We’ve all done it. Maybe it’s the Sunday scaries, with a new work week looming on the horizon. Maybe it’s our family or the plans we’ve made for our weekends. Maybe our own personal workload between balancing a clean house, social lives, love interests, whatever it may be.

CANCELLED. That’s never a word you want to see next to your flight number at the airport. This past weekend, my husband and I flew up to New York to watch our friends get engaged. We flew in Friday night, hung out this weekend, and the plan was to fly back home Sunday night to be back in time for work on Monday morning. But clearly, we were in store for other plans.

Just put yourself in this story for a moment. This passage is found in Exodus 12, which is the passage where God gives Israel instructions on the first Passover. So imagine, for just a moment, that you have been a slave all your life. You’ve broken your back building cities and monuments to kings and people that have abused and mistreated you. This slavery has been going on for generations… well before you were born. At this point, there is no before. This role and existence is all you’ve ever known.

Sometimes, when I read scripture, I am so blown away by the deep and burning desires of people to praise God and glorify Him with all their being. That’s something that I know I grow complacent in at times, but I think with the way the world is in 2021, those deeper burnings to honor God become less and less genuine.

Last week, we began discussing the problem of taking our civil liberties for granted and how we have become privileged– expecting to have things that scripture never promises us, the idolatry and dormant faith that occurs when we try to live the Christian life dependent on our government, and constitutional freedoms. And though what we see today in America is not at all what the rest of the globe sees and cannot be compared to the sufferings of the early Church of Acts, the question we must ask ourselves is: what if it DID get to that point? What would that mean for the Church, and how would I pursue Christ through that?

This quarantine has added a lot more free time to most people’s daily life. Many have used it to start Tik-Tok accounts, start a new Netflix series, or maybe some have even learned how to cook. Whatever the case may be for you, you’ve probably added more ‘self-care’ into your routine. Whether it be taking luxurious baths, trying out new skincare products, or reading books that you’ve had on your shelf for months just waiting to be cracked open; you have probably been focusing on caring for yourself as much as possible during this uncertain time. While all of those things are great– and probably extremely necessary for your mental health right now– there’s one thing that I just want to encourage you guys in today: spiritual self-care.

Do you ever forget who you are? Before you know it minutes turn into hours, hours into days, and days into weeks, causing you to lose sight of your identity, and purpose, through Jesus Christ. That is a place that many of us have passed through before. You may also be someone who feels that you've never known who you are. You have just been wondering since you have been able to wonder. Maybe you have never found the “right” answer or the answer that gave you the most purpose. I feel that I can confidently say that most likely almost everyone has been in that place of wondering, and if you are a follower of the Lord than you have most likely forgotten even if it has been minutes rather than weeks.

I’m not sure how God speaks to you because it can be very individual. God speaks to me in color, brush strokes and paint. Let me explain. I am a bible journaler. I take what I am learning, what God is speaking to me about and document it. Sometimes in my bible, sometimes in a journal and sometimes it comes out in another way. By doing this when I look back I can see the woven thread so to speak. I can see the journey much clearer. This morning my daughter Megan asked me if I would like to be a guest writer for Soul Deep Devotions.

Yes, here we are again– with the woman at the well. I’m telling you, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head for the last two weeks. Every time I go to pray or worship, I begin at the same place, “Jesus, I drink from you right now.” And it’s so beautiful because it’s really that easy. We don’t have to beat the ground with our fist. We don’t have to thrash and prove our worship worthy of living water.

Hey Pops, I can’t help but praise you when I think back on my life. I can’t believe all the goodness you’ve poured out on me; I hold each signal of your great love for me against my heart and worship you. I didn’t deserve any of the kindness you’ve shown me. There have been so many days where I doubted that you were working; that I turned away because I was fickle and immature. There have been so many moments that I’ve doubted your will to come in and save me again and again and again.

As a youth leader, sometimes you think that the young adults you spend every Friday night with miss it. It’s easy to think that you’re not reaching them because they don’t always verbalize or visibly respond to the Jesus you’re always trying to pour into them. And then, sometimes, they come out with some amazing one-liner that makes you feel like the student and them the teacher.

Hey Pops, I want to be more constantly aware of you. For too long, I’ve let personal drama get in the way of consistently pursuing you. I’ve let people and situations distract me from what really matters: sitting at your feet and putting my mind on you. Forgive my short-sightedness. Forgive my selfish heart. Forgive my scattered focus and for allowing my attention to be stolen so easily.

How often do we limit our capacity to worship Jesus? Let me be more specific: how often do we categorize worship neatly into a box for Sunday morning church service or a special playlist on our phones? In all reality, worship goes much farther than ambient music or beautiful lyrics. Worship is a lifestyle. It is something that should be fully integrated into Christian life.

Hey Pops, All this season, I’ve felt so captured by this picture: a dusty, low-lit stable. Horses, maybe some cattle, all huddled in their stalls, making the occasional barnyard chatter. Somewhere in the room, a torch is burning, lighting up a little area and casting long shadows across the dirt floor and the stable walls.

Comparison: it’s something I struggled with BIG TIME in the early days of my relationship with Christ and the beginning of my ministry. “I don’t worship like so-and-so. How could God be calling me to be a worship leader?” “I don’t have the experience in youth ministry that he has, so I won’t be as useful in reaching them.” “I’m not as bold as her, so I’ll just stay back and let her tell those people about Jesus. She’ll be better at it anyway”

Hey, Pops, Today, I lay no petitions, no requests, and no pleas at your feet. For just a moment, I only want to sit in awe of you. Constantly, you beckon me to come close to your heart; you give me permission to intimately know you, to dive deeper into who you are. And constantly, I am distracted by the desires of my own heart. How many times have I passed up the opportunity to just be with you by filling up the time and space with my selfishness and my “needs?” How many times have I missed the opportunity to get to know more of you, because I wanted you to hear more of me?