“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.'”
I grew up in Southern California, in the suburbs north of San Diego. I remember being driven home from school, head lazily against the window, reading all the street names on their green signs–calle barcelona, corte papaya, represa, atadero, calle madero–but the one street name that always made me perk up was paseo avellano. It wasn’t my street, it wasn’t even the street that fed into my street, but it was the one after that. It was the street that reminded me I was almost home.
I started this blog for ‘Lydias’, for women who love God and honor Him in ambition and godliness in an environment that isn’t used to Christians. I saw so many ministries aimed at women who weren’t like me, women who were mild and soft, more at home, well, at home, than in a conference room. And I wanted to fill that void but as I began, I realized how much more God had to fill me. I wanted to be a beacon for Him, salt and light to a world that needed Him, and I rushed into it. Yet, after a year of hitting publish, none of my posts were geared towards that. All of them were–and continue to be–the ways that God was working in me, refining me, growing me. I’d tried to help others, and God gently reminded me that there was plenty of work inside of me.
So here I am.
Wrestling with verses I don’t understand, crying out to God when comparison gets the best of me, trying to figure out who I am in Him and why He decided that I should be as I am. Praying this verse when I don’t have the words, claiming His steadfast love, His new mercies, His great faithfulness. He is my hope and portion.
If you’re here, then maybe you’re in a similar place. Maybe you can quote the right verses, lead the right prayers, and you’re wondering if anybody can see that you’re not all you’re trying so hard to be. Maybe you see yourself as a list of things that you’re not, maybe you think your life is a checklist with a lot of empty boxes. Maybe you feel alone, in a new place or old, maybe you’re wishing you had a mission or ministry like so many around you. If that’s you, I so empathize…but I can’t fix it. Because that’s me, and every time I try to put the pieces together on my own, I end up broken, and worse than before. What I can do is point you to Someone who not only knows the ins and outs of your heart, but Who created them. Jesus knows the deepest parts of you–the dreams you don’t dare share with anyone, the shame you’re too afraid someone else will discover–and He loves you bigger than both of them. He is so so good to us, better than we can hope and better than we deserve, and even better still. I hope these pages remind you of that, remind you of who He is, and how close you are to being home.