood Christianity as just about appearing better than the world and following a different set of rules. Rules involving not drinking, not cussing and not showing cleavage. If you did these things then God was pleased with you and you could go to heaven. If you didn’t follow the rules then he was mad at you and you were going to burn in hell. And while I was scared of hell in theory, I was almost equally as scared of living forever, because I couldn’t imagine a life where I wanted to live forever. I had not experienced any type of presence of God, or feeling embraced in his goodness, love and mercy, so the thought of living forever somewhere, even if it was a beautiful heaven with gold streets and pearly gates, was laden with more anxiety than excitement. In my line of thinking, heaven meant I had to *try* to live up to some impossible standard for forever? Sheesh. That did not sound fun at all. And with a God who was probably now angry at me for all the ways I was failing. No, thank you.

By the time the early 2000s came around and the emergent church, well, emerged, I was more than ready to explore alternatives to everything I thought I knew about God. 

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