Stronger than what I can carry.

I wrote a song yesterday.

With all the beauty of this weekend (a great photo shoot on Saturday, silhouetted by a ridiculously gorgeous sunset), my creative juices seemed to be flowing. I don't write a lot, but when I do, it's generally an emotional and spiritual experience.

The first part of the song I came up with is this bridge:

Your love is better than all I could ever want
Your love is stronger than all I could ever carry

It hit me after I sang out that second line what a miraculous reality that is.

I can't carry being unemployed. It's scary and makes me feel like a failure.
I can't carry the pain of the difficulties my body has conceiving children. I believe God has said we will conceive, but that doesn't make this waiting game any less horrible.
I can't carry the load of being entrusted with the deep stories of an individual, knowing they have trusted me to share it in a way that is respectful and meaningful.

And yet, though all of these burdens are more than I should be able to bear, the love of my Father carries them for me. He has not allowed me to hold onto them by myself.

If you are holding onto something too much for you today, know that God has promised to be the one carrying that load. Even when it seems impossible - no, especially when it seems impossible, He is right there to be your strength.

Look at this sunset. Keep your chin up. And rely on Him to be the One keeping you strong.

She was home for Christmas.

My Christmas Eve was rather unorthodox this year.

As a pastor's kid, I've traveled to the hospital with my dad on many occasions. Sometimes, it was after routine procedures or minor scares that turned into nothing. On other days, I joined him as we said goodbye to a life. Christmas eve was one such day.

Spartanburg 1st Church of the Nazarene, my father's church, plays a large part in their marginalized community by inviting residents of local residence homes for adults who are unable to live completely on their own. These folks are unable to offer much in the way of financial support or leadership, but they offer something much greater - a chance to love without ever expecting anything in return. One such lady was named Brenda.

So many of us complain about the most trivial things. "My phone doesn't work fast enough." "I wish my 2,000 square foot house had 8,000 square feet." "I don't understand why I can't look like a model." Brenda had no traditional legacy to her name, no beach body to claim, no career to speak of; and yet, she loved unashamedly. She was always a sweet, kind soul, ready to offer a hug and a smile to anyone willing to receive.

The above photo is from a Christmas party held at my parents house in 2012. Brenda and the other residents came over to share in some desserts and fellowship. One of them said they'd never been invited to a party before - something that for most of us seems commonplace. 

In 2013, Brenda suffered a massive heart attack the Friday before Christmas. Her family could not be reached to be called in when she would be taken off the life support keeping her body alive - the only communication anyone had recently received was the week before her heart attack, when her son called to say he would be traveling to town to buy her the pair of boots she had wanted for so long. But no one could find him or any of her other children to tell them what had happened.

This brings us to Christmas Eve. The doctors had chosen to remove her life support that day, so she wouldn't have to suffer during Christmas. She had been pronounced brain-dead and would not regain consciousness again.

My family (father, mother, and brother) and I drove to the hospital before lunch. There, we met Travis and Melody, a married couple who have played a large part in the outreach to homes like Brenda's. A few other church members who cared very much for her were regrettably absent due to work schedules.

Right before we walked into the hospital room, my dad looked at me to ask if I would be able to sing something as she took her last breaths. Everyone else had already started to cry, so I was the only one left who would be able to start a song. The nurses turned off all the machines and displays and left us in the room to say goodbye. So we sang It Is Well With My Soul.

We joined together in song, tearfully, sniffling, and a little out of tune. Brenda coded as soon as support was removed, and went peacefully into eternity. My mother commented later that rather than tears, our response could consist of rejoicing - Brenda was the only one of us in that room who would spend Christmas with Jesus. While our song wouldn't earn us a grammy, and the 'performance' was anything but perfect, it was a flawless way to say our farewells to a woman who would remain forever in our hearts.

My life has always been far more blessed by those people who were willing to love without expectations. Brenda became our family, not because she wanted us to give her things, and not because we thought there was ever anything tangible she could provide for us, but because we are all children of God, seeking one purpose - to know Jesus more. She had a beautiful soul, and will be missed by those who knew her.

Merry Christmas, Brenda. You gave me a more amazing gift than all the ones wrapped beneath our tree, and I will never forget.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Heaviness and Hope.

I have a project on which I'm working, launching Spring 2014, called "Capture Hope."

[I get that this blog is titled "Capturing Hope." This is my personal storytelling of sorts, while "Capture Hope" will consist of other people's stories.]

I'll tell the story of it later, but first I want to share a small part of the first interview I conducted for the project.

I listened to my friend recount her life story - literally, from before birth until now. And it was one of the most devastating, horrifying stories of child abuse I have ever heard. I don't know that I've ever known someone (or been aware of it) that spent the first 18 years of her life being systematically tortured and abused by the people who brought her into the world - the people who are supposed to care the most. It all happened within less than a mile from where we sat to have dinner.

This is why stories are important.

People can relate to details. They can relate to the pieces of the story so rich in color that it's not hard to close your eyes and see it, taste it, smell it for yourself. And when they are in the story with you, it's much easier for them to understand and sympathize with your cause, or your heart, or your passions.

In 16 hours, I heard that story and two other brief retellings of completely unrelated instances of domestic violence that also ripped apart families. My heart is so heavy with sadness for the children, the innocents in these stories. Children, and their innocence, are one of the most beautiful and pure parts of life... To destroy that innocence and rip away a childhood is abhorrent, even evil.

But it is today that I can gladly announce to you all that, regardless of current circumstances, there is always hope!

God works all things together for our good. I do not necessarily believe that "all things happen for a reason." If all things happened for a reason, that indicates God is the one always making them happen, which points to a very vicious and vindictive deity. However, He does promise that He works all things together for good to those who love Him. Violence, evil, and hatred exist because of the presence of sin in our world. The beautiful part about that is that when we hand it all over to Christ and tell Him to take control, He uses all the dirty, dark, and sad stories for a holy purpose.

The friend I interviewed last night now operates an organization to spread awareness about child abuse and give children opportunities and tools to report abuse and be helped. Throughout her story, the one theme that continued to recur was, "Everyone knew, and no one said a word." Today, she makes sure that people talk about it, and that children are given everything they need to stop the cycles of violence from which no one rescued her.

It was a scary story - but it has a happy ending. We serve a God who loves us SO much that He endured the very worst suffering, the most terrible of fates, all for us to have an opportunity for life abundantly. If you're feeling alone, or perhaps that no one understands, remember that there is always One Who knows every ounce of sorrow, Who feels every drop of pain, and Who is with you in the darkest night. And He shines as bright as day.

- R

I Am.

He sure is.
God is wrecking me right now with the realization of who He really is. The promises He has given us, and the beautiful plans he's put together for anyone who will grab on and run with them.
Since my last post, my life has been topsy-turvy in the best of ways. I am learning more and more every day about what it means to truly walk with Jesus each day. My marriage is restored. I thought that could never happen, but not only am I staying in a marriage because I know it's what I should do, I am now there because I want to be! I love going home to my husband every day, and I miss him when he's away.
I love the Word of God. It's something I always had a hard time engaging with, and now I am excited to soak in His desires and will and heart.
And I'm beginning to grasp how urgently He wants people to seek Him. My heart for the lost has been transformed and I can't wait to tell people about what God is doing in my life.

This isn't meant to be a long explanation of the specific lessons God is teaching me. I'm going to be writing more often because it's such a great way to share life with people, even the ones that aren't right next to me. However, I wanted to encourage you today that God deeply cares for you and desires that you chase His heart with all you have.
And it's worth it. It's 100% worth it.

- Rebekah

The intense love of the Father.

I had a very interesting weekend.

This weekend, I obsessed over some issues in my life that I spend a lot of time trying to suppress. Whether it was due to the amount of time I spent just thinking, my location, or any other extraneous factors, I don't know.

What I do know is that I thought I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown twice within the last 24 hours.

If you know me well at all, you're probably aware of the fact I am an emotional human being. Yes, we're all emotional. But I let emotions dictate a lot of my life. I know it's not always a good tactic for life, but, unfortunately, it seems to be how I am wired.

Over the last few weeks, a great deal has happened in my life in the area of spiritual growth. God has been speaking to me a lot about me.

You see, there are a lot of lies about myself I've let myself believe over the past several years.

As a kid, I was sexually abused by someone I trusted. As a teenager, I was treated really poorly by my fair share of men. As an adult, I've made some stupid decisions trying to "find myself." In addition to that (and probably sometimes related), I have been treated as though I am a prostitute (and once actually offered money for sex). My entire life has been a series of dysfunctional sexuality, and while these issues did not always consume me, they have affected the way I think of myself.

I feel dirty.

I feel used.

I feel like damaged goods.

I feel embarrassed.

I feel despicable.

I feel dysfunctional and as though I am wired wrong.

I happen to be the only person who hears the thoughts in my head, and because I know what I'm thinking, I know what a crappy person I seem to be.

Back to this weekend - I had a lot of time to dwell on the way this is affecting my life today, and I started to freak out.

I started to feel hopeless.

I started to feel trapped.

I started to feel like giving up.

And then, because He is so good, my Dad upstairs reminded me that He loves me way too much for that.

He loves me so much that He is determined for me to understand how He truly sees me.

He sees me as clean.

He sees me as perfect.

He sees me as beautiful.

He sees me, and He is ravished by me.

I can't ever make Him love me more, and I can't ever make Him love me less. His love is unconditional, always, 100% of the time.

I watched a video on YouTube today that reminded me of this. A few months back, a friend sent me a link to the video. I vividly remember bawling at my desk at work as I realized how the words spoken are so true: "He loves you, because He loves you, because He loves you, because He loves you, because He loves you..."

The God we serve is a God of restoration. He desires to restore my purity. He desires to restore my thoughts. He desires to restore my relationships. He desires to restore my self-image.

He desires to restore ALL OF ME.

Because He loves me.

And that will always be enough.

So Blessed.

I never thought a trip out of the country could make me resent America and adore it so much, all at one time.

Last month, I spent 17 days in China. If you were born yesterday or live under a rock - China is a communist country in Asia with the largest population of any country in the world. As a communist country, China imposes many regulations on religion and the personal lives of its citizens. Many of these were put in place, at least in part, in response to the booming population. These laws include the one-child law that says that women in China (with the exception of those in minority groups) may only bear one child.

In addition to the laws in a country much different from mine, I was culture shocked by vastly different food, cultural habits, and a language barrier that is, at times, only a nuisance, while at other times, it creates a virtual impossibility when trying to accomplish anything.

After two weeks, here are some of the things I realized:

• I love real Chinese food. Not the imitation nonsense they sell in the States, but honest-to-goodness Chinese food. It is tastier and, in many ways, healthier than the typical American diet. (I lost 8 pounds!)
• I have always underestimated my ability to walk long distances. We calculated a rough estimate of the miles we'd walked together over the 17 days - we came up with somewhere around 50 miles. (I only lost 8 pounds?!)
• The fact that I, as an American citizen, can walk into any church in the United States of America without having to show ID or fear any type of retribution is a blessing that literally billions of people may never, EVER experience. To take that for granted is a bit of a slap in the face to... well, lots of people, and God. (Guilty!)
• I adore American standards of hygiene. Like, a lot.
• Adoption is one of the most awesome things in the world. Ever.
• My life is superbly awesome. In basically every way. And that, too, is a breathtakingly rare blessing.

And now, let the earth resound with praise

For our Savior, God, He reigns

He is high and lifted up

Arise, for the King of Glory waits

He is coming back again,
He is coming back again!

Pure Religion.

"Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world." 
- James 1:27 KJV

Tonight, I was given the pleasure of singing for a young adult service at GoodNaz called 702. I've participated in leading worship there before, and although it's not my home church, I greatly enjoy working with my friend Greg (who is the worship leader for 702) and chatting with Pastor Daryl (the lead pastor at GoodNaz).

This particular evening was different than the typical 702 service. Instead of a few songs and a message, we had a few songs, read a scripture passage, and then went out to visit a widow.

Yep. A widow.

My first thought was how unusual this was as a way to spend a young adult service.

My second thought was how awesome this was as a way to spend a young adult service.

So, we all drove in a little caravan to visit Shirley, a 75-year-old congregant at GoodNaz who recently lost her husband of 57 years. As we sat in her living room, asking questions about losing her husband and about their relationship that had lasted for so long, I was overwhelmed by how meaningful this action was.

How often do we actually take the time to care for the widows and orphans?

Pastor Daryl asked us as we sat there why we thought widows and orphans were singled out in the Word as those for whom we should care, and why this particular action was considered "pure religion."

At that point, it occurred to me that it was quite possible the reason for this is that, by definition, widows and orphans don't have the support structure surrounding them that the rest of us may. Yes, we may have parents that drive us crazy or a husband that forgets things like it's his job (and I say that with a smile, don't worry), but there is still a support around us. But Shirley said the hardest parts of losing her husband were just missing him in general, and then having to be alone so much. 

How difficult would it be for me to connect with some older widows in my church, and offer to come around once in a while to read to them? To do their dishes? To reminisce? To gain wisdom? To fix their computer? 

One thing is for sure - the verse in James 1 is rather clear. There's not much to misconstrue or twist to fit an agenda. It's just simple - take care of the widows and orphans, and don't be defiled by the world.

It seems to me that the two go hand in hand - taking care of those who need it goes directly against the selfish lifestyles that many of us (yes, even those who call ourselves Christians) tend to lead, in our flesh.

It means nothing if we just sit around talking about it. Let's take some action.

In the middle.

I visited some old friends today.

My last full-time job, at a place called SmileMakers, was one of the biggest blessings of my life. I made forever friends there, including a boss whose number will probably always be on my speed dial.

I go back to visit as often as I can (which isn't much), and was pleasantly surprised to see the new renovations on the building. It looks completely different, a fantastic modern office that was obviously very wisely designed.

I was almost in tears to see the place. I remember working there when everyone was cramped into tiny little spaces and storage was basically unheard of. Seeing the updates made me so happy for all my friends who still work there, and I was thrilled to know they now had the space and comfort they deserved all along.

As different as the renovations make the building look, the basics are the same. Everything is relatively similar to the way it was before, at least as far as operations are concerned. I'm sure the specifics are much different, but not from the surface.

Every time I visit home, I am reminded of when my life felt less hectic. Yes, work was often crazy and there weren't a lot of 'slow' days, but when I left work, I left work (for real). I spent most evenings with my parents and husband, and went to church two or three times a week. I desperately missed that for the two hours I visited my old job today. I actually remember feeling, after I suddenly lost my position as worship pastor at Estill Springs last year, that I would have given anything to just move into my parents' house and beg my old boss for a job again. That only lasted a few weeks, but the simplicity of it is something I catch myself craving on a semi-regular basis.

Now, between two jobs, a small photography business, school, church, our young adult group, and the other various things in which I am involved, I barely get home before 10 PM on any night. On top of that, we live a minimum of 25 minutes away from everything, including work, school, church, and all our friends. My life feels so hectic, and I am ready to have a few less things to do. In addition to that, I'm still trying to raise money for a school trip to Asia in May, right after graduation.

I've felt for several months like I'm just in the middle of things. I'm neither here nor there - not quite a graduate, but not a full-time student... not a full-time employee, but not satisfied working part-time... not a main worship leader anywhere, but one of many in the various places I call spiritual homes. I am a practical person, and I don't like feeling so in the middle - I want to feel stable. I'm going home in two days, and walking right back into all of that.

However, I was reminded yesterday of one of my favorite passages of Scripture. It's the one I lean on when I start to feel overwhelmed, and thinking about it right now is starting to make my eyes water.

It is so magnificent to know that when my life feels so inconsistent, my Savior never is. When my heart feels so torn in two because I want to be in two places at once, my Jesus knows exactly what is best for me and where He wants me. When my soul yearns for simplicity, my Lord provides a time of rest.

I'm so blessed by the people in my life. I'm so blessed by my family. I'm so blessed by all the things God has put right in front of me. So...

"This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope: It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness! The Lord is my portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him."
- Lamentations 3:21-25