Master.

Draw me low, that I may breathe in your dust.

Draw me close, that I might inhale your essence.

Empty me.

The most I can offer is an empty vessel, awaiting Your satisfaction.

Imagine if we asked.

A new semester, a new year. I recently mentally organized my goals for this semester. They were simple, clean cut, attainable, and realistic. For example, get in shape, get good grades, prioritize time well, make the most of every day, stay emotionally healthy, make new friends. How quaint of me. Subconsciously my goal was to control, keep my hands on everything I could, stay organized and alert, be fully in charge of my life. Make it through without falling apart, play it safe and be a good college student.

Then, as I was reading Forgotten God by Francis Chan. While I have been a bit underwhelmed by the book as a whole, I was kicked-back by his words concerning the activity of the Holy Spirit in our lives (the forgotten God).

"When Jesus calls us to take up our cross, He is doing much more than calling us to endure the daily circumstantial troubles in life-He is calling us to be willing to suffer anything and forsake everything for the sake of the gospel. His call is to consider everything a loss for His sake. His call is for total surrender."

How the hell did I get here? Bending my knee, praying to the God of the Universe, to keep me safe, out of harms way, and academically successful in a university. GARBAGE! Where in the bible are we called to routine, predictability, or a life comfort?

Abandon, surrender, obedience, radical. Are these words in our prayers? Do we pray for the Holy Spirit to rock our worlds, to shake our faith, to change lives, to break the norm, work miracles, save His people?! Or do we ask for sleep, better grades, less stress, a nice person to date.

There is a world full of sin hurt, and desperately in need of a Savior, and I don't know about you, but I want to be apart of it. Sign me up, I'm all in. No more of this playing it safe.

What would happen if we simply asked for a challenge, a mountain to climb, an adventure unknown, a radical and unpredictable life. I have a feeling, He just might give it to you. The Holy spirit is real, active, moving and powerful...how easily I forget.

Let Me Swim.

I find myself gripping, clinging, barely holding on. My knuckles are white, and my palms blistered from gradually slipping farther and farther. My muscles are shaking, about to give out. Terrified, I cannot bring myself to look at what lies below, because above me only promises reminders of stormy uncertainty, dripping with remnants of pain and mistakes. Dark clouds churning, spitting bolts of lightning. Thunder so loud, it's deafening. Everything within me shivers at the thought of returning to the storm.

But below? Below is even more terrifying, mostly because I have never seen it before. The uncertainty holds me back. The unknown hinders me from giving up. Weakened, I finally force me gaze downward, and I look past my dangling feet. Blue waters. Blue waters as far as the eye can see! Sweet, refreshing breeze, gentle waves, and promise of renewal splash below me. Whispers of pure forgiveness and grace shuffle the waters, and His kind voice draws me in. “Come to me, you who are weary and I will give you rest."

Rest; the depth and security in His voice is irresistible. Sweet forgiveness, endless grace, and love longing to wash over me awaits.

Jump in, and taste and see that He. is. Good.

"Sometimes letting go is the hardest part."

My First Love.

Be faithful enough to let go of my hand and give it to Christ's.

Be infatuated enough with our Savior that you have to come off your knees to meet me.

Be honest enough to admit you've stolen my heart.

Be kind enough to return my heart into the hands of My First Love.

Be man enough to let me go.

(because I just might let you down)

Great Composer, write my song.

Listen up, strain your ear. The music that once played has faded out. My song, the song I once boldly shouted as my anthem of choice has been lost in the shuffle of things. I can't seem to remember the verses, and the chorus, just a few notes.

I long to sing again, and to sing at the top of my lungs. Can you hear my voice? It is hoarse, weak, and continues to be drowned out by this disorganized orchestra of voices. These voices are powerful, yet screech falsities to anyone who will listen. Why do I waste my time entertaining their cheap performance?

No longer will I accept their tune as my own. You have given me voice, strengthen it. You have given me rhythm, set it. You have written my symphony, let me hear it again.

Just you and I, no outside noise. Sing for me, My king. No other voice is sweeter, nothing clearer. Nothing satisfies the depths of my soul than the richness of your voice.

Great Composer, write my song.

cour·age (noun \ˈkər-ij, ˈkə-rij\): mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty

"Courage is not the lack of fear but the ability to face it".

Will you go with me?

Go deep with me. Walk with me to the cold, awakened by the touch where words are sweet, words are real, rushing with the weight of measure.

Go down with me, further than the light will touch, further than the mind will comprehend.

Go past with me. Past this suffocating surface. We will meet together where words and life come into perspective.

Go far with me. Far away from here, where people are scarce and newness bursts through this median.

Go up with me. Up above this fading planet, where the air is sick and harmful. Awake the senses, awaken them while we rise up.

Will you go with me?