{repost} - {links corrected}

My words often fail me.  My prayers fail to speak the heaviness of my heart.  Sometimes, I just have to rely on the promise that the Spirit intercedes on our behalf; other times, on the tune of a similar song sung by a different artist.

Tonight, just two posts that inspired and challenged me.  That caused me to ask, am I living a life that shows fruit such as these?  Or am I living a life that seeks my own agenda and accolades over attribution to the Almighty?

Grateful that our words are meant to encourage others.  I pray that these do that for you.  I totally recommend both, but specifically the last half of Jasen's post.  So much truth and humility and grace. So refreshing and honest and challenging.

My Coming Out as a Friend of Dan Cathy (Chick-Fil-A)

When Zeal, Could Kill - Jasen Chung

all that glitters.

looking up at the deep-navy sky as the clouds roll in under the half-moon's light, i begged to see Him.  to feel Him.  to sit, surrendered, on my knees in wonder.  the clouds moved methodically, like items on a conveyor belt, rolling past with intentionality.

the way the moon shone through the barren silhouettes of the large oaks above caught my eye.

beautiful.

the beauty in the barren.  the irony of such a thing.  the way the things stoic and static and revealing there age or less-than-perfect features catches my eye.  simple.  beautiful.

i find that i admire beauty most, not in the glitz and glam, but rather in the dark and destitute.  cities like Manhattan catch my attention because they sparkle, but places like Haiti capture my heart because even though they don't shine, I can see my reflection among the ruins.  i see beauty in broken things, perhaps because I see the hope that Christ brings in our brokenness.

my broken years I often look back on with an unlikely since of longing, because of the way the Lord attended to "fixing" me.  the proximity to His heart, the ability to hear His voice, the desire to seek after Him with all my heart; none have ever been stronger or closer than in those times, during those struggles.

where do you most often see beauty?  what makes it beautiful to you?  can you see beauty in the ruins? Thankfully, Jesus does.

not as the world.

amidst the demands of the day: the meltdowns, the prep, the decibels.  beyond the gunk of taxes and bills and staring adulthood down the throat and wanting to run as far as i can from it.  after the tears and frustrations of trying to find a doctor, accepting new patients, on my insurance plan, that doesn't need a referral from a primary care physician first;

after all that stuff is gone and fades away, my hope and my future and my faith remains.

i just wish it stayed as steadfast before those things; too. 

it's easy to get lost in the junky priorities of the days.  it would be foolish to abandon them without care, although my heart wants to do just that and run to Paris.  

i wish i could say, "but the trick is,..."  truth is, i don't know any tricks.  i just know the truth. 

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you.  Not as the world gives do I give to you.  Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.  -John 14:27

for Deloris.

I do not see that God is all around me because I am always trying to look ahead, overlooking Him who is so close.  --Henri Nouwen

I could've missed it; I often do.  A chance to reflect God's light every where His path takes me.  It's as subtle as the buds on the japanese cherry blossoms come to life overnight, debuting their muted pink pastels on barren branches.  or the daffodils, as they unfold to reveal their petals, a fresh tone of yellow against the greens and browns of the late-winter ground.

sometimes, we look over it, like the homeless woman on the steps, bundled in all she owns, toting trash bags that double as protection from the winter elements.  is easier for us to look forward, to a destination of what we can do, rather than looking around at how we can love.

doing is easier for us.  it sits well.  we feel accomplished, productive.  there's something to show for our time and effort.  even if that something is just another line on your resume. 

but then there is loving.  and loving out of the unnatural places of our heart, the places that make us feel comfortable.  the places that may wreak of day-old urine and cigarette smoke.  the selfish places that don't want to share our sandwich, let alone a kind word, with a stranger.  

loving, I believe, is seeing others how God sees them.

i suppose it makes sense.  if we were to look around us for opportunities to love, we would encounter the undeniable presence of God.  we'd be brought closer in intimacy with Him, as we commit to see and love like Him. 

***

I could've spent my time at the coffee shop, caged up and unbothered and able to get stuff done.  i opted for the park.  i could've sat at the picnic table, or the park swing where I was headed, but the Lord had something different for me to do. 

sitting where He had me, I saw things differently.  the trees, my lunch, this woman.  I saw beauty.  mismanagement. resiliance. 

i didn't know what to say to her, so I offered part of my sub.  she refused at first, but i insisted.  she asked me to tear her half in half, as she can't eat much these days, she said.  she just had a rabies shot.  

she finished her quarter faster than I and offered me her sweater as the winds changed to begin to usher in this evening storms. I politely declined as I was so eager to feel the sunshine on my skin, but in hindsight, maybe I should've accepted. 

As i finished my portion, I asked her if she wanted the remainder of her half.  She declined, but asked if I wasn't going to eat it.  She took it and ate it, and I went on my way after a few more minutes.

I didn't love well with my words; I didn't know how to.  I asked the Holy Spirit what to do when I saw her as I was parking to enjoy my lunch in the park.  Without hesitation, I felt like He responded with, You already know what you should do.

I tried to get out of it.  I tried to walk around it.  I tried to argue that I didn't know what to say. 

It didn't matter.

Sometimes we place as much important in saying the right things as we place on doing the right thing. 

Truth is, if our heart is attentive to God's presence around us, within us, we don't have to worry about if what we are saying or doing is the right thing.  Romans tells us that He works all things together for our good.  He will use even our failures, missteps, fumbled words. 

Deloris, my prayer is that I represented Jesus well.  that you felt God's love on you today.  I'm sorry I didn't use my words to tell you the He sees you and cherishes you.  But I hope that in being seen today, you remembered that you are not overlooked.

love well.

Don't just pretend to love others.  Really love them.  Hate what is wrong.  Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other.  --Romans 12:9-10

I've been camping out in this chapter of Romans the past couple days, and I just can't seem to get enough of it to let it and all its implications sink in.

it tells us here, we aren't just to put on our nice-face and try to go about business-as-usual.  to really love someone is deeper than that.  but what all does it consist of?

i'm not talking about a romantic love here; nor do I believe Paul was in his epistle.  he's talking about within the body of Christ; perhaps even, outside of the kingdom.

what does really loving someone look like?  the subsequent verses mention blessing those that persecute you.  rejoicing with those that rejoice; weeping with those that weep.  living at peace with each other.  foregoing pride.  not seeking revenge.  conquering evil with good.

i think it would also include other things that are hard for us to do naturally.  to listen.  to stop giving advice or pointer or our opinions, and to truly listen.  to pray for them, without agenda.  to serve them, without expectation of return.  to give, well, of one's self, without seeking to gain from it.

i used to love well, i think.  i find after years of just plain 'ole life, it's not as easy as it used to be.

it's not easy to really love others, all the time.  it's often harder to really love yourself most of the time.  we've gotta start there.  much in the way they instruct us on planes to make sure our oxygen mask is on and functioning before assisting others or children, we've gotta function well in learning to really love ourselves first.

maybe loving everyone seems exhausting at first.  too overwhelming of a task that it prevents you from ever starting.  start with one.  one person that it is hard for you to authentically love.  maybe they are different.  maybe you don't know them well.  maybe you know them too well, with all their flaws so carelessly displayed.  whatever the cause, you've not loved them well in the past.  start there.  begin with them.  love them genuinely.  bless them.  learn what it is that makes them rejoice, and rejoice with them.  take the time to listen to why they may weep, and weep with them.  let down your pride, become vulnerable.  stomp out evil through good works.

pray. serve. love.

i'm not good at this.  but, we're in this together.  and God's immeasurable grace will be enough to get us going, and enough to cover us as we fail.

coming soon!

the short story:  I handed over my pen, and am allowing the Lord to write the story of my life.  truth is, He writes a better story than I could have ever imagined. 

the long story: coming soon at |a better story| !

i am walking moment-by-moment in complete awe of what the Lord is doing, how He is using the broken pieces of my story, and recreating a masterpiece. 

this post is a tad on the pre-mature side.  i wanted to have everything else up and ready, but just had to sneak-a-peek at this adorable logo that Carmine created for me all the way from the other side of the world in Melbourne!  Her work is fantastic, and reasonably price!  Check out her Etsy page here!

although it is all a work in progress, join in on the storyline by following my blog at www.abetterstory.info.

and another sneak peek at a precious little lamb that I got to capture last weekend:

isn't he the dearest!?

excited for all that is to come,
xoxo

details and car doors.

chances are, if you reach into the console on my driver's side door, you'll stumble upon the remnants of some of my previous stumbling blocks.  i'm not porting drugs, mind you; but there might be a Krispy Kream wrapper, some Grandma's cookie packaging, or that McDonald's hash brown paper from my road trip.

i've dubbed this console my "shame compartment."

it's full of all the trash and left overs that are too unsightly to leave out in the open, yet, there's no proper place to dispose of them at the time.  then, at the end of the day, i get in my car and let out a huge sigh, and see the evidence of my poor nutritional choices before me.  even cleaning it out just trudges me through the guilt once again.

it's amazing how many of us Christians drive through life with a 'shame compartment' somewhere in our hearts.

we're reminded of our poor choices.  our missed chances.  our past that catches up to us.  we're confronted by memories of failures.  lies that come back to haunt us.  the feeling of a dirtiness so permanent that even oxy-clean doesn't stand a snowball's chance in Haiti of cleaning up the mess.

and we should be reminded.  we should know the depths of our sin.  it makes Him furious.

Quit your worship charades. I can't stand your trivial religious games: Monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings— meetings, meetings, meetings—I can't stand one more! Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them! You've worn me out! I'm sick of your religion, religion, religion, while you go right on sinning. When you put on your next prayer-performance, I'll be looking the other way. No matter how long or loud or often you pray, I'll not be listening. And do you know why? Because you've been tearing people to pieces, and your hands are bloody. -Isaiah 1:13-16 MSG

oh, but for hope!  glorious hope we have in Christ!  it doesn't end there!  we are not shamed back into the very pit He came to extend us grace and His hand to get us out of!  We're not left on our own to sort it out.

"Come now, let's settle this," says the Lord.  “Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow.  Though they are red like crimson, I will make them as white as wool."  - Isaiah 1:18 NLT

He will wash us clean.  He will get rid of the dirt and grime and blood that keep us from shining for Him.  In fact, almost always, He uses those things for His glory.  He works all things together for the good of those that love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:23).  Yes, even that thing.  That thing you still feel shamed over, guilty over, regretful over.  "Instead of your shame there shall be a double portion; instead of dishonor they shall rejoice in their lot; therefore in their land they shall possess a double portion; they shall have everlasting joy."

We are promised everlasting joy in lieu of our shame.  How many of us are truly walking in that incomparable joy? Instead, we lug around our past in a side-tote, settling with living a self-righteous guilt instead of laying them at the foot of the Cross.  The things that catch up with us from our past, those are the things that God intends to use for our good, and that the enemy ties to use us to shame us out of believing that we are even worthy of Christ's love any longer.

"Can anything ever separate us from Christ's love? ...  No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loves us."  (Rom. 8:35, 27)

I charge you to look that thing in the eyes, stand tall and firm, and demand, "Get behind me, Satan!"  The Lord has already promised He will use ALL things, not just the beautiful things, together for our good.

In Ephesians, we are called to put things into the light.  "For you were formerly darkness, but now you are light in the Lord; walk as children of the Light (for the fruit of the Light consists in all goodness and righteousness and truth), trying to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.  Do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead, even expose them; ... all things become visible when they are exposed by the light."  (Ephesians 5:8-13)

We are given some responsibility in the task; we do not sit on our hands.  Rather, the Lord gives us a few specific instructions in the cleansing of our shame compartment:

Wash yourselves and be clean! Get your sins out of my sight.  

Give up your evil ways.   --Isaiah 1:17

I challenge you this week to get out the armor-all and windex.  Get that shame compartment cleaned out!  be honest about what's in there; recognize it, and then let it go.  Seal it up, and don't deposit anything in there that belongs directly in the trash, or, on a shelf as part of your story of redemption.  You're not meant to live in shame.  it was for freedom we have been set free!  Our freedom in Christ is not dependent on our past.  He will do the detailing, but we've first got to clean out that compartment.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.  --Romans 8:38-39

lent.

we've all done it:  given up facebook.  soda.  coffee.  sweets.  fasted from fast food, vowed to not eat meat, deleted our twitter app.  all in the name of "look-what-i'm-giving-up-for-lent."

to be honest, most of the time, i never even knew what lent was.  i'm not even sure i'm totally sure i know now.  i thought it was about giving up french fries in the name of jesus.

jesus doesn't need my french fries.  neither does my waistband, but that's a post for another day.

he doesn't need my caffeine any more than i do, nor do i think he cares if i'm abstaining from Facebook for a whole 40 days (and letting the world know about it, too;  hey, i'm talking to myself here).

so last year, or the year before, or maybe before that (i've clearly paid attention),  i gave up 'giving up.'  i'm not saying we all should forget about lent and the discipline and self-denial that should come in sacrifice.  i'm saying i should.  it became about me.  about what i gave up.  about how good i was doing.  about how strong i was.  when we (i) are going through something challenging, we (i) want everyone to know about it.  i was just like the hypocrite Jesus warned about in the Sermon on the Mount.  i look miserable, i act miserable, or i show off and make it known.  or even if i didn't go out of my way to make sure it was known i was fasting, boy, oh boy, did I not miss a beat in sharing when i had to politely decline a coke or a brownie.

since the fall of man, we have been set up to fail.  the Bible is clear to not rely on our accolades, our list of works, 'lest any man should boast.'  for all sin and fall short of the Glory of the Lord.  to me, "giving up" something was just another thing I would either A) fail at, or B) boast in.  it never made me feel closer to God, just slightly more religious than the girl next door that just walked in with Thin Mints.

I am NOT saying you shouldn't sacrifice.  God is calling me to live in a season, err, scratch that... undetermined amount of time, er,  a life of sacrifice right now.  and sacrifice sucks.  whether its that morning caffeine, or that sweet treat after work, or that glass of wine after your little friend had a meltdown in the middle of your observation,  giving those things up and dying to desires of the flesh go against the grain of our wants.   thinking of the things my broken 'want-er' wants, ... i'm ashamed.  because truth be told, if it's Christ + _______, we're not deeming him Lord at all.

i debated and prayed about what my season of Lent should look like.  the chubby part of me wanted to give up sweets.  the not-well-rested part of me thought about giving up facebook.  but the part of my heart, the tiny part that i've allocated to the Holy Spirit, reminded me those things still focused on me.  they are good things.  great resolutions.  ambitious ideas.  but they lacked Christ at the center.

right now, making time is a sacrifice.  even making time for me is a sacrifice, one i'm not always willing to make.  but as i thought and prayed about this, I knew the Lord was asking me for more time with Him.  time spent in worship.

i'm not a musician, and as much as i would love to get lost in song, it happens about one out of every 55 times.  fortunately, worship doesn't solely exists for those with a sweet song and good with guitar.

John 4 tells us we will worship in spirit and in truth.  Romans 12 tells us to present our bodies as a holy and living sacrifice, which is a spiritual service of worship.  Colossians 3 tells us whatever we do or say, to do all in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.

so whether the argument is for coming and resting with jesus, or getting out there and doing more in His name, i concede.  my only stake in this battle is to worship him with my mind, my soul, my body and my day-to-day life.  as much as i need to do better, as much as i need to do better,  i don't need to do anything.  i need to open my life up, to fill it with more of Him, and to allow Him to bring perfection to my mind, soul, body, and life through moment-by-moment with Him.

one way i find myself able to worship Him in spirit and in truth is through writing.  i delve into the word like I'm on a mission when I write.  I write to share my love of Him, my personal difficulties, and how He has shown the path for my feet to traverse.  how He has made a path where there was none.  i learn more of His word, i meditate more on His promises.  for me, to spend time drawing parallels from my life to His promises, and allowing myself to be vulnerable to share that for His namesake, is worship to Him.

so, in lieu of cutting something out, i'm adding more.  more time with Him.  more time in Scripture.  more of my words to be about Him.  it's not about doing more.  it's about refocusing what I'm already doing, with Him in the center.

daffodils.

it was overcast.  and early.  but not as early as it usually is for my morning commute.  with a training today, i had the luxury of sleeping in until 6:35.  even had enough time to grab an iced coffee at starbucks on the way.  and a brownie, but i'm certainly not in the business of counting calories, especially before 8 a.m.

just a few miles from the interstate, but it was already backroads, country as cornbread.  taking a windy road to get to the training site, i almost missed it.  i had to do a double-take.  it can't be! i thought.  no, it really is!

daffodils.  daffodils!

they caught me off guard, as it's barely mid-february and it most certainly doesn't feel much like spring.

but immediately, just like every other year since i've moved to nashville, the tears came, and i choked them back with a smile.

daffodils are the first flowers of spring.  followed by lilies, and then finally, my favorite: tulips.  before you know it, the bradford pears and dogwoods are covered in brilliant white and pink blooms, and spring is out in full force (which you'll soon hate, too, due to seasonal allergies; but let's not kill the hope before it comes).

but, you see: it's still winter.  our gas bill is still high enough to prove it.  there's a chance of snow this weekend.

but, spring is coming.  yes, indeed, it is coming.

sometimes, our lives parallel this example of winter dormancy.  all is cold, and quiet, and bitter, and appears dead.  it feels like new life is never on the way.  like the promise of hope and {warmth} of future will certainly expire before they come into fruition.  in those times, it's the simple sign of the blooming daffodil that reminds us this is but for a season.  the little signals of hope that are almost too small to notice.  cling tight to them.  don't forget them.

you may not be out of your winter yet.  you've been weakened and defeated and left in the cold.  you're enraged at that over-commercialized rodent predicted another 6 weeks of frightful, frigid air.  but rest assured, the daffodils still bloom beneath the threat of dropping mercury.

hold tight, precious one.  spring time is coming.  He hasn't left you in Winter forever.

beauty over duty

to characterize my spiritual journey over the course of the past month would be difficult to say the least.  heck, crafting that first sentence took at least seven failed initial attempts.

my mind and heart and spirit have been hard at work, or at least, hard at work at avoiding it at just about all cost.  there has been a culture clash within, as i navigate the foundational truths of what i believe, of how i live out what i believe, and how we, as a church, a collective christian body, should live out what we claim ever-so-loudly to believe. 

my thoughts on faith and priorities of faith and social efforts of faith and all the baggage that accompanies each of those journeys have been evolving, evolving in an unsuspecting, introspective, slightly subconscious way.

i feel as if my heart is being slowly offended by cultural-Christian norms.  i'm not seeing the Biblical faith that we, that i, proselytize being lived our inherently in our Monday-thru-Saturday lives.  i'm mainly speaking about myself, lest ye feel condemned, but i feel as if a good portion of you could slightly relate.

the scriptures we tattoo on our forearms and feet hardly take root in our heart.  the verses quoted on our facebooks and twitters and instagram-screenshots seem cheap and ordinary and soon-forgotten as our attention-deficiet social-media-minds find the next shiny thing. 

i try to pray every morning during my 25-minute commute to work.  i am not a morning person.  i would go as far as to say that i abhor mornings.  probably definitely more than any other part of my day.  i'd rather exercise than be up before dawn.  i'd probably even choose water boarding, as long as it didn't commence until at least after 10 a.m.  i spend as little time getting ready in the morning as (socially-acceptably) possible.  there is no desire in my heart at 5:30 to do my make up, wash my hair, or put more thought to my outfit than minimally necessary. 

needless to say, my attitude about mornings in general makes my 25 minute commute-prayer a cacophony doomed from the first utterance.  tuesdays, like today, are the days i pray for Haiti.  i have, ever since returning in 2010, and of all the days of the week, its the one i've most faithfully pursued. 

but this morning, as i noticed i feigned interest in even praying for something so dear to my heart, i broke out in confession to God.  

revelation poured from my lips like prose, unknown to me until it rolled off my tongue and bounced between my ears.  the Lord has a funny way of putting words to unexpressed emotion when we speak them to Him with authentic repentance.  

i found myself going through the motions.  not necessarily as a response to apathy, but more as an obligation to my Christian faith.  i found myself pursuing duty over beauty. 

it was a difficult, broken, yet hope-giving revelation.  

in my efforts to keep up with the check-list of my Christian faith (believe, profess, pray, worship, have a positive attitude, be patient, not get angry at my kinders, find joy even when my feelings or circumstances dictate misery), i've got caught up in the duties, and completely lost sight of the beauty and the splendor of the Lord.  i pray because it's what i am supposed to do.  i sigh with the heavy weight of realizing that it's been days since i last read my bible; the heaviness not from the decreased time in the word, but rather by the loss of some invisible plaque that we're all racing for that says "I faithfully read my Bible every morning, first thing, even before dawn!"  it's funny how when we slowly drift from the captivating presence of the Lord, its the duties we get caught up on, and not the awe-inspiring, Holy presence of the Most High. 

i cried out for the realness of God that I had once encountered.  for the knee-trembling, fear of the Lord.  to walk as if I had been transformed by Him, not merely as an inactive member of some unimportant, yet prestigious-sounding club.  to know and see and feel that I have been loved by the Creator of our universe.  to be moved by the Word, and encounter Him in the text, rather than read about some distant Savior in a story that once sounded familiar. 

to be moved by the beauty, not just spurred on by the duty, of the Lord. 

that attitude changed my entire day.  where yesterday had me nearly in a fit of tears by two p.m., today had given me fresh hope, renewed patience, and an eager (even if needing prompting) spirit to get into the Word and to spend time in worship.

some days, i doubt that I hear God's voice.  it's funny; i could've heard it just yesterday, so loud and clear, and then the next day, i'm full of doubts dictated by my lack of emotional encounter with Christ, and i find myself in a full-on flail. 

but this afternoon, He's reminded me of more than just his sovereignty.  He's reminded me of His love for me, yes me, personally, as an individual heart and spirit and soul and life.  a friend of mine posted this quote by Francis Chan on Facebook this afternoon, and it totally resonated with my morning confessional: 

"The God of the universe- the creator of nitrogen and pine needles, galaxies and E-minor- loves us with a radical, unconditional, self-sacrificing love. And what is our typical response? We go to church, sing songs, and try not to cuss."

how true is this of us?  how often do we diminish the Love of our Lord to something that warrants just a few moments of our morning, an hour or so of our Sundays, and an unsuccessful attempt at controlling our tongues?

i intentionally came to The Well (my staple non-profit coffee shop; i may have a slight, unhealthy obsession) to write.  some people worship with music,  i worship with words.  God has gifted us all with unique talents and passions and ways to praise Him, and I feel I am most able to accurately worship Him by constructing paragraphs and pages that sing His praises.  

i forgot that Tuesday's are church night at The Well, but, God remembered and brought me anyway.  i closed my eyes at this corner table and sung praises to the Beautiful One, the One that reminds me I am in the palm of His holy hands. 

i opened up to Isaiah and read chapter 45.  and then went back and read 44.  the words came alive and burst with an intimate declaration of God's knowledge of and love for His children.

Thus says the Lord who made you, who formed you from the womb and will help you: ... For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring and my blessing on your descendants.  They shall spring up among the grass, like willows by flowing streams.  This one will say, "I am the Lord's," another will call on the name of Jacob, and another will write on His hand, "The Lord's"; and name himself by the name of Israel.

Thus says the Lord, the King of Israel and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts, "I am the first and I am the last, besides me there is no god."   --Isaiah 44:2-6

(v. 21) Remember these things, O Jacob, and Israel, for you are my servant: I formed you; you are my servant; O Israel, you will not be forgotten by me.  I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you. Sing, O heavens, for the Lord has done it; shout, O depths of the earth; break forth into singing, O mountains, O forest, and every tree in it! For the Lord has redeemed Jacob, and will be glorified in Israel.   Thus says the Lord, your Redeemer, who formed you from the womb; "I am the Lord, who made all things, who alone stretched out the heavens, who spread out the earth by myself, who frustrates the signs of liars and makes fools of diviners, who turns wise men back and makes their knowledge foolish, who confirms the word of his servant and fulfills the counsel of his messengers, who says of Jerusalem, "She shall be inhabited," and of the cities of Judah, "they shall be built, and I will raise up their ruins;" who says to the deep, "Be dry; I will dry up your rivers;" who says of Cyrus, 'He is my shepherd, and he shall fulfill all my purpose': saying of Jerusalem, "She shall be built," and of the temple, "Your foundation shall be laid."  --44:21-28

"I will go before you and level the mountains, I will break in pieces the doors of bronze and cut through the bars of iron, I will give you the treasures of the darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name."  (45:2-3)

He will do these things, all so that we may know that it is the Lord, the God of Israel, that calls us by our name.  How precious are we to the Lord that He just wants us to know that He, the God that is responsible for all those aforementioned things, calls us by our names.  He formed us, we are His servants.  Yet, thankfully, He calls us by our names.  Intimately.  Personally.  Eternally.

"I call you by your name, I name you, though you do not know me.  I am the Lord, and there is no other, besides me there is no God; I equip you, though you do not know me, that people may know, from the rising of the sun and from the west, that there is none besides me; I am the Lord, and there is no other. I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the Lord, who does all these things ... I made the earth and created man on it; it was my hands that stretched out the heavens, and I commanded all their host."  (45:4-7, 12)

Our purpose is found in Him.  even when we did not know Him, we were known by Him; created by Him, to point to Him.

In a world, a culture, that true beauty has been manipulated and perverted beyond recognition, this beauty invokes a response of worship and devotion and gratitude in a way only an encounter with a true source of awe can.

so as you weigh your own personal pursuit of beauty-over-duty, reconsider the works of the Lord; all He is responsible for in this expansive universe.  ponder the minuscule piece you are to the vast puzzle. and then be comforted knowing that the very same God that created the universe, knows you, named you, and calls you, all to illuminate His glory.

that, friends, is something beautiful.