June 26, 2024

 

 

In my lifetime, the hardest moments I've experienced are the moments that demanded I wait. A season of waiting that removes my ability to control or navigate outcomes.  The kind of waiting that eliminates any sense of control.  Personally, I'd rather be in the throes of a spiritual battle or feeling the pressure of high-impact decisions and even resolving conflict between grieving parties.  But waiting, waiting is hard.  

But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31).  I was prompted to memorize this verse as a child, but the weight of this verse was lost on me in my youth. As a child, I couldn’t conjure up enough patience to wait on anything.  As the youngest of four children, I understood if I was going to get my share of anything I better act quickly.  I learned to be a bit shrewd and almost cunning to get a piece of the proverbial pie.  However, that mindset has wreaked havoc on my soul as an adult believer.

 

Waiting has always made me feel inadequate.  Waiting feels lazy.  For a self-starter, waiting feels like a waste of time and energy. Yet waiting is a common theme throughout scripture in the lives of some mighty men and women. From Joseph being falsely imprisoned for more than ten years and waiting to be remembered by the cupbearer, to David hiding and waiting in caves during the reign of Saul, Esther had fasted and prayed for three days for her opportunity to appear before the king to present her petition to save the Jews from Haman’s decree, Nehemiah waited four months to speak with the King, Noah waited in an ark for a year, the disciples waited forty-seven days for Pentecost. There seem to be significant stories of waiting from Elijah to Paul, where waiting dictated seasons of their life.  

 

So why do I think God would use another tool to shape me differently when it comes to waiting? See, waiting is a refining anvil like no other.  Waiting fleeces my strength.  It emaciates my pride and ego as well.  Waiting eradicates control.  And that is why I struggle with waiting.  At the end of the day, my spirit longs for control.  My inhibitions desire to dictate outcomes and secretly relish in the sense of superiority to life's questions, but deeper my soul clings to advancing my self-worth. Waiting reminds me that my life is not about my self-worth.

 

See, they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, leaves the impression that I get my strength back when I wait. Yet, my strength is what needs to be surrendered. Philippians 2:3 (AMP) For it is [not your strength, but it is] God who is effectively at work in you, both to will and to work [that is, strengthening, energizing, and creating in you the longing and the ability to fulfill your purpose] for His good pleasure.  My strength only intensifies my will, not His. The period of waiting for the disciples for Pentecost was crucial to their empowerment of the Holy Spirit. A.B Simpson, the founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance, has something to say about waiting until we are clothed or filled with the Spirit. He said, “These waiting days were necessary to enable the disciples to realize their need, their nothingness, their failure, and their dependence upon the Master. They had to get emptied first before they would get filled.”

 

When I wait upon the Lord I receive His strength through His Spirit, not mine.  In the waiting, my strength is challenged and in some sense put to death for His strength to take center stage in my soul.

 

The question that stirs in my soul is, “Who’s strength do I want to operate in?”  If I want to be filled by the Spirit then waiting becomes a nonnegotiable, but if I want a temporary, fleeting, empty moment of self-approval then by all means, Korey you do you.

                                                                                                                                May 25, 2023

There was a word spoken today that captured my heart.  It was said, “You will become what you choose not to forgive.”  My cynical mind questioned the truth behind this statement and mentally I pushed back with a snap judgment of self-righteousness.  I thought this was trite and simply a cliché that finds itself as s sticker on the bumper of one's life.  But then it found its way into the broken places of my self-absorbed soul. 

 

“You will become what you choose not to forgive.”  I recognize that I counsel and teach people to forgive from the platforms and office spaces of my public profession.  I remind people that forgiveness is not a singular moment, but an ongoing choice.  Forgiveness is a choice that takes place every time that offense is brought to my attention.  Recognizing that I may choose forgiveness today, but falter and fail to extend that same forgiveness tomorrow.  Why?  Because God wired us with the capacity to remember, and our memories produce emotions in the depth of our being.  Memories bind up our wounds or create them.  Memories can ignite our joy or burden our souls.

 

What I began to understand in the quietness of my morning while sitting here at my desk is simply, we are what we know.  My thinking, my actions, and my worldview are heavily shaped by what I have experienced. What I have been immersed in and who I have been surrounded by quietly leave indelible marks on my steps.  It’s why there are moments when what I say or how I respond mirrors that of those that raised or mentored me.  They have left lasting impressions on my soul.  And what is down in the well comes up in the bucket.

 

See, unforgiveness is so poisonous because it becomes my drink of choice.  I nurse it like a solo cup full of emotional comfort in the chaos of indecision and self-deprivation.  I fill it up when I think it’s almost dry simply for the comfort of believing I fit in at a party of people I don’t even like. I think somehow unforgiveness will keep me in the cool crowd.  It will justify my words and attitudes about a person that I feel in some way superior to because of some arbitrary self-serving standard that props me up to be king of my domain. It gives me a false sense of control.

 

When my thoughts about something ruminate for long enough, they give birth to something.  That birth produces something beautiful, praiseworthy, and full of meaning or painful and ultimately full of sorrow.  If what I know and have taught is the practice of unforgiveness then that will be what I return to in my true self.  It might not come out in casual conversation, but it will gnaw at my soul in the quietness of my thoughts and sleepless nights.  As it gnaws at my spirit it shapes me.  It forms my heart.  And now that anger, resentment, bitterness, impurity, or judgmental spirit of another that wounded me so long ago, defines me.  I find myself in a heap scratching spiritual sores with the broken pottery of my self-righteousness, shame, and guilt.  

 

Today I have a choice.  I have the emotional capacity to extend forgiveness even when that forgiveness is undeserved.  I have the understanding that Christ forgave me in the depth of my sin when I was most undeserving.  Today I can pick up my cross and crucify my unforgiveness as I deny myself and follow Him. There is joy in Him.  There is joy in his leadership.  He leads me to forgive because I was forgiven.  I can even forgive myself.

                                                                                                                         May 18, 2023

This morning I heard a friend refer to the claw marks he’s left on all the things that discipleship has called him to give up.  That hit home for me.  The level of truth that comes with that statement is gut-wrenching.  Genuine Christ-centered discipleship calls us into a life that is not our own.  It forces me to look at my story and recognize the litany of claw marks I’ve left behind.    “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me.”  That’s the call.  That’s the cost of discipleship.

 

I’ve never been very good at denying myself.  From my diet, my rhythms, relationships, and financial stewardship, my inner self has always fought to find its way to the forefront.  It clamors for attention like a two-year-old in a candy store when no one is watching.  Me, me, me, is that nature of our souls that we war with.  Self brings frustration and sorrow, yet it never seems to be completely silenced in our pursuit of something greater or something Godly.  

 

When I look back over my spiritual journey there are some things that reveal gnarly, altering marks that when given too much attention bring back a shame that reminds me of my inability to surrender.  See, I believe that the ultimate mark on my life as a disciple is measured by my level of surrender.  My ability to yield to what is greater, grander, and giving of His glory.  To choose His will over my own.  

 

See that is why I believe the cross holds such a presence in the redemptive story.  The cross was and is an instrument of death.  It’s cruel, brutal, and insufferable.  It’s too extreme to bear alone.  And my misperception of the cross has been my greatest hurdle to yielding to His will.  Once I began to understand the reason Christ called us to take up our cross, I began to recognize the freedom that came with my death.  You and I cannot carry our cross alone.  Our crosses crush our joy, our spirit, and our resolve.  Self cannot survive on the cross.  

 

The only way for me to take up my cross is to yield to the one who already overcame the death that the cross gives way to.  Matthew 16:24 reads:  Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”  If you fail to understand the order of Christ's words, then one's life will be marred with painful claw marks.  He says, “If anyone would come after me,” is the deal breaker.  I can’t pursue Christ and self at the same time.  I have a choice to make.  He doesn’t make that choice for me.  He invites me to pursue Him.  He welcomes me, but He doesn’t force the pursuit on me.  

 

My dilemma comes in the perceived weight of the pursuit of self.  The pursuit of self never brings contentment. It only brings a greater sense of my need for more.  He says, “Let him deny himself”.  As early as I can remember I’ve never been fond of being told what I can’t have.  It’s why Jesus says, “Let him.”  He’s giving freedom to freely make the choice of Savior over self.  Let him what?  He says, “deny himself.”  I must acknowledge His invitation of the refusal to give or grant myself what this world tells me I should want.  It’s a refusal of a lie for His truth.  So, he gives me the understanding by which denial is ultimately accomplished.  Death.

 

“Take up your cross” is clear about whose cross this is.  Not His cross, but mine.  He knows what I need to die to which makes my cross personal.  I believe Jesus is saying, once you refuse to pursue your selfish ambition, I’ll give you the strength to die to it, but not until.  The cross is the freedom, but the willingness to die on it, well that’s the hard part.  See Jesus gives assurance in his words, “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  However, you can’t receive that shalom until you take the steps to come to Jesus.  Once you surrender your will to the leading of Christ, He gives you the strength to endure the cross.  I don’t carry my cross alone.  

 

See, He finishes that statement with, “and follow me.”  If I follow someone in close enough proximity, they will feel my weight.  If I get close enough, they will carry my weight.  How closely I follow Jesus impacts the weight of my cross.  The moments when the Christian life seems too heavy to bear typically have evidence of the marks my claws have left while holding on to myself versus my Savior.  

 

                                                                                                                                 March 23, 2023

Twenty-five hours ago thirteen people stepped into a calling to leave the comfort of our daily lives and fulfill Matthew 28:19 in a small coastal town in Ecuador.  Our desire was to step into the great unknown and use the gifts the Spirit has placed in us in order that He might work through us.  That’s ultimately what Matthew 28:18-19 is calling us to.  That passage is calling us to show the world why we follow Christ.  To demonstrate His redemptive story in such a manner that would draw the hearts of others into the very relationship that has transformed our own. 

 

I heard someone express discipleship this week in terms of what it looked like to follow a rabbi in Jesus’ day.  It was the idea that you would follow a rabbi so closely that the dust from their sandals would cover you to the point that their dust became your dust.  But the only way for that form of discipleship to be real is proximity.  Proximity that requires intimacy.  You can’t be that close to someone without them, and everyone else, noticing.  Yet recognize that is not just a season in one’s life, that is one’s life.  You don’t follow closely one day and then from a distance the next.  To be known as His disciple means I keep His dust on me each day, each hour, each minute.  I don’t leave His presence for my own desires, my own dreams, or my own agenda.

 

See Matthew 28:18-19 seals this idea with the call of baptism.  See baptism signifies my life in 

Christ as one that is sealed.  Meaning that I’m buried with Him in the likeness of His death, and I am raised to “walk” in the newness of His life.  When I walk in the newness of His life, that life never loses its shine.  It never fades.  I must recognize that I’m walking in the newness of His life, not mine.  My life has nothing to offer the world.  For my life to truly matter means I’m walking so closely with my rabbi that people don’t see my life, they see His.    I don’t follow Jesus because it makes my life better.  I follow Jesus because it makes my life matter.

 

I’m not approaching this week in Ecuador asking what I get out of it.  I’m not even truly looking for personal fulfillment during our time here.  I’ve traveled the world from Belarus, Zimbabwe, Serbia, South Africa, China, Thailand, Haiti, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Canada, Honduras and the Caribbean Islands.  The Lord has blessed me with the great privilege of experiencing His church on a global scale.  I’m walking into this moment looking to get dusty.  I want to find where Jesus is at work, and I want to join Him.  I want a conscience experience with the Rabbi I follow.   I want someone to see the evidence of His grace in my life that points them to the Rabbi who’s working through me.  I want someone to get dirty because of the dust on me.  I want someone to find the waters of baptism because they recognized how dirty they are from a broken and fallen world.  I want to witness what happens when someone encounters the grace demonstrated by the Rabbi’s blood washing over them.  Rabbi lead… I will follow.  Let me get dust in my eyes.

 

                                                                                                                                     March 21, 2023

There are certain seasons that seem to come with more questions than answers.  You know, those seasons where the weight and silence seem overwhelming?  It’s not just the idea of things not going my way, it's that I'm uncertain as to what my way even means.  I struggle with my way.  I like my way.  I always have.  I don’t like my way to be micromanaged or dictated to by outside voices.  There is a reason it’s called my way.  

 

There is a selfishness to my way that is captured by my pride, my ego, my ambition.  It wakes up speaking to me even before I fumble in the darkness to find that ever elusive snooze button.  It clammers for space and attention in my mind like the gnawing pangs of an empty stomach.  It finds its way into my identity and purpose, clouding my vision as to who I am as a child of the King, because my King cannot be King in the midst of my way.  They cannot coexist.  He cannot be Lord and yet bow to my way.  

 

I wrestled with my way today as I walked through Romans 1.  Paul attempts to warn and plead with believers to identify this crab grass of my way that sprawls across our hearts like a withered lawn on a hot Texas July day.  See, like an invasive weed takes root, my way begins to produce an unrighteousness even in the best of soils.  It suffocates the truth in my life.  It chokes out His voice and replaces it with mine.  

 

I wrestle with this pursuit of righteousness, like the endless quest of ridding the obstinate weeds from the fresh soil in the garden of my soul.  See Paul makes the claim with a certain ambiguity, which is meant to bring clarity, “The righteous shall live by faith.”  But at first glance that is not as clear as it should be.  Paul is saying, “The one who by faith is righteous shall live.”  I began to see that I don’t have faith because I’m righteous.  My righteousness is the very reason I have faith, but not in my righteousness, His.  My way is rooted in the idea that I’m pursuing my own righteousness, but Christ declared there are none righteous, no, not even one.  

 

I know what it feels like to sense my life slipping away with the passing of each minute, hour, or day.  My joy, my hope running through my fingers as limited grains of sand held by my frail finite fingers.  What do I do with the season where there are more questions than answers?  Where I’m suffocating because of the pursuit of my way, what do I do?  I must recognize what brings life.  

 

I’m reminded of the backyard hose we as kids would drink from on those scorching summer days where we were “encouraged” to play outside.  If you were the unfortunate one to drink from the hose first, you experienced the taste of rubber lava. It wasn’t the water that was different on the front end, it was the hose that made the water less appealing.  The hose had sat in the piercing sun, looped around itself, openly exposed to the heat.  However, if you allowed the water to run for just a minute or two the water would change the environment of the hose.  The water dictated the temperature, not the hose.  

 

My way must allow the water of the Spirit in my life dictate the temperature.  However, that can only happen when I spend the time to let it run through me.  Through my heart, my mind, my soul with the purpose of exposing my way in exchange for His.  Recognizing that silence in my life is the product of my way crushing the beautiful sound of His way.  Its living in the knowledge of His righteousness verse the pursuit of my own.

                                                                                                                       January 31, 2023

The jaded heart is a deadly thing.  It taints the well of goodness and prevents us from seeing the character of God and the beauty of His creation both around us and in us.  The jaded heart is a sneaky thing.  It captures our affections like a slow burn creeps across the low lying grass of an open field.  It doesn't happen overnight and it rarely shows its plan for the future. It simply blinds the heart from seeing what is meant for our good and exchanges it for what is potentialy evil.  The jaded heart is wrapped in a hope that reveals itself as powerless, petty, and pushy.  It robes faith.  It robes joy and ultimately robs our strength.  Why? Because the joy of the Lord is our strength. And when our joy is robed our strength is the unfortunate recipient of those effects.

I've wrestled with a jaded heart in matters of the church and the people that make up the beautiful bride of Christ.  My jaded heart wasn't derived from a moment or a person, but a collective of the sort.  Over time I watched good intentions turn selfish and "goals" masked in vernacular of ministry.  I saw the industry of Christianity and the Christian Church become a machine that created with superb strokes of genius.  The problem was our strokes of genius pointed to the wrong artist.  They pointed to self, not the creator of self.  It drew people to a personality.  I drew people to an art form, not the ultimate Artist.  

But God has continued to show me that "the worshiping heart does not create its Object." A.W. Tozer points out in The Pursuit Of God, "that faith creates nothing. It simply reckons upon that which is already there."  See, my jaded heart wasn't the product of what had happened to me or of that which I had witnessed.  No, it was a product of what I chose to put my faith in.  I had found that I was more intent on following the visible verse the invisible that existed to draw my heart to its passions for me.  I was more content in believing there was God and yet, at the same time, failing to believe in Him.  The visible had become the enemy of the invisible and my heart was captured in a futile faith that couldn't stand in the midst of superb strokes of genius.  It crumbled. The journey of the jaded heart had begun.  

I was seeking the evidence of God in man.  My heart wasn't just jaded, it had become restless and my lens of seeking him had become skewed.  And when we can't see clearly we can't believe accurately.  Hebrews 11:6 states, "And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek Him."  The jaded heart misdirects the object of our faith.  And that heart can only be changed when our mind does.  Only when what I seek is Him not his blessing, not His favor and not my good.  When I want his presence, a conscience experience of His majesty, more than I want a result that gives me a cheap sense of satisfaction the jaded heart shatters. When I seek Him verses the desires of my heart, I recognize the spiritual, invisible strokes of His genius.  See the result of truly seeking Him is not simply the cure for the jaded heart, it's so much more. Seeking Him and His desires for my heart in turn realign my desires to His.  It's a beautiful thing to know that God's heart has never been jaded toward me.

                                                                                                                        January 5, 2016

It's been quite a while since my last post.  Four years to be exact and more life than I care to write about.  Today I find myself wrestling with the reality that I have an enemy that despises the King I worship, which in turn produces a hatred toward me.  Luke 4:13 points to an interesting truth that is easily missed at first glance.  After forty days in the wilderness and temptation from every angle, Jesus demonstrates the power of the written Word.  At each temptation he quotes scripture to address the attacks and lies of the enemy, but that is not what catches my attention as much as the final statement.

In verse thirteen of chapter four it says, "When the devil had finished every temptation, he left Him until an opportune time."  We get this idea that the devil tried and failed in the temptation of Christ, and that he gave up and when his own way. However, what scripture tells us here is that he's much more cunning and persistent to just give up.  He left Him until an opportune time.  He recognized that his future would provided moments of weakness and pain, moments of hurt and sorrow, in which the enemy would wait for.  We know that even at the cross the enemy tried to speak lies into the mind of Christ and at his weakest moment he stayed focused on His calling.

The question is, "What are the opportune times in my present future that the enemy is waiting for?"  I have to admit that if I'm attempting big things for the cause of Christ and I'm preaching the gospel, the redemptive story, to see lives transformed then the enemy is going to recognize the opportune times in my life to bring my world crashing down.  I recognize that with some this thought may produce fear or anxiety, but those emotions are not the emotions of the Holy Spirit in my life.  "For my God has not given me the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind."  No, my thought is focused on the opportune time.  What does opportune timing look like in my schedule?  What does it look like in my fatigue or my morally nurtural things that I give myself to: sports, recreation, friendships.  Things that are not bad in and of themselves, but things that produce a laziness in my life that cause my eyes to be taken off the written Word of God.

I write today to remind myself that an opportune time could be today.  An opportune time could be in one of my finest hours.  Today I take every thought captive.  I stand on the written Word.

Exhausted after three days of travel, yet I can't sleep.   It's 1:40 in the morning here in Zimbabwe  and I'm still running on adrenaline.  I'm fascinated by the culture and the graciousness of a marginalized people that have so little, but are willing to give so much.  I'm already wrestling with the thought that I came here to better understand how we could help, but I feel like they are helping me more by changing my paradigm as to how we see the world.

We spent the day driving through the city of Bulawayo and buying supplies for our trip to Tuloche later this morning.  We will leave early this morning as it will take us two and a half hours to arrive at a community with a hundred children that have stayed in this village since Sunday night once they heard of our coming.  These children of all ages have "slept in their clothes" as they call it to see us.  See, many of these orphans will travel a day by foot to worship with a church that provides a sponsorship through Horizon International for their education, food, clothing and clean water.  They have not returned to their caregivers in order to see us.  

Tonight may be the first time that a roster that has crowed all night long hasn't bothered me.  I found out today, as our host was showing us his garden, that the fifteen or so chickens that he is raising will be given to an orphan to have as their own food supply.  Each time I see how this community, even though separated by large distances, cares for one another it reminders me of Acts four as the church met one another's needs.  They are showing me how you can have a deep love for someone you may not meet for another few hours. It's truly humbling.

The joyous thing that I have had the privilege of seeing now on several different continents is that precious and impoverished people don't recognize their circumstances they way I see them.  They have a joy.  The smiles are abundant and the laughter can be heard so frequently that it's  contagious.  Their joy is not captured by the thought of more things or even more money.  They see life in a moment at a time.  Their not thinking about next month or even tomorrow for that matter, but they  have tremendous needs... Or do they?  

Lord help me this week to see through your eyes.  Help me to realize I'm not here to fix something or to solve a problem that only exists in my mind.  I want to better understand this joy unspeakable that wont go away when there's just enough time to live for today.  So I'll never have to worry what tomorrow will bring cause I'm counting on God.

                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                                         September 10, 2012

 As a father I have the privilege of playing some of the classic childhood games that I loved as a kid, now with my own children.  However, with my children they don't seem to work the same way.  See Carter, my son with Fragile X, never quite seems to grasp the concept of certain games.  Hide and Seek is his favorite game and he can play it for hours.  The difference lies in the way the game ends for him.  You see when I count and I go looking for him he gets too nervous to hide and whenever I get to close he jumps out and screams, "Here I am!"  Always with the same enthusiasm as the fifteen games before.

Throughout the course of Carters life he has shown me things that reveal the face and heart of God with great clarity.  Even in the midst of an innocent child-like game I see God's desire for me.  Each and every time I watch my son jump out of hiding to declare his presence I want to correct his understanding and help him play the game right, but I can't.  See Carter finds great joy in being found even if he is the one making certain that everyone knows where he is.  He doesn't like hiding.  His heart would burst if he thought someone left him behind or forgot him.  He wants to be known.

I wish I didn't like hiding so much.  Not like hiding in a game, but in life.  I totally get the garden scene where Adam and Eve hid from God.  That makes so much sense to me even if it was God they were hiding from.  I hide my sin like no one will find it.  I hide my emotions the same way.  As an extrovert most would say I'm pretty transparent, but that is only partly true.  I'm transparent with the safe stuff.  Even the edgy stuff that I promote as part of my past I will put out there for most to see, but not the real stuff that consumes me today.  You could say that I'm a pro at Hide and Seek, but the problem is I'm hiding the wrong things and failing to seek the one that heals.

 Now at first glance one might think both the writer and the writing here is a bit gloomy, but quite the contrary.  If you haven't followed my writing before you might miss the fact that I primarily only write when I see God moving in His Word while it converges with my life.  Isaiah 65:1 says, "I permitted Myself to be sought by those who did not ask for Me; I permitted Myself to be found by those who did not seek Me, I said, "Here am I, here am I," to a nation which did not call on My name."  Today I write because I recognize that God is allowing me to find Him even when I haven't been seeking Him.  Couching in my dark corner hoping the light will not reveal my heart is not an option any longer.  He found me.  He redeemed me.  He loves me and holds each and every part of my life regardless of how hard I try to hide.

                                                                                                                          July 23, 2012

What's the difference between hope and living hope?  1 Peter 1:3-9 speaks to the reality that my common day idea of hope is so inadequate.  In my family we hope the Bronco's will make it back to the Superbowl.  I hope my kids don't break something today.  I hope my lunch is better than yesterday.  I hope in a lot of things that really, at the end of the day, carry with them very little concern or consequence if they never come to fruition... except the Bronco's and the Superbowl of course. Living hope is a drastically different understanding when I speak of the hope I have in my Lord and Savior.

Regardless of the realities that overwhelm my life I understand something that changes my perspective that most of the world doesn't understand.  Today is not really about today.  See many of us wake up wondering about today and what difficulties we may face through out it, but what if I saw those difficulties as the very thing that made my future even sweeter?  What if the trials were only a measuring stick to determine the proof of my faith?  Peter talks about the proof of my faith resulting in a greater understanding of praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.  So if I understand this right it means that as my faith strengthens because of the trial then my understanding of his glory will be even greater.

So today, and the trials within it, really becomes about the testing of my faith so that my future may understand a greater depth of His presence and the joy inexpressible of knowing Him.  Understanding a living hope is a paradigm shift in our understanding of the word hope.  It transforms this word that communicates a mere desire for a desired outcome into a understanding that our hearts lock onto something as a pit bull does to a bone.  It's knowing that I don't let go of something until the moment of my choosing, not the worlds.  My hope is locked onto the fact that my King will be returning during or after this temporal stint in a world filled with suffering and pain.  That hope understands that when He does return there is an inheritance that will not pass away as a result of my faith in His salvation.

Father allow me to see the trials and difficulties as they are, trials for the purification of my faith.  Allow me to hold on to this living hope as dearly as life itself.  Thank you for allowing me to see that this journey is not about making my name famous, but yours.  Thank for loving me and allowing me to see the goodness of your character even in the midst of this fallen world.  I love you Father.