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The forgotten day in Holy Week

Even if you’re not religious, I hope this story can bring some encouragement to you like it does to me.

Happy Holy Saturday! It’s my favorite day of Holy Week. Most people who celebrate Holy Week focus on Good Friday or Easter. But I like the day in between…

After traveling with Jesus for 3 years, putting all of their faith and confidence in Him being their Messiah and Savior, and after leaving their families and careers and homes for Him, he was dead.

All their hopes were gone. Their pictures of the future gone. Despair setting in. The gravity of the futility of their sacrifices. All for nothing. Nothing. Jesus was dead. And their hopes were lost. Their futures and the future of their nation: uncertain.

And God was silent. For 3 days.

No reassurance. No comfort. No hope. No answers.

Only questions.

But Jesus was coming.

I love this day. Because it reminds me that even when I have placed my confidence in Him and I find myself in despair still and I want to (or do) blame Him for failing me and leaving me in a dark place, and He’s silent and I have no answers…

In the darkest time.

It didn’t end on Saturday.

There was more to the story.

And there’s more to mine when I’m in darkness. And more to yours.

He’s never finished.

Jesus said “it is finished”. “It” was finished. That task was finished. But He wasn’t.

There was resurrection after. And another coming.

Even when God is silent, it doesn’t mean He’s finished.

“I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer.” - C.S. Lewis

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A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means-the only complete realist.

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (via kvtes)

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God is a literary genius.

Even the names of the first 10 generations of mankind foretell the coming of the Messiah: Adam means “Man” Seth means “Appointed” Enosh means “Mortal” Kenan means “Sorrow” Mahalalel means “The blessed God” Jared means “Shall come down” Enoch means “Teaching” Methuselah means “His death shall bring” Lamech means “The despairing” Noah means “Comfort (or rest)” Putting this all together: “Man [is] appointed mortal sorrow; [but] the Blessed God shall come down, teaching [that] His death shall bring the despairing comfort (or rest).” I don’t think this is a coincidence. (Source: Hidden Treasures in the Biblical Text, p. 11-18)

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Jess @_inthedaylight.

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There was a time when I watched this video everyday before I left my house. 

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Other people feel how you feel. You are more than just your pain. You are more than wounds, more than drugs, more than death and silence. There is still some time to be surprised. There is still some time to ask for help. There is still some time to start again. There is still some time for love to find you. It’s not too late. You’re not alone.

Jamie Tworkowski, “There Is Still Some Time” (via twloha)

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I stopped looking for the light. Decided to become it instead.

Francheska, of ‘Hey Fran Hey’ (via basedjane)

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What a wonderful thought it is that some of the best days of our lives haven’t happened yet.

Unknown (via pureblyss)

im living for this

(via bl-ossomed)

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Sometimes music makes me believe things are possible when I otherwise wouldn't.

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In times of pain, when the future is too terrifying to contemplate and the past too painful to remember, I have learned to pay attention to right now. Each moment, taken alone, is bearable. Each moment is not without it’s beauty.

Julia Cameron (via twloha)

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Why I won’t use the French flag filter

I’m hesitant to change my profile picture into something supporting Paris.

I see so many people changing their profile picture filters to demonstrate solidarity with Paris and France. I can respect that. I can be inspired by that.

 But I can’t do that.

 I won’t feel inspiring.

 I will feel guilt.

 Guilt for being partial.

 I’ve asked myself where was I when the Syrian civil war began, and all of the innocent lives lost? #StandWithSyria

Where was I when 147 were killed at a Kenyan university? #Pray4Kenya

Why is Paris the only tragedy that I will speak out for and change my profile picture for?

 Not Syria.

 Not Kenya.

 Is it only when something starts “trending” that I will join the “movement”?

I would be changing my profile filter in support, but also because it feels powerful to be a part of a large movement of support. It feels like I’m doing something right and big and meaningful.

 But isn’t it more powerful to be a voice among so few, not a voice among so many?

 Wouldn’t it make more of a noise to speak in quieter conversation (Kenya) than a louder one (Paris)?

 There is so much tragedy in the world.

 So much hate.

 So much loss.

 I will pray for Paris. I will pray for Kenya. I will pray for Syria. I will pray for all of the loss. All of the hate. All of the tragedy.

 But if I choose to speak out, I must speak out on the behalf of victims and tragedy everywhere, not just events that are trending.

 Who am I and what will I become if I only show support for events that are going viral with hashtags? Or events that are in the news today?

 I should be outraged by tragedy everywhere. By injustice everywhere. It’s not just the Paris attacks that should make my blood boil and heart break.

 It should be Syria.

 It should be Kenya.

 It should be school shootings.

 It should be needless bloodshed.

 This is far more than injustice.

 This is the world.

 I would rather be a voice for the few.

 #PrayForParis

 #PrayForAllOfUs

P.S. I should say the the solution to my “guilt” is not saying/doing nothing about Paris. Rather, it should be saying/doing something about all of the other tragedies and injustices while saying/doing something about Paris. 

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“I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become.” - Carl Jung (via Spokenly)

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May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.

Nelson Mandela (via soworthloving)

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“Have patience with all things but first with yourself. Never confuse your mistakes with your value as a human being. You’re a perfectly valuable, creative, worthwhile person simply because you exist. And no amount of trumps and tribulations can ever change that. Unconditional self-acceptance is the core of a peaceful mind.” - Saint Francis de Sales

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(photo by dr_duty_howser)

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My mother once told me that trauma is like Lord of the Rings. You go through this crazy, life-altering thing that almost kills you (like say having to drop the one ring into Mount Doom), and that thing by definition cannot possibly be understood by someone who hasn’t gone through it. They can sympathize sure, but they’ll never really know, and more than likely they’ll expect you to move on from the thing fairly quickly. And they can’t be blamed, people are just like that, but that’s not how it works. Some lucky people are like Sam. They can go straight home, get married, have a whole bunch of curly headed Hobbit babies and pick up their gardening right where they left off, content to forget the whole thing and live out their days in peace. Lots of people however, are like Frodo, and they don’t come home the same person they were when they left, and everything is more horrible and more hard then it ever was before. The old wounds sting and the ghost of the weight of the one ring still weighs heavy on their minds, and they don’t fit in at home anymore, so they get on boats go sailing away to the Undying West to look for the sort of peace that can only come from within. Frodos can’t cope, and most of us are Frodos when we start out. But if we move past the urge to hide or lash out, my mother always told me, we can become Pippin and Merry. They never ignored what had happened to them, but they were malleable and receptive to change. They became civic leaders and great storytellers; they we able to turn all that fear and anger and grief into narratives that others could delight in and learn from, and they used the skills they had learned in battle to protect their homeland. They were fortified by what had happened to them, they wore it like armor and used it to their advantage. It is our trauma that turns us into guardians, my mother told me, it is suffering that strengthens our skin and softens our hearts, and if we learn to live with the ghosts of what had been done to us, we just may be able to save others from the same fate.

S.T.Gibson (via sarahtaylorgibson)

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All of us

I was walking up the steps to church yesterday and a thought came to my mind. 

“We all have access to God.”

Not just the people who seem to have their lives “together”. 

Not just those who make a certain amount of money. 

Not just pastors and worship leaders.

Not just those we view as “important.

All of us. All of us have access to God.