I know I’ve done something that’s really something that God has wanted for me to do, but there’s a part of me that’s feeling a bit of pain because of that. I know that it’s really according to His will, and, given the chance to do it over again, I would do the exact same thing, but it still doesn’t prevent my heart from twinging - even for just a little bit.

All I know is, these people who have been harmed, who have been hurt, and who have and still are suffering have loved ones, as we all do.

Misfortunes appear to occur by mere twists of faith. What if that were me? What if that’s my son, daughter, cousin, brother, sister, mother, father, uncle, boyfriend, best friend who was there?

What if I was?

It sounds like a selfish thing, but you know, history is “his/her story.” It’s a personal narration of how a person experienced an event. Yet I’m not really concerned for my sake, but for those who’ve lost and have hurt.

Dear Lord, I thank You for the survivors, for giving them a new chance at life.

I pray for the victims of the shooting, that they might be brought in Your arms. I pray for their families, that they might find healing and forgiveness.

Lord, I know that this is not a product of Your Will. You are good and perfect, and this is an anomaly of what You want for us. 

Lord, I pray for everyone in the world. Seal us with Your blood, and protect us from the snares of the enemy. Let everyone come to know You, Lord, in the truest sense of the word. Just keep us in You all the time.

We pray all these in Your most precious and mighty name. Amen.

The days prior to Easter have been difficult, I kid you not. This has been one of the hardest years I’ve had because it’s really been one major test after the other. I would love to say I passed them all, and with flying colors, but the sad truth is that I didn’t. I haven’t kept the faith a lot of times, and I could blame a million, 500 things for that, but ultimately, it’s because I’m the one who kept on tripping.

Yet that’s also one reason why we celebrate Lent and Easter, right? To remember that Someone loved us so much that even if we trip, stumble, fall flat on our faces, we’ll be picked up once again. I watched “The Passion of the Christ” over the break, and I was struck again how much different we are from God. From the cheering community that we are celebrated His arrival in the city with cheers and waving of palm fronds, we become the spitting, snarling, jeering crowd who mocked His way to Golgotha and the Cross. You see, we can’t really blame Pontius Pilate for allowing His crucifixion to happen: it was us who put Him there. His blood is in our hands. Yet He does not condemn us for that. On the contrary, the reason why Jesus died on the Cross is for us to not be condemned. In that single act of sacrifice, He cleansed us of our sins by taking all of these as His own. He definitely felt physical pain: imagine being scourged and speared and whipped so badly that you resemble nothing more than hamburger meat. What probably hurt him the most, however, was the pain of taking up ALL our sins. He who was pure and holy became tarnished with all of what we’ve done. Imagine a pure white sheet not only being spattered by a few flecks of mud, but completely immersed in that. That’s what happened to Him, and it’s all because of His love for us.

We didn’t really get as far away from the city as I would have wanted (probably a 30 minute/one-hour drive was all that was needed), but it’s still great to be separate from the hustle, bustle, and noise that surrounds us just about everyday.

The Lord’s really been amazing, because He not only gave me rest during that time, but He’s also revealed more of Himself to me, and for that, I can be thankful.

John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that whosoever believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life.” I still can’t believe how any facets of love there are. The love of a parent to a child, of a lover to his/her significant other, of a wife to her husband, the one between friends, and yet God’s love encompasses and surpasses all that. Ours might be imperfect, but His isn’t. Maybe His love overflows to us so we can also love people (or objects, places), but that’s only a small fraction of how much He can give us. The thought is staggering. How can someone who is so perfect, so pure, so holy, choose to love those who are so deprived and filthy? It’s not possible, but for Him it is. It’s hard to put into words how amazing, how loving, how beautiful God is, but He’s not really interested in words anyway. He’s interested in our hearts and in our souls, and if we just choose to follow Him with everything that we are, and say “I love You, Lord. You’re the only One that I will ever need or want,” then He’ll show us more of His wonder.

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Anyway, I wasn’t able to take a lot of pictures during that retreat because my camera batteries are acting up. I’ve got some stills, though, and they’re ok, I guess. I’ll try to post them as soon as I transfer them to my laptop. For those who know me, you’re all aware of my fascination with scenery, so I always end up having pictures of trees, flowers, mountains, the sky, and everything else… except people. Haha! Sorry about that.