I want to come home. I want to see goodness where I feel bitterness. I want joy where I feel pain. I want peace where I feel uncertainty. I want to belong where I feel disconnected. As hard and humbling as it will be, I want to come home.
Jesus did not deserve to suffer for us, for me, for her, but yet He did without complaint. He left Himself exposed, willingly...Am I not called to do the same for others?
Unfortunately, most of the pressure to measure my success by my romantic relationships comes from within Christian circles. We have unwittingly adopted a theology of prosperity when truly our collective Christian creeds teach a theology of accompaniment.
Yet, there is no greater freedom than finding yourself at the foot of the cross, in the place where you are afraid to wait, where uncertainty and fear abound. That place is holy.
Destruction takes seconds; creativity takes time.
It takes the tragic death of a good person to make us stop rationalizing and start sitting in the brokenness and pain of our human condition.
Our times of construction, our times of transition are the crux, just as the crucifixion was the crux of Christ's life. The cross was not the end, but a crucial transition. In the same sense, our times of transitions are never the end but a crucial change for our growth.
Love, compassionate love, is why despite the heartaches, the heart breaks, the stumbling, the failures, the disappointments, the annoyances of dating, the everything, I am an absolute sucker for weddings.
Here's a cold, hard truth about the Christian life that most Christians avoid talking about: Sometimes God has us weather storms seemingly alone.
“Unless there is a Good Friday in your life, there can be no Easter Sunday," said Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen