Last semester was hard.

And I gripped this belief like a lifeline of control that once I had certain things, life would be good. Life would be great, if only the Lord would follow my plan. This sounds familiar.

Worry and anxiety would be a memory of the past, something to fondly chuckle about. As has become a constant theme of life, I was very wrong.

Here I am, with everything I greedily grabbed for, prayed for, in my hands - the friends, the job, the confidence, the things I had hoped for... and it feels like just sand running through my hands. It fulfills for an hour, a conversation, and I am left with a bare and hurting soul, starving for the loving Savior that I have pushed to the side.

Nothing here is enough to quench our thirst; they are beauties that lead us to the brilliance. That is the blinding, blazing, beautiful truth that I have denied and denied and denied. Without Christ Jesus, everything we can gain or get in this world is grey and shadowy, devoid of meaning.

Self swells, and the world shrinks. So does our love for it. The stairs of this pathway spiral down to deep despair.

Just give me Jesus. The King of Glory lovingly washing his disciples' feet, the maker of the Rockies, the Redwoods, the imagination behind orchestra symphonies and constellations, the creator of the most wondrous thing in creation, the people we pass and sit by and talk to every day.

What He wants for us are unseen glories beyond our imagination. He wants us to know Him. For that relationship to color this black and white life in vibrant beauty and purpose.

Coming into the presence of Christ is truly a rebirth. To be born again, into wonder, into transformation. It simply cannot be expressed with words.

The morning rises with the smell of adventure on the wind and my soul has a reason to jump out of bed. My loving Father has set tasks and gifts unknown before me, and He will be with me through it all.

Just know this. Just know His grace.

Sounds easy.

But come mornings, most of us wake up with a heavy hand of weight and worry pressing on our chests, like we've been running from a shadow down the hallways of night and dreams and wake up to find it still waiting. Our faith in Christ weak, barely giving us enough light to see by, to love by, to trust by. And we feel like a lost cause, too stained and worn out, and we believe the lie that God has given up on us and moved on to use stronger souls. Souls that don't doubt, or fear, or falter.

But the Bible tells us that what we see as weakness and hopelessness, God sees as strength.

"Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things — and the things that are not — to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God — that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: 'Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.'" - 1 Corinthians 1:26-31

"What if your blessings come through raindrops?"

Suffering sows humility and compassion, and for me, they drive me to writing like nothing else.

My struggles with insecurity, my loneliness, the deaths, the tears, the heartbreaks are built into a beautiful monument to Christ for others to see.

The many cracks in my broken vessel allow the light of Christ to shine around me.

I wish I could fully embrace the trials with grace and hope, and I'll try with these weak hands, but whipping myself for failing is just another jump for perfection.

I know I'll continue to fail. What a God. To turn a wilted weed of distrust and doubt into a rose garden of glory. To love those who forsake Him unconditionally, as no one on this earth can.

Our great and awesome God promises to use our frayed threads of life to weave His great tapestry. He has chosen me, grafted me with flesh and blood into His family of believers, spreading and dancing and weeping and rejoicing down the corridors and stories of time.

This is the story of not just my painful life, but the story of the bleeding, starving, despairing world gently cradled by the hands of God. The same hands they constantly spit on in rebellion.

It is the story of redeeming love. The broken made beautiful, the shattered mirrors reflecting the I AM.