To realize imperfection is to love Him

      Perfect...
That's what we all aim to be, isn't it? Don't we all have this innate desire within ourselves to be something different, even excellent, dare we say it.....perfect.
        We create this idea in our head of what perfect looks like, acts like, how it feels, who it attracts, how much better life would be if we were, indeed, 'perfect'. All of us strive for physical, emotional, spiritual, and overall personal perfection. The only difference is how we define it.
          For many years I thought that being perfect would some how make me closer to God. A god that was distant and uninterested in my personal problems. Yes, I had heard He 'loved' me...yes, I knew Jesus died for me...and the basic concept. I did believe that. But getting to know God was like a necessary chore. I would ask, "Why would I want to get to know a god who is judgemental and will send me to Hell if I mess up?" Or think, "Maybe if I act right, look right, and become an upright individual, God will overlook my minor flaws and love me." It was never enough.
          Knowing God seemed like an exhausting feat that made me feel unworthy. Instead, I could just 'serve' God and that would be enough. I would handle all the anxiety, stress, and hurt I had and carry my own burdens, thinking God was surely not interested in my life. Didn't He have more important things to worry about? Since He is so holy and perfect, it made since to me to try and impress Him with my version of holiness.

The god that I was believing in was not the God of the bible. The god was actually me.

     Me was the deity I was trying to impress every day. I tried to do everything on my own strength so that I could somehow attain mercy from an angry God. Me was who I was depending on, who I was putting faith in, who I was trying to make happier. It was all about me. I wanted to be perfect in the eyes of me. I wanted to be beautiful in the eyes of me. I wanted me to save me. All that I had was me.

     It is easy to shut the world out, tell them everything is okay, and deal with our hurt in whatever way we see fit. We medicate ourselves with drugs&alcohol, bitterness towards others, lust, lies, eating disorders...even by doing good deeds. The problem is that none of these options move us towards perfection at all. They lead us to separation, depression, pain, death.

     The only One who has ever truly been perfect is Jesus Christ. He died for us so that we didn't have to be perfect to know God. He understood that we were sinners, and it broke his heart. He felt, not only sympathy, but empathy. He took on all of our imperfections so that we could be made perfect in Him.

     Christianity isn't about trying to become perfect enough to earn God's acceptance. It is about letting go of the imperfections that ruin our lives and giving them to Jesus. He transforms us into someone new, wipes us clean, and makes us beautiful and FREE.

You can NOT earn God's love, it is a gift. It is given without partiality to all who TRUST in Him.

Let us not trust in our own disastrous versions of perfection.
Let us trust in the ONE who is perfect.

"This God—his way is perfect;

the word of the Lord proves true;

he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him."

-Psalm 18:30

"But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. "

  - 2 Corinthians 12:9

To trust is to love Him

      Oh if you only knew how much I struggle with this. Well, you are about to...
I am a lady of many passions, many dreams, goals, aspirations, and risks. I chase after challenges and seemingly impossible or strange tasks, like I have something to prove. I change my mind recklessly and i'm indecisive to a fault. I dread going home and getting asked the question, "So what are you majoring in now?" I always seem to have a new answer. It's not like I want it this way. I'd much rather have it all figured out and give everyone a clear cut response of exactly what I plan to do in this life. But that isn't me. I was born to explore.
            So here I am in Arkansas. Why? I'd be lying if I gave you an elaborate explanation. I'm here solely because it is the first stop God led me to in post high school life. It has been a growing experience, mostly enlightening, sometimes daunting, usually enjoyable. I've switched my major four times in the two years i've been here. I am currently a biology major who abhors science. I know it makes little sense. But nothing I do really makes a lot of sense.
            So i'm at a crossroads. One consistent thing God has shown me is that I have a heart for people (general, but consistent nonetheless). I love to be with those who are hurting, poor, vulnerable, in need of help. I long to be a hero, sacrifice, and make a difference. I want to do something that matters.
       I am driven, I am not afraid to work hard. I am not afraid to struggle and learn from my mistakes. I've reached the point where I am okay with whatever option God truly gives me. I have to make the decision every morning to trust Him and to ask for discernment. I know that He knows me so much better than I know myself, so why wouldn't I choose to trust him with my plans?
        In the end, my most important purpose is to spread the gospel. I am called to be a disciple and to disciple others. My greatest desire should be to share God's truth and love. He is the one and only constant in my life. He is intimate and perfect. He knows all of my dreams and puts even my best ones to shame. So whenever I struggle with my tomorrow, I stop and give him my today.

To love a stranger is to love Him

I sit here, nervous. My purse rests gently on my lap containing four different pieces of square paper that communicate the love of Christ. I remind myself that i'm called to reach out.

I am on a plane, sitting next to a middle-aged chap, or is he in his twenties? I'm  not really sure. I am too scared to get a closer look. First bridge of communication: I offer him a piece of orbit bubblegum. After all, we are on a plane and ears do tend to pop. He nonchalantly replies "Yes, thank you" as I hand him the pack for him to take a piece out. I regret this action immediately, thinking that I should have dispensed the gum myself for him, that may have been kinder.
      It's cold. I shift constantly, being careful not to brush my leg against his, though I do. He and I seem to be taking turns fake sleeping and looking out the airplane window. I am the one sitting next to the window, so  whenever He takes a gander I distract myself, awkwardly. Finally, a flight attendant. Ahhhh, this is my moment. She asks me what I would like to drink, I reply nothing, just cookies please. He asks for some kind of soda and decides upon cookies as well. He glances at me. I wander if the mutual cookie liking will spark a conversation. It doesn't.
     Dang..."God you are not making this easy" I think to myself. I pray silently as the man stares straight ahead. My feet are chilly. "AHA! that is it! I will ask him about his feet!". I wrestle this idea in my head thinking, "His feet?...really Lindsay? you are weird and that will never work, you might as well just ask for some more cookies and pretend to read your book again, he will never talk to you. In fact, who cares if  he does?". But the holy spirit leads me to blurt it out almost like word vomit, I shift my head gently towards him and ask, "Are your feet cold?" He replies, " A little, but not really,(chuckling) you've seemed to be freezing this whole plane ride!" EUREKA! We bond.
       Gradually our conversation shifts from his job in the Air Force, to the death of his father, to his Christian cousins, and then to his lack of faith in a real God. He sincerely yet accusingly begins to ask me questions:
" So, if God is God, why would he pick random guys to write the bible, and then it be translated a bunch of times, why didn't he just tell everyone?".
" What happens to the people who never hear about God on remote islands, will they go to Hell?"
" Why does God not make him self more known?"
" I used to be interested in Christianity and all that stuff when I was younger, I don't really know what happened...life I guess."

He's desperate. I try to explain, think, pray, be sincere. Some of my words fall flat, but the one's from God are filled of life. He desires an intimate encounter with God. It is written all over his face. He looks to me for the answers. I know he begins to see me as a good person, and this troubles me. I tell him my testimony. The conversation settles and he is part warm, part stubborn.
I tell him that I appreciate everything he told me on the plane.
He gives a tender smile and says, "And I appreciate you telling me everything"...but then he adds, "if telling me about Jesus is what makes you feel better, then i'm glad."

my heart breaks.
I respond, "Please understand, if I truly believe that Jesus is the only way, how could I not tell you about Him? That would be selfish."

His face is softened, as he admits to never have thought about it that way.

I pull four tracks out of my purse. By now, I know this is an adventurous man, and I ask him to "pick a card any card" he hesitates for a moment and chooses the one with a skydiver on it. He wants to read it, hungry to learn, yet not ready to say so. He leads me off the plane and we depart outside the gate. I shake his hand and walk on. He stands there for a moment, track in hand. I look back and think, "I wander if I gave him enough truth?" Most of me, wants to run back to that man, miss my connecting flight, and exhaust myself of all I know until he surrenders to Christ. But God reminds me to hand Him the reigns and that I am silly.

I walk away sorrowful, yet excited. In prayer, yet rejoicing. I remember that I never asked the man his name, nor did he mine. My name is of no importance. The name Jesus is the only one worth remembering.