This weekend I went back to Charlotte to walk in the Race for the Cure with my mom. She is a breast cancer survivor, so her Bible study decided to walk in her honor as “Team Debbie.” It was a pretty awesome experience walking alongside 15,000 other people in the fight against breast cancer.

(And in case you can’t read my dog’s shirt, it says “Bark for a Cure.” She is a big supporter of the cause and has very strong feelings about it)

The whole event is designed as a kind of women’s empowerment event. Everyone wears pink, you can hear cheerleader chants all throughout the crowd, and various women don shirts reading “I love my ta-tas” and “Save second base.” Written on the bottom of each participant’s racing numbers was a line that read “I Am the Cure.”

And I ate it up. The whole experience made me proud to be a woman! It wasn’t until I glanced at my mom’s racing number that I even gave it all a second thought. The line that read “I Am the Cure” had been scratched out. She had instead written “God is the Cure.”

What a crucial point at an event like that! If we are the cure, then what kind of cure are we talking about when countless women were walking in memory of lost loved ones? If we are the cure, and the cure is healing from breast cancer, then what does that say about women who weren’t healed? Were they simply not strong enough? Brave enough? What does such a mantra imply?

That perspective sounds like a secular version of the popular prosperity Gospel. It teaches that if you will just have enough faith in God,  He will heal you of cancer, get you out of debt, fix your marriage, and give you the life you’ve always wanted.

When this happens, the Church and the world are teaching the exact same thing–believe in something hard enough, and you’ll get all the material blessings you desire.

But when my sweet mom scratched out that line and faithfully wrote in “God is the cure,” she was not referring to the small feat of curing breast cancer. Yes, God is capable of that, but if healing from breast cancer is all that God can offer us, then we offer no hope to those participants who have lost friends and family. If that is the only cure we can expect from God, then there is nothing to run for.

But God is not just the cure. He is THE cure. He cures us of the ultimate disease–He  cures us of death. He cures us in a way that transcends our corruptible bodies. He goes beyond curing us in this world and cures us for eternity. Yes, God can cure us of present illness and pain, but such sicknesses are but a passing vapor. There is a much greater healing that is needed, a sickness of eternal magnitude, and praise the Lord that HE IS THE CURE!

The reason that I know my mom had this in mind is that she walked in memory of her sister, Cheryl, who died 3 years ago after a battle with cancer. We continue to grieve her loss today, but Cheryl was a believer, so we know that while she didn’t receive the physical healing we prayed for, she now lives in glory with the Healer of her soul. We lost her, but God was still her cure.

In a world torn with war, economic unrest, poverty, fear and the upcoming presidential elections that will affect the direction of our nation, that is a message we need to be proclaiming. I am not the cure, nor is any doctor or any leader. But God alone, He is The Cure.

Thanks mom! And Cheryl, we miss you!

Right now I am in the throes of a massive head cold, so I’ve decided to depart from my usual quasi-intellectualism and write about something that’s a little bit more at my current functioning capacity. Bear with me.

(And my apologies to those of you who are offended at the use of the word “poop,” or if you’re like my friend Joe, who is utterly disgusted by girls who make any kind of reference to this bodily function.)

As we all know, most dating relationships go through a series of stages of comfortability. There’s the stage in which you will let your boyfriend see you wearing sweats, when you let him see you without make-up, when you let him kiss you before you’ve brushed your teeth, etc.

But perhaps one of the ultimate relationship benchmarks is the Smelly Bathroom stage. Prior to this stage, you will do whatever it takes to fool your significant other into thinking that you simply do not produce the Big Number 2. You will go across the street, find a bathroom in another part of the building, house, or apartment, or if you don’t have that option, you’ll turn on the bathroom fan and run some water. Or for those of us who are really ashamed, we’ll hold it…much to the dismay of our intestinal tract.

But eventually there comes a point at which you quit putting on the charade, and you just go for it. Sometimes this happens with your foreknowledge, other times you are so desperate that you have no choice and mother nature forces you.

But whatever the circumstances, you reach a point at which you are no longer ashamed in the way you used to be. You have now owned up to the reality that you do in fact poop, and amazingly your boyfriend is still attracted to you, so you have a new level of connectedness and acceptance that you didn’t have before.

What is truly ironic about this whole process is the shame and embarrassment that we associate with this bodily function, even though EVERYBODY does it. Why is it that we feel the need to pretend that we are the only human being in the history of time that doesn’t have to do this? Why aren’t we comfortable with the reality that it’s a normal part of life?

When you get right down to it, everyone poops. And not only that, but everyone’s poop pretty much looks exactly the same (unless you’ve had one of those cheesy burritos from Taco Bell…but let’s not make rules based upon exceptions). We all do it, so what’s the big deal?

Well I got to thinking about this, and I had a striking realization–we engage in the same game of pretend when it comes to sin. Just like the inevitability of an occasional poop, everybody sins. With the exception of Christ, there has never been a single person on earth who has lived a sinless life. Yet we carry on these charades, acting as if we don’t sin, and being ashamed and embarrassed that someone might find us out. In the same way that we’ll run across the street just to find a toilet, we’ll go to extreme measures to hide the sin in our lives, even from the people with whom we are closest.

And this secrecy keeps us in bondage. We are constantly trying to position our lives in such a way that will hide the unattractive parts. But that is no way to live, and it only contributes to a much larger trend in which ALL people think they’re the only ones.

So we need to start being honest about the fact that everyone sins. And just like poop, our sin pretty much looks the same. Scripture tells us that we have not endured any temptation that is uncommon to man (1 Cor. 10:13), so while you may secretly believe that you’re a particularly bad person, God would have to disagree. We are all equally fallen, and all in need of grace, so let’s start talking about it.

Once we create a community in which we can be open about our sin, we might just experience an effect that is similar to the “smelly bathroom” stage of a dating relationship–yes it’s gross, but you are still loved and accepted anyway. That’s a good place to be.

And thus concludes my head-cold inspired writing. I hope you enjoyed it. I will return to my regular standard of thinking and maturity in a few shorts days.

God’s timing is killing me right now. Killing me!

Here’s the deal–for the last several months I’ve been planning a retreat to the beach for all my college students. I picked the location very intentionally, and the whole weekend was designed to be the ideal kickoff for the year. We were supposed to go this weekend.

Unfortunately, tropical storm Hanna had similar plans. Like me, she decided that the North Carolina coast was the perfect spot to spend her weekend. But there isn’t enough room for both of us so I got the boot. Now I’m scrambling for Plan B.

It’s because of stuff like this that I can really hate leading a ministry. There is a LOT of pressure. All the responsibility eventually rests on your shoulders, and if things get screwed up or fail, it’s all your fault. At times, the intensity of the burden feels nearly suffocating.

But the interesting thing is that in those times when I feel most anxious, most fearful, and most prone to quit, I feel closest to God, like I am in the center of His will. It is in those times that I am most compelled to rely on Him.

In those moments, my limitations become undeniably obvious, and I am forced to turn to the One who has no limitations at all. When I realize my inadequacies, I can surrender the situation into the Hands of Him who works mightily through all things.

So while my immediate response to adversity is to retreat, such experiences have taught me to do just the opposite. We should always do MORE than we are initially inclined to take on. By that I don’t mean that we should fill our schedules with an endless number of things that spread us so thin that we can’t do anything well.

When I challenge you to do “more,” I mean “more” in a qualitative, not quantitative, sense. Take on the impossible! Challenge yourself with tasks that are only attainable with the power of God at work. Otherwise, when you cower in the face of such opportunities, you sentence yourself to a mundane life of spiritual mediocrity.

But God has not called us to mediocrity. He’s called us to be dreamers of big dreams, to aim for more than we could have ever imagined, and to believe that God will always exceed our expectations. But in order to do this, we must leave our meager, human-sized goals behind, and instead strive for something more.

What are you working toward? Even if you’re in full-time ministry, it’s still easy to scale down your possibilities to fit within the boundaries of human limitation. But fight that temptation. No matter where you are, do more. Always do more. It can be unbelievably hard at times, but it’s also the most exhilarating and satisfying place to be. Nothing compares with knowing that the Holy Spirit is working through you, thanks to no ability of your own. That, I think, is a real encounter with God.

One day when I was a little girl, I asked my parents why they chose my name and what it meant. My mom told me she had found the name in a book, and the meaning given for it was “princess.” I subsequently spent my entire growing up years believing that my name meant “princess,” and feeling pretty darn special because of it.

Until the fateful day when I googled it. Either the book was wrong or my mom was lying to me, but my name does NOT mean princess. Here is the actual definition for the name Sharon:

It is of Hebrew origin, and its meaning is “a fertile plain”. Biblical place name: refers to flat land at the foot of Mount Carmel.

In other words, my name refers to a giant pile of dirt. Not princess.

This point is driven home all the more when we read it within its context in Song of Solomon. It reads:

“I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.” (2:1)

All this time I thought that this verse was a compliment, an old-timey way of saying that someone was beautiful. But in reality, it is quite the opposite. It is a way of describing someone as being common or average. They are but an ordinary flower of the plain, a lily just like all the others in the valley.

To the left you can see what the Rose of Sharon flower looks like. There is nothing stand out about it. It isn’t ugly, but it isn’t particularly special. No one ever gives someone Roses of Sharon for an anniversary or birthday. It’s not that type of flower.

Given this information, my namesake seems somewhat fitting. How many times have I felt like a common lily among orchids, roses, and tulips! That is the message our culture frequently conveys–if you are not tall, thin, cute, busty, and well-dressed, then you are plain-Jane average and no one will give you a second glance. You’re nothing but a Rose of Sharon.

I’ve also felt this way in the wake of broken relationships. Following a number of break-ups, my exes moved on to date other girls almost right away. And when this happened, I felt like little more than a notch in their belts. I was just one girl among many. I wasn’t special at all–just one lily among thousands just like me.

Song of Solomon therefore provides us with a tremendous insight into the female mind. It comforts the female heart with the knowledge that when you feel that way, you are not alone! It is a very common mindset for women, and perhaps one of the primary ways that Satan attacks us. After all, God created us to reflect His beauty, so what better way to undermine the glory of God than to cast seeds of doubt about the truth of our beauty? No, you are not alone in feeling this way.

But what is even more wonderful about this passage is the lover’s response to his beloved. When she belittles her beauty, claiming that she is nothing but a plain lily of the valley, her lover replies, “Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the maidens.”

Guys, you better be taking notes, because that is the perfect response! In contrast with her self-perception he speaks truth into her heart, telling her that she’s a lily among thorns, a flower so beautiful and rare that she puts all other flowers to shame. They look like weeds in comparison.

Even though this is an ancient love story using language that is foreign to our modern sensibilities, there is truth in these verses for all of us. First this story reminds us to settle for nothing less than the courtship it describes. Don’t allow a guy to treat you like a lily of the valley, using your body or your attention like he might use any other girl. Wait for the man who sees you as the lily among thorns that you are. And it’s not enough for him to say it–he must demonstrate it with his actions. Does he treat you in a way that sets you apart? Does he guard your purity and speak about you in a way that is honoring? Does he hold you in high esteem as the precious treasure that you are?

But more importantly, this verse must be read within a larger context. Throughout the history of the Church, Song of Solomon has been interpreted as an allegory for God’s love for us. God pursues us and ravishes us in what can only be described as the greatest love story ever told. And given that fact, we must remember that when the lover defends the beauty and honor of his beloved, God does the same for us.

Ladies, not one of us is common. Not one of us is ordinary or plain. God did not create ordinary or plain, because He only created those things which reflect His character, a character that is beautiful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, and good.

He also created each one of us to be different–each one of us has something unique to offer the world, which is why he designed each one of us so personally and intimately–He had a specific purpose in mind. That said, you are never a lily among many, because there isn’t a single lily in all of creation that is like you.

So the next time you feel like an average Rose of Sharon, or a common lily of the valley, stop and listen to the words that God is whispering into your heart: “Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the maidens.” You are His darling.

If you ever go to my facebook page, you’ll find I belong to a group called, “I Picked a Major I Like, and One Day I Will Probably Be Living in a Box.” The name of this group about sums up my dad’s sentiments when I told him I had decided to major in Religion.

And not only did I major in Religion, but I deliberately avoided all the classes that would have equipped me for high paying jobs. I hate math and science with an intensity that is beyond compare, so I opted out of taking math altogether (so long econ and stats!), and I took the minimum requirement of science classes (no pre-med for me!).

And what science classes did I take? Well one of them is affectionately referred to as “Rocks for Jocks.” I sat on the same row as the entire Duke basketball team, and I got an A without so much as breaking a sweat. Not exactly Organic Chemistry.

My parents probably thought I was actively trying NOT to get a job when I graduated.

Now the reason I am giving you all of this information is that I am about to make a statement that is blatantly scientifically inaccurate. Any person who’s taken even basic high school Physics knows that this statement is false. But I’m making this statement as a Religion major, not a Physics major, so I wanted to preface my words with that disclaimer. Now here it is:

The speed of sound is faster than the speed of light.

I stumbled upon this statement in a book I’ve recently been reading, and I think it’s brilliant. From a scientific standpoint, it makes no sense at all, but read in another light, the light of faith, it is a telling description of the Christian experience.

The book I am reading is entitled “Nine Marks of a Healthy Church” by Mark Dever, and in this particular passage he is talking about the centrality of Scripture. He is explaining that all of God’s teachings and promises are found within the Bible, so we must labor to keep God’s Word at the center of our faith.

What, then, does he mean by the above statement? After all, anyone who’s ever sat through a thunderstorm knows that you see the lightening before you hear the thunder. Scientifically speaking, the speed of light is faster than the speed of sound.

But that’s not what Dever was talking about. He was instead referring to a different kind of sound and light: the hearing of God’s promises (sound), and the witnessing of their fulfillment (light).

You see, God makes a lot of promises in the Bible, but it often takes awhile for us to see them. That is to say, we hear God’s promises before we see them come to pass. So according to God’s chronology, the speed of sound is oftentimes faster than the speed of light.

And we see this principle all throughout Scripture. God promises to make Abraham’s descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky, but he and Sarah are old in age before they have their first child. God promises the Israelites a land flowing with milk and honey, but it is decades before they get to see it. And God promises the Israelites a Messiah, but is is hundreds of years before Jesus enters the seen. And even then, he is not at all what they imagined.

Having said that, I want to encourage you with this reminder: Wherever you are in life right now, if you feel as though God has forgotten you, or nothing seems to be going right, remember that the speed of sound is faster than the speed of light. We can look in Scripture and find countless promises for God’s people, promises that were not fulfilled until long after their hearing, but they were nevertheless fulfilled.

So just because you haven’t seen the fulfillment of God’s promises for your life, family, job or ministry does not mean the fulfillment isn’t coming. If there’s one thing we can learn from the stories in the Bible, it’s that God ALWAYS makes good on His promises. He may take longer than we would prefer, but we can count on His faithfulness every time.

At least that’s my Religion Major take on things. But don’t take it from me–I might be living in a box one day.

I realize that, for some of you, this is old news by now, but I went to a Shane and Shane concert over the weekend and was BLOWN AWAY by one of their newest songs. The name of it is “Embracing Accusation,” and it puts an insightful spin on our usual understanding of Satan. Here are the lyrics…

The father of lies, coming to steal, kill and destroy all my hopes of being good enough.
I hear him saying, “Cursed are the ones who can’t abide”…

He’s right.

Alleluia he’s right!

The devil is preaching the song of the redeemed, that I am cursed and gone astray.
I cannot gain salvation embracing accusation.

Could the father of lies be telling the truth of God to me tonight?
If the penalty of sin is death, then death is mine.
I hear him saying, “Cursed are the ones who can’t abide”…

He’s right.

Alleluia he’s right!

Oh the devil’s singing over me an age old song, that I am cursed and gone astray,
Singing the first verse so conveniently, he’s forgotten the refrain:

Jesus saves!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How amazing and true! When Satan speaks to us about our guilt, condemnation, and sentence, he’s right! We are guilty, we are worthy of condemnation, and we do deserve death.

And given those truths, we can praise God ALL THE MORE because He saves us anyways. Rather than wallow in our sin, this knowledge adds increasing depth to our rejoicing. We see with even greater clarity the infinite expanse of God’s goodness and mercy.

So yes, the Devil is correct. We deserve all of which he accuses us. But he is only preaching the first half of the Gospel. The story begins with sin, but it ends in redemption.

So unlike the Devil, we must not stop at that first truth, and we must not be overcome by accusation. However, I would offer that there is a degree to which we should embrace the accusation. It is only when we comprehend the depth of our depravity that we can even begin to understand the meaning of that glorious refrain: Jesus Saves!

What a beautiful reminder. Definitely check out that song if you haven’t already.

To be completely honest with you, my time in the Word has been struggling lately. I have not had consistent, in-depth, intimate time with God in quite some time. But it is not for lack of motivation.

In general, the practice of maintaining a regular quiet time is treated as a matter of sheer discipline. If you don’t have one, it’s because you are lazy. End of story. I would like to propose that this Christian discipline is a bit more complicated than that.

But first, let me give you a little background on my own struggle to have a quiet time. Contrary to expectation, it has little to do with an inability to wake up early in the morning. Rather, it stems from a much bigger picture.

This past year has been a hard one for me on a number of different levels. I have had uncertainty about my future, I have had people betray me whom I trusted. I have lost loved ones unexpectedly. I have been tired, worn out, and overwhelmed by life. Sometimes it has been a challenge to get out of bed in the morning.

Given these struggles, one would think that my time in the Word would be that much sweeter. After all, it is in these valleys that I need God’s refuge and comfort the most. Desperately, even. And yet, I have had to drag myself to open my Bible. It’s not that I can’t remember to make time for it–it’s that I don’t want to. The idea of taking that time to read and pray is almost frightening to me.

But why? Why is my soul having the exact opposite reaction that it should be having? The answer is that I have become terrified of silence. The moment I sit still and eliminate all my distractions is the moment I have to confront everything that is burdening me, hurting me, draining me. And frankly, I don’t want to do that.

So what do I do instead? I fill every waking moment with noise. From the moment I wake up I flip on the television. When I’m in the car I listen to talk radio. Even when I’m in my office I have music playing. I use all of those avenues to escape reality. As long as I can keep myself distracted, then I don’t have to think about the pains of life.

Providentially, I heard a podcast with pastor Rob Bell today, and he addressed this issue in a way that has helped me think through this problem. He began by explaining that when he and his wife first started observing the Sabbath, they found themselves in a full-on depression by the afternoon. The reason, he concluded, was that his body had become addicted to the adrenaline hits of a busy day. He was so trained to go, go, go that his body was almost chemically dependent on it. Without that schedule, his body and mind didn’t know what to do with themselves, so on Sabbath days they simply shut down. It took years before he could wean himself off of that lifestyle.

I can relate. My body has become addicted to the rush of a busy day, not only in a chemical way, but in an emotional way. The distractions of my schedule serve as an emotional crutch, because they allow me to escape my hardships, pretend that they don’t exist. Rather than face my suffering, I hide from it amidst my daily plans.

From this perspective, the discipline of having a quiet time is about more than overcoming laziness. For some of us, it means we must wage an all-out battle–we must wage against our own physiological addiction to busy-ness, and we must wage against our fear of confronting silence and stillness. We will have to overcome both physical and emotional barriers before we can truly engage in the intimacy and vulnerability that a meaningful time with God demands.

Having said that, do not assume that struggling with this discipline means you are simply a bad Christian or that you are just plain lazy (although I’m not gonna lie–some of you are!). What’s more, having a quiet time does not mean you are engaging in real intimacy with God–it is easy to read Scripture quickly and superficially without engaging the heart. When you do this, you are turning your quiet time into just another distraction.

With all those factors in mind, we are wrong to oversimplify this Christian discipline. The truth of the matter is that time alone with God is an overwhelming prospect. For some of us, we are afraid of being that vulnerable, and for others it is a matter of retraining our bodies’ in a fundamentally physical way. But either prospect is daunting, so it is no wonder that many of us struggle with this seemingly simple Christian practice.

For that reason, I challenge you to confront the silence. When you’re driving in your car, turn off the radio. When you are getting ready for bed at night, flip off the tv. Set aside a Sabbath day each week. And most importantly, make time for real, searching, intimate time with God. Embrace the silence, even if that means embracing the fears and harships that you have run from all day long. Even if it is hard to focus and you feel frustrated or inefficient, confront the silence. Why? Because God promises to meet us in that place, as he reminds us in Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God.” We must simply be still.

As long as we are running, then we are running away from God. As this verse teaches, experiencing God’s love does not entail any kind of running at all. We don’t have to do, do, do, go, go, go, or run, run, run. He is already with us, and He already loves us. We must simply be still.

One of my all time favorite movies is The Princess Bride. Aside from the fact that it’s a great story with great characters and great dialogue, it’s also a fantastic love story.

In case you are not familiar, the movie is about a beautiful woman named Buttercup who lives on a farm and falls in love with her servant boy, Westley. They are wonderfully happy together, and Westley leaves to seek his fortune so that they can marry. Sadly, Westley’s ship is taken by pirates and he is killed, so Buttercup eventually agrees to marry the evil Prince Humperdinck.

Through a crazy course of events, we find out that Westley is not, in fact, dead, and he subsequently overcomes every obstacle imaginable to be reunited with his true love. He battles pirates, princes, giant-sized rats that try to bite off his arm, and he even comes back from the dead. But none of it will stand in the way of Westley and his love. Nothing.

(Excuse me while I pull myself off the floor. Just thinking about this movie made me swoon.)

Even though we all know how romantic movies like this will always end, women cannot help but flock to them in droves, and it’s not hard to see why. No matter what happens, no matter what stands in the way, the leading man always comes back. He fights for her. He recognizes just how valuable she is and that she is worth the battle. No matter the cost, he will win her heart.

And when we women see this, our hearts melt with delight. That is exactly what we’re looking for.

While these movies are mildly dangerous because they cause us to have unrealistic expectations for dating and marriage, I also think there is something to them. There is a desire in the heart of every woman to be fought for. We want a man who loves us so profoundly that he would do everything within his power to have us. That desire is undeniable.

As I look back on my dating relationships over the years, I see that desire in full effect. The one common element amidst all my break-ups was this: disappointment that they didn’t fight for me. You always hope that, in spite of it all, your guy will see you as a prize worth fighting for, worth becoming a better man for.

But that hasn’t happened for a lot of us single girls. For some of us it’s been quite the opposite–we’ve been hurt, betrayed, used, and abandoned. So it is sometimes tempting to believe that I am not worth fighting for. If it is that easy for each one of those guys to walk away, then maybe I’m not really a prize worth winning.

I think we all have those days. They are difficult to say the least. BUT, it is on those days that we must also recognize the lies behind such a mindset. The truth is that you ARE worth fighting for. The truth is that you ARE a prize worth winning. And how do I know that? Because God fought for you. God loved you and treasured you greatly. He declared that you are worth the battle.

I don’t mean that to sound cliche, but if you stop and consider the magnificent love revealed to us in the Gospel, it’s quite breath-taking. I mean, I want a guy to fight for me, but die for me? That sounds a little extreme. I don’t think I’m worth that.

But God did. And that is a truth we must stand on now, as well as the rest of our lives. I suspect that the desire to be fought for is not satisfied the day you say “I do.” I suspect that married women wrestle with this yearning as well. Your husband might disappoint you or hurt you, and maybe you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or care about your needs. Well it is in those moments that you too must continue to rest in the knowledge that God fought for you. Our husbands, our boyfriends, our friends–they will all let us down. But not God. He is our Braveheart, our Prince Charming, our Westley.

So if any of you are hurting or lonely today, please take this encouragement. It comes from someone who knows your pain and is familiar with the loneliness. But try not to dwell on it. God fought for us so that we would be free from those things. We must not imprison ourselves when the prison doors have been undone. And we must certainly not mope in a puddle of self-pity when someone has loved us so beautifully. After all, there is a spiritual war going on around us, and we need to do some fighting of our own. When there are so many lost souls, starving children, and war-ravaged countries in this world, I dare not spend another moment wondering if I’m lovable when God has loved me so deeply.

Several months ago I had the privilege of hanging out with an up and coming pastor from Seattle named Mark Driscoll (and by “hanging out” I mean that my pastor was meeting with him and I got to sit in the same room). Although Driscoll has a great deal of wisdom and is an incredibly godly man, he’s also not afraid to speak his mind bluntly, especially concerning the Emerging Church movement, so he’s become a lightning rod for criticism.

Knowing this about Driscoll, my pastor asked him how he coped with the the slander, betrayals, and overall critiques. Driscoll explained that he has used those hardships to make himself stronger. Each hit was like having a brick thrown at him, but instead of letting those bricks destroy him, he chose to take the bricks and lay them down as a foundation on which he could stand, stronger and more sure.

To be perfectly honest, this analogy made little sense to me at the time. Was this just a manly way of saying, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade?” Ie. “when life gives you bricks, build a house?” Whatever, Driscoll….

Well it wasn’t until I recently had a proverbial “brick” thrown in my face that I realized just what Driscoll was talking about. He wasn’t simply advising that we make the most of a bad situation. Instead, we should aim for more than survival. There is a way to take those bricks and actually strengthen ourselves with them.

In case this analogy doesn’t connect with you either, here is how Driscoll’s illustration makes sense in my mind….

Imagine for a moment that you are an 8th grade boy. One day you get in a fight with some scrappy kid at school, and the whole affair plays out somewhat innocently until, all of a sudden, the little punk picks up a brick and throws it at your face.

Now at first, you’re gonna be in some pretty major pain, and your face is gonna be a mess. You’re probably knocked off your feet, you’ve got a broken nose, there’s blood everywhere, and on top it all you’re humiliated. You may lay on the ground for quite awhile moaning and groaning. You might even cry.

But eventually you get back up, you go to the doctor, your face heals, and you move on. Your face is still sore for awhile, and you may even have a scar from it, but you know what? You are now the kid who had a brick thrown in his face but lived to tell the tale! You are the man!

Now you are stronger and braver than you were before. Why? Because the next time you get in a fight with a kid, his puny little middle schooler fist is gonna look like a marshmallow compared to that brick. Nothing can scare you now because not even a brick in your face was able to conquer you.

And in that way, the brick in your face becomes a point of strength. In fact, it is a landmark in your life that you can stand on. If you can recover from a brick in your face, then you can overcome anything!

Plus, people will know that about you. They’ll know you as the kid that wasn’t slowed down by a broken face. You could bleed all over the ground but still come to school with your head held high, and they’ll respect you for it. You’ve got street cred. The 8th grade girls will be all over you.

That brick is now a part of who you are, and because of that brick, you are better and stronger than you were before.

It is the same with the proverbial bricks. If someone throws a brick in your face by betraying you, lying to you, or hurting you, it’s gonna hurt at first. You might lie on the ground for awhile in pain and shame. But if you can get up, if you can heal and move on, then that brick can become a point of strength. You can look back on that time in your life and remember, “That really really hurt, but it did not overcome me. I am still standing, and I am still moving forward. And if I could overcome that, then I can overcome anything.”

In this way, you can use those bricks to build a strong foundation for your life. You can look back on your life, look at all those bricks that were thrown your way, and rejoice in the knowledge that you are still standing. God was faithful, and you got through it.

Those bricks are therefore a reminder that when we are weakest, God is strongest. When we think that we can do little more than survive, God makes us into more than conquerors. So the next time that life throws a brick in your face, just remember that, while it might hurt right now and you may be tempted to scream a few choice swear words, you can use those bricks to build a firm foundation for the future. As Kanye West wisely rapped, what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger.

Last night I went to a CD release party for a new Blues artist named Toby Bonar. He’s a very talented musician so I had a great time, but what I enjoyed most about the concert was the stories behind his songs. Toby is not only a musician, but he’s also a Christian, so some of his music reflected his faith, and I was truly blessed by it.

In particular, Toby introduced one of his songs by talking about the healing process. He explained that whenever we get hurt, we always want the wound to be healed quickly. That is not, however, what we see in nature. If someone breaks their arm, a doctor can immediately set it back in place, but it will take weeks before the arm is actually healed. And if a fire ravages a forest, it will be decades before the trees grow back to their original verdancy.

And it is the same with the heart. Whenever someone wounds us, we want to feel better right away, but that is not the way God designed us. In fact, when we do seek instant gratification healing, we are oftentimes not experiencing healing at all. Rather, we are finding ways to temporarily ignore the wound or cover it up, thereby allowing the wound to secretly fester.

In reality, healing takes time, not because God is unable to heal us instantly, but because there is much to be learned in the healing. For one, our hurt compels us to run back to Him. It reminds us of our own insufficiency, and our desperate needs for His love, grace and strength.

The healing process also forces us to work on other areas of our lives. When someone breaks a leg, then the rest of their body must work twice as hard to make up for it. In doing so, their other leg, arms and back grow stronger while they allow the injured limb to heal. Similarly, when your heart is wounded, you are faced with an excellent opportunity to discipline your thought life. You can either dwell on the pain, the loneliness, or the insecurity, and allow those thoughts to wound your heart all the more, or you can exercise Scripture’s command to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ,” (2 Cor. 10:5). In this way, a wounded heart becomes an opportunity to master your thought life. But only if you seize that opportunity.

And so I challenge you and encourage you–if you are hurt or wounded right now, don’t run from it. Don’t seek instant gratification healing. Instead, embrace the woundedness and all that God has to teach you through it. The healing process may be long and grueling, but God is not a God of waste, so you can trust that there are treasures waiting for you, even now. You may not see or feel Him, but God still is at work.