Jesus is our Hope

How often do we feel hopeless?

Hopeless marriages, hopeless parenting, hopeless single life, hopeless job, hopeless situatutions, hopeless healthy living, hopeless in school, hopeless money problems, etc. It can be easy to feel weighed down with hopelessness.

We feel like nothing is changing. There must not be a plan. Life is full of uncertainities. We can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, and we doubt that it even exists. We are confused with the way things are playing out, frustrated that it isn't the way we had planned. All of this pain, hurt, and struggle could never bring about anything good. We have no hope.

THOSE ARE LIES.

The enemy wants you to be distracted, distraught, and defeated. He rejoices in your confusion, struggle, and pain. He dances when we feel helpless and hopeless. He is after us to steal our joy, kill our passion, and destroy our purpose.

The good news is, we don't have to live there. The enemy does not have to have the victory. He can be defeated. We do have hope.

We are blessed to be able to look back. We can see the beginning, the middle, and the end of the Easter story. We look unto Easter with full knowledge of the events, beacuse it has already happened.

But, think about then. The day between His death and His ressurection must have been dark. The Saviour of the world was dead, He was buried, and all hope was gone. His family, His disciples, and His followers were probably all confused. They may have felt like they wasted their time with Jesus. There was no change to happen, life would stay the way it always had been. They were hopeless, swarmed with uncertainities, and filled with doubt. The awful pain of His death would've been all in vain. Nothing made sense.

EXCEPT

God had a plan. He defeated sin, death, hell, the grave, and the enemy, so we can have hope. Not a distant hope that doesn't change anything, but a real, lively hope. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead (1 Peter 1:3)

God's Word brings us the full, beautiful picture of what Jesus did for us, in love, so we can have hope. For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.(Romans 15:4)

So, when your situation feels dark, and you are without hope, remember, God has a plan. He was sovereign when Jesus was in the grave, and He is still sovereign in your life, today. He is not taken by surprise when something alarming occurs. He is in control. He has a plan. He is working things out for good for those that love Him. He is with you. for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. (Deuteronomy 31:6b) There is no need to fear the uncertainty. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.(Isaiah 41:10)

Jesus is our hope. Without His rising again, and conquering death, sin, hell, and the enemy, we would be hopeless. But, He did. He gave us hope.

So celebrate today. We can remember that the day before He arose, He was fighting for us, to bring us real hope.

Happy Easter.

Celebrate who He is, and what He did for you.

Love, M

Super Strength

Do you ever have those moments of super strength? Not quite the pick up cars and save people strength. I'm talking about a moment when you are so strong it doesn't even make sense. A moment when emotionally you are somehow put together so beautifully that you can carry other's burdens, even if only for that moment.
I had a super strength night.
My best friend from high school's  family feels like my own. I call her grandparents, grandparents. Her parents are mom and dad to me. I am often referred to as the second daughter. We have been apart of each other's lives for over ten years.
Earlier this week my friend's uncle passed away. It was very unexpected. It has been a rough week for more people I love.
My first thought when I heard, was you have got to be kidding me Lord! I just did this. The whole funeral mess, and people I love being heartbroken. Seriously?!? We're doing this again??
So, I prayed for strength.
My friend's mom called me yesterday and asked me to make cookies for the family to snack on during the funeral home time. If you know me, you know there are very few things that make my heart as happy as baking for someone I love. So, I baked. I then drove over to her house to drop them off. It was already late, and I should've been in bed, but I knew I needed to be there. So mom and talked, and talked until one in the morning. It was good for both of us to chat. I told her stories of God's faithfulness that I hadn't really shared with anyone before. I shared in different areas how He is working. It was good.
I got four hours of sleep before the alarm went off for work. But even at work today, He gave me rest. It was so weird, but so wonderful. I wasn't too tired. I wasn't cranky. I wasn't overwhelmed. I was resting in Him.
I went up to the funeral home tonight. Dreading going, but knowing He had to be my strength.
He was.
I was able to hold, hug, and comfort the broken. Mama Michelle snapped into mode, and I made sure everyone was hydrated. I helped get paperwork done. I chatted with people I had never met. I shared about the hope we have in Jesus. I talked with the funeral director for a while. It was so bizarre. I had strength.
Someone had approached me because they had recognized me. I didn't know from where, they didn't look familiar. Then they realized, it was from Ariel's funeral. I even had strength to share stories about her. I didn't want to, but I did. And there was healing in that.
I don't feel overwhelmed. I feel His strength and His power.
The funeral is tomorrow. Please be praying for the family. Pray for peace, rest, and healing. Pray that the gospel is preached, and hearts are ready to hear it. Pray that people turn to Jesus. Pray for me to continue to be strength for these people I love.
Goodnight.
Love, M.

Death does not discriminate.

I heard the story the other day about a lady. She went to my church. She was not well known, and kept to herself. A man saw her walking her dog one day. He recognized her, but didn't wave. He saw her again later that week, but didn't think much of it. The next week he curiously drove by a home with multiple emergency response vehicles, and police. He then saw her picture in the paper the next morning. She had died.
Death seems to be looming around the people I love lately. It's in the news, on Facebook, hurting my friends and my family. The past few months it seems like every other day is peppered with some tragedy.
In this, I am learning some things.
Death does not discriminate. It doesn't care if you are old or young, if you are happy or sad, if you have people who love you or are all alone, if you can pay your bills or you can't. It doesn't matter. It takes who it wishes when it pleases.
Life really is precious. Living your days intentionally is the best way to live. Be bold. Take adventures. Live life to the fullest.
Be kind. Wave at someone. Share a smile. Tell people you love them. Be patient. You never know when it will be their last day, or your last day. You also don't know what they are really going through.
Believe Jesus is everything He said He is. He really is. He really did conquer death, hell, sin, Satan, and the grave. He really is preparing a place for those who confess with their mouths and believe in their hearts that He is Lord. Believe that He is healer, comforter, Father, peace, and friend. Believe His love is so overwhelming, we can never begin to understand.
Share hope. Don't keep Jesus to yourselves. We will never have the ability to know when someone may die. The time is now. Be bold. There isn't a second chance after the last breath. You are not responsible for someone's salvation, you are only responsible to share. God is the One who works in hearts.
Be praying for my best friend's as they deal with the sudden loss of a good man.
Have a wonderful night.
Love, M.

He is here.

This has become one of my favorite songs the past few weeks.
Kari Jobe -Here
Come and rest here
Come and lay your burdens down Come and rest here
There is refuge for you now
You'll find His peace
And know you're not alone anymore He is near
You'll find His healing
You're heart isn't shattered anymore He is here
Breathe in
Breathe out
You will You will find Him here
I will rest in You
You will find Him
You will find Him here
You will find Him
You will find Him here

I went to the cemetery.

I am starting to feel like Michelle again. The cranky, weepy, jerk of a girl who has taken my body captive the past month is starting to move out. This weekend I felt like me. The dancing in the car, smiling at everyone, dork of a girl is coming out of hiding. I am beginning to let go of bitterness and anger. I'm becoming me, again.
I visited the cemetery today.
I was driving home, windows down, music up, hand dancing in the wind, and hair blowing everywhere. I started to realize, He's doing it. Ever so carefully, He is healing me, He is using me, He is restoring me.
I pulled into the cemetery. I didn't know if I could do it. If I could be here, and be okay. I wandered around for a few minutes. The last time I was here, the trees still had their leaves. I couldn't find where she was buried. But then I did. I plopped down on the ground. Sitting in the dirt and grass in a dress is not the most lady like thing to do, but for once I didn't care.
Short sleeves, with no jacket in November. What was I thinking? And then the breeze started. I wasn't cold, I was surprisingly warm, but was covered in goose bumps. Then I heard Him. He whispered in the deepest part of my heart, that only He can be. He told me, "I've got you, girl. You are my beloved."
Maybe those words don't do much for you, but for me, sitting at the grave of a girl whom I loved, weeping and mourning, and trying to do life, they meant something.
They meant so much. He loves me. In an overwhelming love. He wants to heal my heart. He wants to see me smile. He desires to use me. He wants to hold me in His arms. I am His girl. His girl. I am His. He is mine.
A breeze blew so fiercely in that moment, it took my breath away for a second. I could feel Him. He was here. My Jesus did not forget about me, or leave me to figure out life alone. He is here.
I heard Him for the first time in four weeks. I felt Him with every bit of me.
He alone is the one that brings hope. He conquered sin, death, hell, the grave, and Satan himself.
What Satan has been trying to use for his own pleasure, God is using for His good. He alone is sovereign. He alone is good.
So, I continue to sort through life. I trust that He really is sovereign. He is working all things for good, because I love Him. I really just want to honor Him. I want my life to point to Jesus, even on the roughest days.
Last time I was here, I picked up a leaf from near where she was going to buried. I stuck it in my Bible to press it. The colors are still bright, its beautiful. It is a reminder that He did conquer the grave. There is beauty in death, only because of Jesus. Today, I took a crinkly, brown, dead leaf. Even in death, when all hope seems lost, He brings hope, and joy.
Have a great night.
Love, M.

Raw. Ugly. Messy. Real. Transparent.

A couple of friends encouraged me to share what has really been going on in my corner of the world. The only reason I am sharing, is because I want to be transparent. I don't normally talk about my relationships (or lack of) with men, work, or my real feelings. But, I want people to know my life is not always perfect. Lately it is a huge mess. God is still God, and He is still good. But life is hard. It doesn't make sense. I just want to be honest and genuine. I want to show that I'm not super spiritual, I'm just a girl working life out. So here it is....
If you are part of a very select few, you know I'm a mess. You know it has been weeks of nightmares and no sleep. You know I crumble into tears multiple times a day. You know I have multiple zits, when I rarely have one. You know I'm angry at God. You know I'm cranky and bothered by so much lately. You know I keep trying retail therapy. You know the smile on my face often isn't real. You know I am falling apart, but I don't want anyone to know. You know when I drive by the cemetery, my heart drops. You hear me say over and over, "I know this gets better. Right?" You know that I know God is good, but I still wonder what in the world He is doing. You know I can't do math because my brain doesn't work, and I love math.
When Ariel passed away three weeks ago, life fell apart. She wasn't my sister, or daughter, or niece, or best friend, but she was a part of my life. I cannot remember a slumber party growing up without her and both our sisters together. Our families are knit together. We celebrate birthdays together. We are there for the big things, and celebrate the little victories. Our families have been close friends for twenty years. We grew up together. We went to the same school for a few years. We grew up in the same church. We did life together. When I taught at the preschool, she was my assistant in my classroom for a little bit. We shared laughs, cries, and stories. Goodness, we both love to talk and man, we could tell stories. We both shared a love for Jesus in a secular workplace. We were friends.
Three days before her accident, my sister who is also 21 got in a bad car accident. I remember her text message saying she had just been in an accident. I had never called someone so quickly. I begged Jesus to keep her safe. She told me she was okay. Bruised, shook up, and her jeep was a mess, but she was okay. So when a few short days later I received a similar call, I laid flat on the ground screaming and begging God not to take her. But, she was gone. How does this even begin to make sense?
How does a gorgeous, vibrant girl full of life just disappear from us? In just a second, lives changed. I don't understand.
So, In memory and honor of Ariel, her aunt ran a marathon, and some of her family got tattoos. If you know me at all, you know those were no where near the top of my list. So I thought about it, and decided to give blood.
Giving a unit of blood can save three lives. I thought that was a fitting way to honor her. I have only given blood successfully three times before, and tried unsuccessfully probably five times. I have always been an advocate for giving blood, that'a not new, but this time it meant so much more. I made sure I ate properly, I cut out caffeine, attempted proper sleep, and mentally prepared to give blood this week. I had been denied because of high blood pressure, fast heart rate, and low iron, so I really focused on trying to take care of myself. I asked a couple close girlfriends to pray for successful donation. (They thought I was a little goofy for asking for prayer for giving blood, but they prayed.) The whole way there, I prayed, and told God that if this wasn't supposed to work He would have to make it clear, and close the door.
So, I tried. Hemoglobin, heart rate, and blood pressure all passed. I was good. And then we started talking travel. Apparently if you have traveled out of the country in the past twelve months, you can't donate. Well, I did live in South America for two months this year. The sweet nurse told me because of a new rule (March 2012) about malaria, I probably wouldn't be able to donate. My heart dropped. I told her I lived in Bolivia, she told me I was denied. She then realized there was a very short list of cities in Bolivia that were malaria free. Cochabamba was on the good list. My heart was so happy. But then I realized I had made a lay over in Santa Cruz, so once and for all, I was denied. I can't give blood until April 1, 2013. I was so disappointed. This is how I wanted to honor Ariel. And now I couldn't. I was so bummed. Why couldn't this have worked out? It was not in my control. Nothing I could've changed it.
I failed. With everything in, I felt like a failure. I was disappointed in myself. Nothing I have been doing lately has been working out the way I want. I know I couldn't have changed it, but I hated myself for not being able to change it. I hate feeling like a failure. That's not me.
So, cranky, cold, and angry, I drove home. I made some cookies, and loved on some people in Pontiac. Loving people distracted me for a bit. My roommate and I then put up our Christmas tree, where I got offended at the dumbest things. I was cranky and stubborn and wanted to cry over everything and nothing in the same moment. I went to church tonight. I have been hating going to church the past month. I normally love church. Singing worship songs brings me to an ugly, silent cry, in a room full of people. Singing that He is faithful doesn't change that people I love as much as my own family are devastated, and life will never be the same. People telling me I need to pray more or read more of the Bible makes me want to punch them in the face.
My life is a mess. I know with everything in me, God is good, He is faithful, He is in control, and He has us in the palm of His hand. Everything I have read and learned about this whole Jesus thing is being sifted through trials of life.
So that's life, in a nutshell.
So, that was perhaps the most honest I have been in a really long time. I have no idea who will read this. Throwing raw, ugly emotions and feelings onto the internet for everyone to read is frightening. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I really do want my life to point to Jesus, even on days like this. So, I share, and I hope that my words make sense to someone, anyone.
Life is raw. It is not always in a neat little package with a pretty bow on top, even though I attempt to wrap it up. It is messy. I am just a girl trying to figure this thing out. So, that's that.
Love, M.

Dark Days

We have been experiencing some dark days as family, friends, church, and community.

A beautiful, amazing, young girl went to be with Jesus on Friday.

And we are left here, distraught, questioning, numb, falling apart, and exhausted.

I was thinking yesterday about dark days.

The darkest day in history was the day that Jesus died.

We only see our side of the story, after all the pieces came together.

But just imagine his disciples who had followed him for years, giving their lives to His ministry, and suddenly were without their leader and teacher. Hopeless. Imagine his mama, Mary. She knew He was the Messiah, but to watch her baby die in front of her for nothing he had done, must've been awful beyond words. Crowds of people who believed and followed, suddenly doubted everything they thought to be true. Angels could not figure out what was happening to heaven's darling. Satan himself rejoicing, believing he had foiled God's plan.

But God was still in control. He was still good. He was still working in ways no one could fathom, behind the scenes.

Three days later, Jesus actually rose from the dead. The dead, not a nap. He conquered death, hell, the grave, Satan, and gave hope. We no longer have to fear death. We have hope. We have promises. Heaven is real. Jesus took care of business.

So, as we go through dark days, we can know with assurance a few things.

God is still on the throne. He is in control. He is good. He is faithful. He doesn't change when life does. He is working this for good for those who love Him. He alone is our hope.

The one phrase the past few days that has risen above any other has been, "God is good." He is good whether or not we believe He is. He is good regardless of our circumstances. He is good. Always. He is good.

Please be praying for peace, and rest for all who knew and loved Ariel. Be praying that Jesus will continue to be shared, and lives will be changed.

Love, M

It's only Jesus.

Tragedy has recently struck very close to home.

A beautiful life was unexpectedly taken.

I have had many conversations with many people sorting out emotions, feelings, and life.

A few people have said the same thing to me, leaving me shocked.

"Well, if she knew you, then you know she is in a better place."

Hold up.

Because she knew me?

No.

Because she knew Jesus personally, and in a real way, she is in Heaven with Him. I don't doubt that for a moment.

Not because she was a good person. Not because she believed in a better place. Not because enough people prayed for her to go to heaven. Not because of anything other than she confessed with her mouth that Jesus is Lord, and believed in her heart that God had raised Him from the dead.

Knowing me, being my friend, or anything I could do in my power will never do anything for anyone. But believing in Jesus will change everything.

He alone is the way, the truth, and the life. No one gets to the Father (God) except through Jesus. He is the only reason I am who I am. He is the only good in me. He is the only one who can change a life. He alone conquered the grave.

It's Jesus. That's all.

Love, M

It's time to tell

There is a story I have been wanting to tell for weeks.

This story and the people in it are so very dear to me.

I have attempted to write it many times, but felt the strongest feeling that it wasn't time.

I believe now is the time to share.

I have tried to be open and vunerable when blogging. I want to be real, and share my heart.

This is a hard one.

So here it goes...

When I was in Bolivia, I fell in love with a baby. His name is Nestor. He is a sweet baby boy. He has a hole in his heart. He lives at the Nutrition Center. He needs surgery to live.

His mom visits every day to feed her baby. She holds him and talks with him. She is exhausted, but the love for her baby is evident.

I met them both my fourth or fifth week in Cochabamba. I immediately fell in love. My heart broke when I realized how old he was, and how tiny he was. I heard his mother explain how expensive his surgery is, and how she didn't know how it was going to work out. They were instantly tattooed onto my heart.

The same week, I was really studying God's word, and discovering how we are commanded to love and care for the poor.

I was so convicted one day while praying outside, I went inside and grabbed money from my "fun budget" and came downstairs. I gave the money to my roommate Kathryn. She had been praying about how to provide for this baby at that same moment. We cried and talked as we realized this was just the beginning of an amazing story.

At any given time, we both could've logged onto our blogs and begged for the money needed for his surgery. But we never felt peace. I wanted to do this myself. But the Lord was telling me He had it under control.

So I waited.

What comes next is awful.

I received an email from my mom a few mornings later telling me in one short line that a baby in our family had gone to be with Jesus via sids.

I am thankful there was no one at the house when I read that email. I was devastated. My heart had been broken caring for the broken in Bolivia. And now God had taken away my cousin's baby???

I was furious. I layed on the floor of my living room and wept. I was mad. I wish in that moment I was with my family. I didn't understand. Maybe I misread those awful words. How could this happen? Where was my God? I am serving Him and his people, and He devastates my family back home? It wasn't fair. Not only was this beyond awful, I was in a totally different continent, left to figure and sort it out myself.

I was a mess.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how family was back home.

I pushed harder into loving people in Bolivia. But in my heart, I was angry. I was angry at God.

I remember in those darkest hours, I would say over and over, "Jesus, You have to be everything You said You are. If You're not, nothing makes sense."

Well, He is everything He claimed to be. He conquered sin, death, hell, the grave, and Satan himself.

He comforts in the darkest moments, and His love is deeper and wider than anyone could ever begin to imagine.

I had just been studying about anguish and how He can turn our weeping into dancing. It didn't mean much when I was reading it days before. But right then, I was daring God to do what He claimed He could.

The following morning, I sat down to check my email with my coffee in hand.

I had received an email from someone my family. The email explained a little bit more than the one liner the day before, and it shares something bigger. He had remembered a few blogs back when I had mentioned a baby needed surgery, but needed the money. He then shared about how God had put it on his heart to give the money. So out of obedience in a devastating time, the money was given in remembrance of the baby our family lost.

No longer was Nestor a baby I had held and loved.

He was our baby.

I visited him the day before I left Bolivia. I held him. I prayed over him. I sobbed reflecting on the loss my family was experiencing back home. I told him, "God has big plans for you. You are going to grow up. You are going to be strong. You are going to run. You are going to get married and have your own babies one day. I know God has big plans for you." I cuddled him close. I gave him kisses.

And then it was time to leave.

I hated it. I ran out of the building, and as soon as the warm air hit my face, I lost it. Bent over and weeping, my friends found me.

Nestor wasn't just some baby I loved. He was my baby.

So I came home. The whole trip holding him in my heart. Life went back to normal. I carried him in my mind. Wherever I went, whatever I did, baby Nestor was on my lips before my God.

I shared this story with a few close friends. I was excited to see what was next for him. I urged many people to be in prayer for him. He was on my heart.

I hated being in the United States, because I wanted to hold my baby.

A week or two after being home, I received an email from my dear friend and roommate, Kathryn.

She loves baby Nestor as I do. And she has been the most incredible contact person to help be my eyes, ears, and arms while I am here.

She had met with his mother, social worker, Nutrition Center administer, and doctors. She became very involved in their lives.

The email stated the dad (who works in the jungle because he doesn't like to be around Nestor so sick) was supposed to get a pay advance to pay for their part of the surgery costs. The dad had lost his job. The email continued with more back story of awfulness. Nestor's mom became an orphan at age 14. When she became pregnant with Nestor, everyone told her to just get an abortion. She cares for her cousin because there is abuse in that home. Story after story that would make your stomach churn.

One of the last things in the email was saying if his mom couldn't find a way to pay for the surgery, he would be taken away from his parents forever.

Kathryn heard the backstory. She heard the details. But more importantly, she heard a need for more than money, she heard a desperate need for Jesus to step in and be all He says He is. She later told me, this is so much more about just handing over money.

This is about being present, and being Jesus in their lives. A real tangible Jesus. Not a thing we say or do or a place we visit. We need to care about people fully, and without care to how it will make us look or if it will ask us to do more than we are comfortable with.

We are called to more.

So, we began praying for provision.

Once again I knew I could make a couple calls, or blog and the money would be there. I was in the wealthiest country with connections. I could make it happen. But again, that still voice told me to wait. So I did....

Kathryn then had a very scary week. She had emergency surgery to remove a mass on her ovary. (Same surgery my roommate had days before in Michigan) There was high suspicion it was cancerous. Her dad flew down to Bolivia to be with her. It was an awful few days of uncertainty. We are now praising God it was found benign!

I hadn't heard much from her since she has been healing.

But I did get a snippet of information. Nestor will be having surgery May 14th.

I don't know how or why or any details. That was all I received.

Please be praying for Nestor and his mom as they prepare for surgery.

Pray also for a full and quick recovery for Kathryn.

Please also be praying for my family as we still are struggling with our own tragedy.

I know my God is sovereign.

Thank you for listening to my heart. This has been the hardest blog to compose. But I hope your heart will be touched, and you will be encouraged that my God is in control.

I have more exciting things to share about me and what I'm doing next. But for now, that is all.

Love, M