Trees and Sad Nights.

 Trees are something I have always really been captivated by. I'm not totally sure why. Partly because they stand as a testament to how small we really are. Some stand 150 years old or older. I think I also really love them because they speak to me about my future; they cast a vision.

Someday, I want to be like this tree. Rooted, established, committed to a place, firm, and unwavering.

Col 2:6-7 "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." 

But you know what? I'm not. Not yet, anyway. I'm learning and I'm on a course there-but I have a long ways to go.

Ever have nights like mine tonight? Where you see where you are called to be, you are falling so short, you are fighting the lies, and the only way you can keep going is to hold on to the one thing you can't really hear or see; Jesus.

 2 Corinthians 4:18 "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary but what is unseen is eternal."
Hebrews 11:1 "Being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

That's me tonight. And I won't lie, it's a rough night. Nights like tonight mean sitting down in my bed, in the secret place no one really ever will know about...and hashing it out with Him. Hashing it out until my heart calms down, until my spirit has peace. Hashing it out until I cry, until I trust a little more, until my mind is renewed.

Because you see...He will finish what He started. He doesn't begin a good work unless He plans on finishing it to completion. And even though sometimes I know that, right now I'm a little sad. So I'm going to let Him tell me again the two questions that are burning on my heart, "What do you really feel about me?" and "What were you thinking when you made me?".  Because ultimately, all of this comes down to my identity in Him and me trusting in Him. I'm going to let Him teach me how to love and be loved.

I'm not that tree yet, but I am a promise. I am a sprout, or maybe even a baby sappling. And sometimes it feels like desert is all around me. But, He is there. And He is faithful.