He doesn’t comment on my photos telling me how “gorgeous” or “hot” I am to him, and I don’t get the “I love you too, baby’s” whenever I post something admiring him.
We played phone tag for hours and then he texted me a text I hope no one ever has to receive from someone they love and miss: “Still not working. Phone’s going to die. If this goes through, I love you.”
He’s the key to knowledge. He’s the wellspring of wisdom. He’s the doorway of deliverance. He’s the pathway of peace. He’s the roadway of righteousness. He’s the highway of holiness. He’s the gateway of glory. THAT'S MY KING!
"You cannot save yourself. Your family cannot save you, nor your friends. They will let you down. Remember that the next time you lash out. No one can fix you, and you can’t fix anyone. Only Jesus."
Jesus sees you struggling under the weight of your love-bound load and beckons, "Bring me your children's burdens and your own, too. Give me what you're carrying. Find rest for your soul.
How could I possibly know our biggest struggle? Because I’ve heard the same universal thread whispered by pastors’ wives, and prodigal daughters, and everyone in between.
Why are we missing it? Why are we so focused on ourselves that even in times where we should be consumed by nothing but awestruck wonder, we miss the wonder altogether and instead replace it with the cheap thrill of another self-glorifying photo?
Jesus whispers to our doubt and struggle, “I won’t rescue you because this kind of struggle leads to deep roots, community with others, and legacy of overcoming…”
