God can't resurrect something if you're keeping it on life support.

Does the title seem harsh? Tell me about it.

You can imagine how taken aback I was when God told me that a year or so ago. And since then, it's kind of been the motto of my year. I usually say it a bit nicer though: In order to see the beauty of the resurrection you need to allow the discomfort of the dying.

The fact of the matter is the last few years have been lowkey brutal. I know this to be true for me and my friends, and even if you wouldn't say this as a blanket statement for your life, we all live through some pretty brutal moments.

There's been a lot of loss: friendships, ministries and even just the loss of the way things were - or the way things should've been (that one stings a bit). And I realized that sometimes I was almost trying to help God out by keeping some stitutions on proverbial life support, if you will. Like, if I just tried hard enough to fight to keep things alive or afloat, then my tight grip of control would actually look more like hope, no? Because giving up must equal not believeing God can fix things, right?

It took some time, but the revelation finally came: trying to keep something alive out of fear of losing it actually means that I don't think that God is good. A mindset that I'm trying to unlearn is "but what if this is as good as it gets?" It's like I've never read my Bible and seen the countless stories and proof of how God's way is always better (not to mention my own experience), and then that things that he has in store are always better than what we've already seen.

Maybe our immitation "hope" is actually dead weight laying in the doorway, barely breathing and blocking the way of something new from entering. And maybe real Hope is staring straight in the face of something that has been decalred "gone" and having the audacity to believe God can bring life in the most desolate places.

I guess this blog is somewhat of a practical application of all of this. Not only has this site been laid to rest for a couple years, but the concept of writing for the sake of writing was also something that I allowed to die. Responsibilites, priorities, lack of passion - you name it, and there was a reason why it wasn't the time for it. And you know what, maybe it wasn't the time. And that's okay. But now I find myself standing in front of a valley of dry bones (with writing and many other things) and I hear the Holy Spirit asking "can these bones live?"

And I'm going to answer yes and be full of hope that God will bring new life.

I don't know what you're going through, but I do know that I don't want the fear of disappointment to stop you from expecting God to resurrect the dead things in your life. I can guarentee that they will not look the same nor will it probably happen the way that you thought it would, but I can also guarentee that the beauty of resurrection far outweighs the discomfort of the dying.

[ If you want to go a bit deeper in this with God, try reading Ezekiel 37 (the Valley of Dry Bones) and Luke 11 (Lazarus raised from the dead) ]