If you've had a rough year (or life), take heart.

Because tomorrow isn't just any Friday.

It's guaranteed...

Good.

Tomorrow marks the most beguiling/ bewildering/ bewitching day in all of human history.

Ever met a control freak? They feverishly attempt to manage (or manipulate) circumstances and people in order to create a sense of order, safety, security… peace… for themselves. Control freaks are just regular people who resort to strategic domineering in an attempt to keep their own fears (big and small) at bay. 

Control freaks tend to be rigid, bossy, defensive, perfectionistic, moody, judgmental. We’ve all met a few, right?

Or maybe this description fits you. You’re the freak.

(Well… same.)

I’m a recovering control freak myself. 

What do you deserve?

Have you ever really thought about that? 

At any given time, you may think you deserve:

Answers.

An apology.

Appreciation.

A reward.

Respect.

Success.

A second chance. (Or maybe a seventh?)

But do you really deserve any of those things?

Horrific crimes are committed all over the world, day and night.

People hurt people (sometimes heinously), and the resulting trauma is real, lasting, devastating.* That's not what this chapter is about. This is not an attempt to dismiss or diminish anyone’s pain or suffering. Not at all. 

This is about identity. Who we are isn’t determined by the sum of our experiences. You and I, we are masterpieces. We were lovingly, purposefully, exquisitely created by a brilliant Designer (God). Our identity is not dictated by our experiences. It isn’t something that can be “added to” or “subtracted from” by the good or bad things that happen to us. 

Most people - when they turn to Jesus for hope, forgiveness, grace - expect the future (which is undoubtedly secure in His care) to be bright, beautiful, peaceful, wonderful… and it often is. But sometimes it isn’t. 

Because this ain’t heaven. 

(And God told us so.)

People produce trouble as surely as sparks fly upward. (Job 5:7, NCV)

For every person alive, trouble is a sure thing.

As unavoidable as thirst. 

Let’s start with the obvious. 

God is holy. 

I’m not. 

(Neither are you.)

Yes, we were made in God’s image, but - unlike God - we are flawed. We act selfishly, speak impulsively, make lousy decisions, lie/lust/lose our cool/lash out. The list goes on. And on.

I love you.

Three simple words… but what do they mean, really? If you ask a hundred people, it’s likely no two answers will be identical. 

It’s not really the words that mean so much to us; it’s the active “loving” that backs them up. And when the actions don’t back up the words, well, that’s when our hearts get hurt. (Or shattered.)

There’s a reason love inspires lyrics. Songwriters - like the rest of us - know that love is the main thing. The thing that makes life meaningful, beautiful. Full of wonder and comfort and joy. 

But what happens when we aren’t sure we’re loved? 

Or even lovable? 

The unthinkable. 

Remember that one time... when you did that?

No matter how firmly you've refused to look back, how far you've traveled, how long ago it was...

It still remains.

The stain.

The shame.

That god-awful pit in your stomach.

Losing.

Nobody likes it.

Sure, with experience we can learn to handle it with a little grace. But it still smarts.

The thing that really cuts deep (and often leaves a disfiguring scar) is the label.

Loser.

Ever feel like you're surrounded by people... and at the same time...

All alone?

Like your days are crammed with communication - texts, calls, emails, DMs - and yet, no one's really listening? 

Yeah.

Same.

The world's increasingly connected; but, somehow, we're drifting further and further apart. And you know what?

It’s dangerous.

Let’s start at the beginning. 

Yours.

Let’s go all the way back to the day you were born.

And then 40 weeks further (give or take).

Recently, a friend of mine remarked that she wasn't feeling like herself. I've heard that comment before, but this time it struck me as odd. I understand feeling "out of sorts" or "under the weather" or "down in the dumps." But I can't really comprehend not feeling like me. Unless I was given a chance to feel like Jane Austen (when she was completely and perfectly and incandescently happy). In that case, I might consider making the switch. For a day or two.

What about you? Do you feel like yourself? How so? Why not?

Or more pointedly...

Who do you think you are, anyway?

There are two catastrophic storms battering our neighborhoods and nation.

One is wreaking havoc with snow/sleet/subzero temperatures... and the other is using deadly force in a political firestorm.

A 37-year-old woman was tragically killed in Minneapolis yesterday.

And the lives of others there will never be the same again.

It’s the first night of Chanukah.

Christmas is days away.

And yet, the world doesn’t feel very merry or bright or full of light.

It feels dark and heavy and heartbreaking right now.

The holiday season has begun… and folks are scrambling to pack suitcases, fill refrigerators, prep for the annual Turkey Trot and place DraftKings bets for Thursday night football.

Maybe you’re one of those tender souls. The ones who went to church because they needed some answers. A soft place to land. Some long-elusive peace. Or the ones who went to make their momma happy. (God bless you.)

In case you haven’t noticed yet:

America the beautiful… isn’t.

(It’s not great again either, in my opinion.)

It’s getting uglier, scarier, darker and more dangerous by the day.

In the aftermath of another school shooting, I’m struggling to craft a single coherent sentence. And really, what is there to say? Sometimes – truly – there are no words.

Only anguish…

What’s going on???

I know, I know. A lot of bad, dark, scary stuff.

But lift your gaze a little higher…

Look up, child.

There’s something stirring.