Because they believed

He was just a man, but he believed. He’d gone to ask Jesus to heal his daughter; she died before he could return.
But when Jesus told him to only believe, Jarius did. And his daughter was made whole.

The closest she could get was just the hem of His garment. The crowds pressed, seemed not to notice. Her courage nearly gone, she touched His hem.
And because she believed she was made whole.

The lepers. They asked for healing. They risked all, despised and rejected by their countrymen. Why wouldn’t this person reject them, too? But He didn’t. He told them to go show themselves to the priests. But what good would that do? They’d doubtless been before, hoping vainly that they’d been healed.
But they didn’t question. They went.
And in the obeying, in the believing, they were made whole.

The list goes on. The one who cried, “Lord, if You say only the word my servant will be healed.” The thief on the cross who dared to hope in a dying man.

And, going back several hundred years, we have the serpent lifted high. The multitude, dying from snake bites, bidden to look on the snake lifted high on a cross and be healed.
And so it was. Those who believed looked, and they were healed.
And yet, this was just a type. Type met anti-type that day on Calvary where the true Savior hung on a bloodstained cross.

He, too, bids us look and live. A life given gives life to me. A life, broken, heals all wounds.

Oh Lord, You set each spirit free,
Who dares accept Your love.
Your cross stands tall through every age,

For all to look and live.

And when I look You haste to come,
To mend each broken piece.

For sin has shattered, wounded, torn;
But You have set me free.



Upheld by His Love

I sit at 34,000 feet and wonder…. Wonder how it is this heavier-than-air, vibrating metal object can fly. And all I can conclude is that it is a marvel greater than my understanding.

Flight is a miracle.

When a heart lets go and flies free.
When one chooses to say “Yes” to God.

Disobedience, fear, distrust? They keep us anchored down.

To abandon all, to trust God, yeah it’s scary sometimes.
But only in abandon is there freedom. Only in trusting Him can we fly.

I fly with wings of metal and fiberglass; upheld in air.
This heart flies on wings of trust, belief; upheld securely by His love.

He doesn’t let us crash. Oh, I could choose to alright, and sometimes (read: all too often) I do. But as long as my life is in His keeping I can rest securely in His love.

He my refuge. He the one who fights for me. And, always, underneath me are His everlasting arms.*


*Deut 33:27


The city flashes past my window, but I take no heed. All I want is to go home. This hasn’t been my best day for shopping. I was more than ready to quit before I’d even hardly started. I’m usually tired of the city after a few hours, but this started after a few minutes. I wonder why. I search deep to understand. If something like this happens there is usually a reason. I think it must have something to do with the city itself and how it’s such a congregating place for sin of all types. Maybe it’s the countless strange songs and strange Halloween-ish sounds issuing through store sound systems. I search for answers. Find none there.

A light turns red. I stop. Surrounded by cars full of people. Disconnected people. Hurting people. Each going his own way. Doing their own thing.

The light changes. We move forward. And then I see it.
Disconnect. It changes everything.

I’m dismayed. How did I get here and why!? There was no disconnect when I got to town this morning. There certainly is now. I search for answers, find none.

Dismay changes to steel-clad resolve. I didn’t leave home this way this morning. I’m not going home this way. Fortunately, I have a two hour drive ahead of me.

The last of the city fades away in my rear-view mirror. My iPod playlist streams music from my car speakers, courtesy of batteries and radio waves. I hardly hear it.

I wrestle with this restlessness. This separation from His heart. Magnified torment since I know I could have avoided this if I’d just paid attention. I’m ashamed now. Almost too ashamed to seek His heart. But seek it I do. Believing that He meant it when He promised that if we sought He would be found, and that He’s always near.

Trees flash by my window now, and God speaks peace to my heart. It doesn’t take as long as I expect and well before I’m halfway home the hurry is solidly replaced by the calmness I need. I call, He answers.
Always. He’s been waiting for me.
Even though I’ve grieved His heart.
He comes, tells my enemies to depart.

And I’m back where I belong. For now anyway. I wish I’d always stay here.

Times like these are getting rarer. Rarer enough that I can actually tell when my heart has gone astray. This life requires so much more than I could ever give. Connection to Heaven is a necessity. A necessity I love.

Each day that I seek to know His heart is a day in which I never want to know anything else. He always amazes me.

I didn’t skip that this morning. But somewhere between home and town I forgot that I can’t even walk without Him holding my hand. Dreadful to forget this. For when I forget this, I forget Him.

I’m asking Him now to keep me ever closer by His side, to remind me often just how much I need Him (Every moment. Every day.), and to never let me go.

It’s only through knowing Him that I can want to know yet more. It’s only through a heart connection with Infinite Love that I can even remember why I love, live, pray.

And it’s only through this that I can be at rest and full of gratitude. He gives the gifts. He gives the gratitude too.

It’s only through this that life is truly lived.

(written a few days ago)


No matter what you’ve been taught, no matter what you’ve learned to believe, remember this:

You are loved by the Faithful Father.
And you’ll always be loved.

Believe this. Live this. Love Him. You’ll never be the same.

(because I need reminded often)



God so loved


I wonder why He came. I wonder why He left the glories of Heaven for this sin-darkened world.

But I don’t wonder long. I know why He came.

He came because He loves me (you, us).
He came because He wants to dwell with me. Forever.

Mankind has been taken hostage by sin.
Sin demands death. There can be no other way.
The death—rightly mine.

God so loved.
He made a plan for my redemption. A man must die, and only one Man could pay the price sin required.
And so, Christ came to die.

The implications are amazing.
If He had sinned just once we’d still be captives to sin.

But God so loved that He gave His only Son.
He didn’t sell Him to the world, He gave His Son.
And Christ became a willing sacrifice.

He paid the ransom for me.
Ransom’s goal is reunion.

And because He paid an infinite price….
Because He gave His life.
I know He wants a reunion with me.
And He’s paid all.

Because of this, I can live with Him. Forever.



Far, yet near.

Hearken unto me, ye stouthearted, that are far from righteousness: I bring near my righteousness; it shall not be far off, and my salvation shall not tarry: and I will place salvation in Zion for Israel my glory. (Isaiah 46:12, 13)

God makes salvation as easy as possible.

When we are far from righteousness, He brings His righteousness near to us.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock….” (Revelation 3:20)

God does everything He can.
Brings His white raiment to me.
Stands and knocks on the door of my heart.
Longs for me to accept His raiment in place of my dirty rags.

The Infinite is so desirous of my salvation that He takes no chances that I may miss His gifts.

And then He waits.
Ultimately, it’s up to me to accept or not.

But when I do accept His grace He does not tarry.
One word and all springs into action.
Transformation. Joy unknown.

God waits to be gracious.*
We may be far from righteousness, but God’s righteousness is not far from us.
May He not wait in vain.

*Isaiah 30:18


It’s just one word but it has me in utter wonder.

You know, how just one moment can hold you there in silence; how just one thought can change the course of your life; how just one word can rivet you?

I just finished studying Isaiah 43. There is just so much beauty, so much depth, so much promise in that chapter.

And out of it all I’m left with one simple word: “chosen”.

Think about it for a moment.
What does chosen mean to you?

What does it mean to you when it says that God—the almighty, infinite, perfectly holy, yet tender Father—has chosen you?

Not until last fall did I really begin to understand what being chosen was.
She was just a little girl, but arguably one of the sweetest and cutest around. (Yes, I’m biased!)
Yet, she didn’t want anything to do with me. She loved her family, but I was a stranger and so she didn’t know or trust me. If I walked near, she cried.
That all changed when I spent a weekend at her home. Suddenly, she brought me books to read, fell asleep on top of me.
I guess I had to get into her comfort zone for her to decide she liked me.

It didn’t change after that. Every time I saw her she’d come running with a smile, a book, a toy.

But it wasn’t until we were all gathered together, the YD family that is, and she stood in the middle of the room full of her loved ones, her flesh and blood, and looked around, deciding where to go—and decided to come running to me…

It wasn’t until then that I understood what being chosen was.

And now, to think, that God has chosen me.
That He chooses to spend time with me when He doesn’t have to.
That He chooses to love me even though I’ve hurt Him over and over again.

This moves me.

Because this is so incredibly more significant than my little friend choosing me.

He’s the King of the Universe.
He knows the number of the stars, He knows the number of grains of sand on the seashore.
And I’m just a tiny speck on this planet I call home.

But He’s also a personal God. One who takes an interest in every moment of my day; One who knows me by name. A Faithful Father, Enduring Friend….

But I’m not a speck to Him.
I belong to Him, and He has chosen me.