Jesus Washes Our Feet

I was reading the passages in Scripture where Jesus had the Passover with the disciples and then was given over to be crucified. My heart broke all throughout these passges. I wept and grieved at mentally seeing the sight of my Jesus washing my feet and taking my punishment.

You have probably heard a dozen sermons on the washing of the disciples' feet, I know I have, but it hit me anew today. He knew that Judas was going to betray Him. He knew Judas was already plotting his death, yet He took the form of a servant and washed His betrayer's feet.

I can picture the whole senario in my head. Jesus takes off his outer robe. The disciples are lined up, standing in shock at what Jesus is choosing to do. He has a bowl of pure water and a towel, ready to clean their feet. This is a servant's job. This is not a very renowned task. Not one that people would boast about. Instead, it is a job that no one has the desire to do. One by one, Jesus takes the feet of His disciples. He knows their hearts. He knows the sin lurking in the corners. He knows that one in particular will betray Him to His death. Yet, I can see Jesus washing each of their feet, making sure each foot is free of any and all dirt. Completely clean. And because I know of Jesus' character, I can say with confidence that He didn't leave a speck of dirt on Judas' feet. He cleaned them thuroughly, even though He knew he was going to betray Him.

I bawled. My tears were streaming down my face as I thought of this. I can picture myself in Judas' place. Jesus is cleaning my dirty, digusting, abominable feet. He's wiping away my sin as easily as if it were dirt. My Lord is serving me by purifying me of my sin. All my sin, He is washing clean. Tears were streaming down my face as I thought of such a sight. My Lord. My Holy God, is washing me new, even though He knows that I will mess up again. Even though He knows I will sin and displease Him. He chooses to clean the grime away -Of His own free will so that He may gain the glory.

What a wretched soul I am. I need Him so dearly. Lord may You be glorified!

Please, Lord

She lies down in bed. The lights are off. The streetlamp from the road outside her window casts an orange glow on the otherwise dark room. The fan is whisking around in dizzying circles. Her wet hair dampens the red checkered pillow case on which she rests. Everything is ready for hibernation... except for her.

She's awake. Her eyes are open, not looking at anything in particular, and she prays.

God, when will I meet him? When will I finally get to meet the one whom you have chosen specifically for me? Do I know him? Surely not. What will he be like? His personality? His sense of humor? What's happened in his life? What has shaped him into who he is? God, do You even have a husband for me? Please, Lord... please, say yes.

Tears have been a constant companion. OBU is swarming with couples -married and dating. I'm surrounded by mirrors that point out that I am single. God, I know You've told me to be content in You alone. I have been. From my knowledge, I have not seen anyone who You would desire me to be with. I understand that; therefore, I'm okay with being single. I just want some reassurance that You do have someone out there for me. Someone that loves You more than he could ever love me. Someone to share a life yearning for Jesus with. Someone to proclaim Your glory with.

Please, Lord.... please, say yes.

I have been memorizing and reciting Psalm 62:1-2. "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken." I keep on trying to remind myself of Your providence. I keep a constant weight on the promises Your Word holds. May I never stray from Your Word. It is my food. My spiritual food.

Lord, there are times when I feel so alone. I know You are there. I know You see me when I cry, when I'm exhausted from school, when I just want to roll up in a ball and pull the covers over my head and never see the light of day again. You see all. Everything. You know my heart. You know my desires. You know my emotions. Lord, let me be so filled with Your love. Let my cup runneth over.

Please, Lord... please.

If now is not the time that I should meet him or know him, please, Lord, ready us for each other. Prepare me spiritually to meet and get to know him and may You do the same for him. Keep us from sin. Keep us from falling away from reading and studying Your Word. Help us learn who Your are and what You require of us. I praise You that there will never come a time where we will know You completely. Let us strive to know You deeper and love You more passionately!

Bless him deeply, Lord God. Bless him with Your love, for Your love is the only thing that can suffice.

As tears fall from her eyes to make another damp spot on her pillow, she sighs in comfort of knowing that the Lord is still God. He is still in control. He understands all of her worries and emotions. He is Lord of all.

Her eyes flutter to a close as sleep claims her, and right before she succumbs to unconsciousness, she swears she feels two arms hold her close, just like her dad used to do when she was little.

Please, Lord.

Of Pumpkins and Good News

Note: this is a paper I wrote for my Advanced Composition class and I thought I would share. I realize that it is closer to Christmas than Halloween, but I had this and I thought I would update anyways.

The scent of spice cake wafting in the air. The dead leaves crunching underneath boots. Carved Jack O’Lanterns casting shadowy images on the porch. The taste of hot apple cider on the tongue. All of this could only mean one thing: Autumn is here and along with it comes the well-known holiday, Halloween. October 31st has a variety of meanings for many different people. To some, it can remind them of times they had fun dressing up as a child in elaborate costumes and getting a huge bag of candy at the end of the night; for others, however, it could have a more negative meaning.

Many people –Christians in particular –do not celebrate Halloween because it was founded in a Celtic pagan background that included human and animal sacrifices as well as the invoking of the spirits. That being said, many Christian families tend to stay in doors on the last day of October, turn out the porch light, and wait out the crowds of masked children asking for candy. But the question can be asked: “What is the ‘Christian’ thing to do concerning Halloween?” Many people would say that being in doors and not participating in the event at all would be the most “Christian” way to go about dealing with it. Others would say that the pagan traditions are not in direct influence today with going door-to-door asking, “Trick-or-Treat,” so what does it hurt participating in it?

As a Christ follower, I desire to tell others (stranger or friend) about Jesus and what He has done to change my life. If you consider Halloween from a missional and evangelistic view point, it’s always the believers going to the nonbelievers and sharing the love of God with others. For 364 days of the year, we –missionaries and other Christ followers –will say that we are always the ones going out and reaching out to people in order to further the Kingdom, but when it comes to that one day, October 31st, we clam up and hide behind our locked doors with our porch light turned off, no candy bucket waiting to be ravaged by little hands, and no carved pumpkin waiting to greet the masquerading children at the front door. But, the one day that people –namely children –come up and knock on our door is the day we yell, “No thanks! Go away! We don’t want to have anything to do with you sinners!” Does this represent the love of Jesus at all?

I’ve heard it said that Christians are not Christians on Halloween. Not because they compromise and participate, but precisely because they don’t participate at all. It’s the one day that people actually come to us, yet we turn them away with a dark porch and a locked door! Soak that in for a second. Chew on it. Relate it to your life and your actions. Imagine Jesus as a 21st century man. Imagine that it was October 31st, All Hallows Eve, and Jesus was caught right in the middle of it. Do you see Him going in His house, locking the door and turning off His porch light, or do you see Him opening the door with a smile on His face, seeing little children eager for company and yummy treats? I don’t know about you, but I see Him as the one giving out the best candy on the block, and doling out caring smiles with His front porch light brightly lit, eager to talk to anyone who wants to hear. After all, He said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14).

But you say, “By participating in Halloween, you are encouraging children to take part in witchcraft, satanic worship and the occult. So lock your doors and don’t answer when they ring the doorbell!” First of all, do you personally know any children, ages three through twelve, who are actively seeking out things of the occult? Do you think children will walk around in a ghost costume saying, “Oh, dressing up as a ghost tempts me to worship Satan,” –No! In all reality, most of these children are worried about filling their buckets till they’re overflowing with candy, rather than dabbling in satanic worship.

In my personal experience, I have pretty much grown up not participating in Halloween at all. I was made aware of the origin of Halloween and the evil events that were said to have occurred on that night at a young age. As I grew up, I was curious as to why we didn’t celebrate, but I never questioned why my parents kept us from dressing up and going out; I respected their decision. However, now that I am older and have also grown in Christ and understand fully why they chose not to celebrate Halloween, I am beginning to wonder if all we have ever done is shut people out. I find myself wondering if have actually gone against the Great Commission and not accepted people in to my house.

Halloween is such a touchy subject at times, but I believe that it can be a huge tool in order to reach hundreds of little kids and their families every year. I believe Christians can use this holiday that has such negative connotations and use it to further His Kingdom. How can we put this holiday to use, you ask? Let’s start with participation. Most children will flock to the houses that have decorations up. If you don’t feel comfortable with scary costumes or grotesque imagery, decorate your house with something out of the ordinary. Make your own world in your front yard. I have seen people decorate their houses based on scenes from various books (namely Harry Potter and Disney stories) and kids love it.

Now that you are outwardly participating, let’s talk about the treats you give the kids. Don’t just put tracts in their buckets. Give out the best candy in the neighborhood; let them know that you are the house that is not cheap, and if you want, give them the tract after they’ve seen the kind of candy you have given them. By doing this, it makes them pay closer attention to the next thing that you are presenting them with. If you are not an outgoing person, then you may choose to be discreet and slip it in their buckets along with their candy, or you can present it to them and show them what it is. Either way, most of the time the tract will make its way home with them where their parents will sort through their candy. From there, families can be reached to further His Kingdom.

For years, Halloween has been called a dark day, but don’t let that be because you are not turning on your porch light and greeting little children. Choose to serve God, by accepting the children and their families. Be willing to talk to people in your community. Be the person in the neighborhood that everyone knows has the door open to anyone who needs to talk. Be the Lord’s vessel. In Genesis 50:20, Joseph says a profound phrase that can be the words that drive us forward, “What you intended for evil, God has intended for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”

A Mother's Love

This is something that I wrote for my Advanced Composition Class and I actually grew to love this. It's extremely personal and I was 16 when all this took place. It was an extremely rough time in my life and I thought I would share.

A Mother’s Love
By: Amanda Pate

Mothers. They have such a powerful impact on their children. From a young age we were cuddled, cherished, and loved. What would happen if that one person, the one who made you feel special, the one who laughed and played with you –what would happen if you were told that there was a strong possibility that you would never be able to have a relationship with your mom again? You would never be able to hold a two-way conversation with her or ask advice. You would never be able to be held or cuddled the same way again. Nothing would be the same. And this is where my story begins.

September 30, 2006 was the beginning of a permanent life change for me. On that day, my mother started complaining about serious back pain; pain that burned in the lumbar portion of her back and would shoot down her leg in a searing bolts. Keep in mind, my mother is strong. She is the strongest woman I have ever come in contact with, yet this pain began crippling her day by day until she became completely and entirely bedridden. By the middle of October, she could not get out of bed by herself and could not take a shower alone for fear of her slipping or falling and furthering her pain. We (me and my family) would take my mom to the hospital at least twice a week, and soon, the doctors that were prescribing my mother pain medications, started dwindling because they thought that she was lying just to get prescription drugs. Only one doctor believed her.

Through this process of deteriorating agony, I learned to grow up and become ‘Mom’ to my two younger sisters (who were both in middle school, while I was only sixteen). I learned to cook for the whole family, to drive my sisters to school and events, and help them with their homework after class. I was learning to become an adult and a mom in the matter of months. My dad was gone all the time, both figuratively and physically. He was either at work, and when he wasn’t there, he was caring for Mom. As children, we had always had two parents to rely on, but life at this time was like being thrown into the ocean without ever knowing how to swim. But then, one day after she was rushed to the emergency room by ambulance, Mom said something that we could not wrap our minds around. With tears streaming down the side of her face to hide in her hair, she said, “Girls, all of the doctors’ tests and the prescriptions haven’t fixed me. The pain is so terrible; if they can’t help me, I’m afraid I may not be able to live through this.” Our hearts broke.

We cried for days after that. None of us had a desire to eat. None of us had a desire to go to work or school. We had no drive to live the lives we used to. Our family was breaking, and we could see it as plainly as we saw the Twin Towers crumble into a heap of destruction on September 11th. The time passed along with the diminishing health of my mother. By the end of November, my mother could not walk without assistance because her calves had little muscle in them. Her legs reminded me of malnourished children in Africa, they were so skinny. We were losing hope.

On November 30th, one of my mother’s doctors called to tell her that the results of the most recent test gave them the answer to why she was in such pain. We were so happy that one of the many tests that had been run proved that she wasn’t just crazy. The doctor assigned the surgery to be on January 4th. We could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It was Christmas time, and rather than getting excited about opening presents, we were counting down the days till Mom’s surgery. Ten more days. Despite the terrible circumstances, we were able to buy each other presents. I remember specifically that Mom bought us cute journals from an online store since she couldn’t go shopping. To this day she doesn’t remember ever purchasing them.

The day before my mom was supposed to go into surgery, she became extremely sick. A bug had been going around school and we brought it home to her. She became so sick that the doctor was uncomfortable doing the 6 hour long procedure on an unhealthy body. Our anticipation for the surgery was crushed into millions of pieces. We would have to wait 14 more days.

January 24th finally came around, and at 6am, Mom went into surgery. Six and a half hours later, she was put in the recovery room. We were told that the surgery went well but that her bulging and herniated disk was surrounded by one more huge issue: scar tissue was wrapped around her lower spine like a tumor, causing the pain to increase tenfold. The doctor had removed most of the scar tissue and put the metal rods in her back along with multiple screws to prevent it from ever being that bad again. However, that is not the end of my story.

My mom was put in the recovery room, and unbeknownst to my family, she started having hallucinations, and without looking at the chart, a different doctor gave my mother a drug called Adavan. This particular drug is for people with hallucination problems; however, it reacts most severely when used with Elavil, which was what she had been on during the surgery. Once Adavan was absorbed into her system, she became comatose. She was completely non responsive for almost three days. The doctors told us that it was most likely that she had a brain aneurism, and the best possible outcome would be that she would wake up as a vegetable. Our hope in her survival was miniscule.

Now you can start to imagine what it would feel like to be told that there was very little chance of your mom surviving a careless doctor’s mistake. Again, all of us were thrown into an ocean, unable to swim. I didn’t know how to live without a mother; my sisters didn’t know how to live without a mother; my father didn’t know how to live without a wife. Our lives were absolute torture.

To get my mind off of everything, I decided to receive an invitation to a church function, and I will remember forever the events that transpired that night. I was hanging out with a few friends –something that I had not done in a very long while –and our host home dad came up to me and told me that someone was on the phone. I took it with confusion and answered. What I heard on the other end still makes me weep today. It was my mother’s lucid voice. I was so shocked that words couldn’t even escape my mouth, let alone form coherent sentences in my mind. All I could do was cry in joy. My mom was awake. My mom didn’t have a brain aneurism. My mom wasn’t a vegetable. My mom was alive.

After the surgery, was the beginning of the six-month long recovery process. She was able to wean herself from the multiple pain medications that she was taking including, Darvocet, Fentinal, Celebrex, Elavil, and Valium, as well as, work through the constant nightmares she endured while comatose. All of the doctors were expecting her to go through major withdrawals from all the heavy medications; however, at the end of the six month recovery process, the only pain medication that she needed was Advil and she no longer had to live in fear of going back to sleep. She was healthy.

Many people would think that our relationship went back to what it was before her surgery, but I will tell you that both of us were completely different people after those ten months of torture. She was a stronger woman for overcoming both physical and internal pain and I was still learning to become an adult in more ways than one. Even though things began to drop back into the same routine, our relationship hit a new level. We realized that we didn’t just lean on each other as a mother and daughter, but we leaned on each other as friends would. Over the years, my mom has not only been my mother, but I have been able to call her my best friend as well. She is the one who encourages me, who gives me advice, who hugs me when I’m crying, who loves me unconditionally. That is her impact on me.

I Wanted To Be in Eden

This is how I picture the Fall of Man.

I Wanted To Be in Eden
By: Amanda Pate
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I remember everything back in those days, days where I didn’t have to toil with the ground to plant crops. Days that I would run underneath the trees with Him. Days that I would talk to Him face to face. Those wonderful days.

I remember how He had breathed life into my lungs. He gave me life, sweet life. I had never felt so alive than I had in that moment. I would go among the trees He had made grow so tall and strong. It was beautiful, His creation. All His glory displayed in the things He made. The Great Artist, He is. Even the stars He hung in the night sky seemed to sparkle with His splendor.

I remember the day He made my helper; my wife, He called her. I don’t remember this part much. He put me to sleep, and later told me how He took my rib out from my body and from that He made the beautiful creation in front of me. She was another testament to His great glory. He had made her with His own hands. Had shaped the very outline of her face with His fingertips.

All three of us would walk among the garden He had created. We would talk of many things, but one conversation -one important conversation -stuck out above all others. He had told us specifically there was one tree that we were not to eat of. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil, He called it. I thought it was funny, He chose that one of all trees to make evil. It was tall and strong, the branches thick and heavy with ripe fruit. It was appealing to the eye and just thinking about it made my mouth water, but I would obey Him; He was the One who gave me life after all.

All we wanted to do was spend our time with Him. He was a wonder! Everything He did was all glory and splendor. We believed Him fully, or so we thought. One afternoon, after we had just finished our walk with Him, my wife and I walked to the center of the garden. The great tree loomed in the waning light of the afternoon. The sun played a certain dance among the great tree and its branches, making it change from looking ominous to inviting, sumptuous even.

My wife walked a bit closer to the tree and I followed. When she got close enough to touch the tree with an extended hand, she hesitated. And both our eyes caught on an animal by the tree. It was a serpent and it spoke, “Did He actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden?’”

My wife, knowing full well what He had told us, corrected the serpent and told him that we could eat and touch any tree except this one, for if we did we would die.

“You will not surely die.” the serpent mused in its raspy voice, “For He knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like Him, knowing good and evil.”

We both looked at each other. Was it so? Had He tricked us because He hadn’t wanted us to be like Him? Innocence had been all we had known, and this thought, this blasphemy, was planting and taking root within our minds. I remember how it felt; the tingling of new ideas, like I was no longer ignorant of what was being done behind my back.

My wife looked away from me and without a word, took the fruit from the tree and bit into it. She turned and stared straight into my eyes, juices from the fruit trailing down the side of her face. She held the forbidden fruit in front of me, silently seducing me.

I took it from her hand, looking at the fruit’s bright color, the color of ripe. I held it up to my lips and bit into the fruit. An explosion of sweetness made my mouth surrender to its overwhelming flavor and I sucked the juices dribbling from my mouth as I lowered the fruit from my face. As soon as I swallowed the large bite I had in my mouth, its taste became that of ash, not the sweet burst my tongue had met a moment ago.

Something within me changed. My eyes became clearer. I saw my wife standing before me. Her face was bittersweet. She had gotten what she had wanted. She had tasted of the fruit, but we both knew that we had gone against His one rule. I looked at her more fully and saw that she was naked and I saw myself and realized that I also was naked. We both blushed crimson and rushed into the forest to find something in order to cover ourselves with.

We came across one of the many fig trees within the garden and began cinching leaves together to make coverings for us. We had not realized, but night was coming swiftly upon us, and with the twilight, we heard Him walking through the garden. We looked at each other, fear reflecting in our eyes. What would He do to us since we went against His word?

We ran and hid ourselves among the great trees. His footsteps approached as if He knew exactly where to find us, but instead of looking behind the tree, He called after us, asking where we were.

I could not stand lying to Him any longer. I knew I would die today, but I just couldn’t bring myself to lie to Him a second time. I stood out from behind the tree I had been hiding and walked toward Him, my fig leaf-clothes rustling with an unsettling newness.

My head was low; I dared not even look Him in the eye. I told Him that I had heard Him approach but was afraid because I was naked. I was ashamed. My disobedience was repulsive.

“Who told you that you were naked?” He asked. His voice sounded betrayed and saddened. “Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?”

I could not even nod my head. Instead, I said, “The woman, whom you gave to be with me, she gave me the fruit of the tree and I ate.” I could not take all the blame; she had a rather large part in this as well, but even as the words came out of my mouth, I could still taste the bitterness of the fruit, the sin.

I watched as He turned to face her, “What is this that you have done?” I looked behind me to where He was staring; she had come out from behind the tree that we were both previously hiding.

Her cheeks were a bright blushed pink, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.” She said in a small voice.
My heart ached within my chest at her confession. We would both surely die now.

His attention spun to the serpent that was cowering, watching the scene from a distance. The serpent approached slowly and slyly, every movement provocative. He cursed it, and made it slither on its belly instead of walk like it had been not but a moment before.

Shamed, the serpent crawled on its belly out of sight never to be seen again. There was a pause in conversation. No one uttered a single word or made a sound. I thought at first He might let us go and just curse the snake, for it was the serpent that deceived us in the beginning.

However I was extremely wrong. He spoke once again to my wife, telling her he would make child labor painful and that as her husband, I would rule over her. He then told me that I would toil with the land and eat from whatever grew, but that it would not only produce fruit and other foods, but thorns and thistles as well, and by my sweat, I would take from the ground until I returned to the dust of the earth.

The judgment was swift and hurtful, but it was just. I still could not bear to look up at Him. He provided us with clothes and then ushered us out of the garden gates, out of the lush green land inside. He appointed an angel to guard the gate with a fiery sword so that we could never enter the garden again.

I looked out among the sparse land. It was empty compared to His beautiful green garden, which was so rich with vegetation. Tears came to my eyes. I looked back at the great angel. He had thick armor and looked fierce with the flaming sword near his face, but it was what was behind him that made my eyes overflow with tears.

I wanted to be back talking with Him amongst the trees. I wanted to run and enjoy the lungs He so graciously breathed life into, I wanted to be in the comfort and shelter of His arms, I wanted to be naked and unashamed.

I wanted to be in Eden.
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Author’s Note: This is based on the story in Genesis chapters 1-3. If this is anyway contradictory to those passages, do not take my word; instead, believe the Holy Scriptures.

This was strongly inspired by God and Phil Wickham’s song ‘Eden’.

I wrote this a while ago, but I have been reading through Genesis for my Old Testament class and this spoke to me all the more, so I thought I would share! :)

To Further His Kingdom

I have been reading through Romans since I arrived at OBU, and I stumbled upon something that was extremely interesting to me.

First of all, I'm going to tell you, "Go read Romans 9."
"Yes, that would be now."
"Yeah, I want you to go into the other room (or across the room), pick up your Bible, sit down, and before you go back to Facebook and check to see if someone else commented on the same status that you did, read all of chapter 9." :)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Yey... You read it!! It's interesting isn't it? Did verse 3 stick out to you in any particular way? Well, it did to me. I thought it was very interesting that Paul said that he wished that he were cut off from Christ so that others could know him genuinely.

Let me put it in more simple terms: He would have rather gone to Hell, if it meant that his brothers in the flesh (Jews and other nonbelievers) would be able to know Christ and establish a relationship with Him.

How crazy does that sound? As a Christ follower, doesn't that kind of scare you? Just a little bit? Paul was being completely selfless when he wrote that to the Christians in Rome. He was saying that if it would further His Kingdom, then he would be willing to take the blame and punishment for them and other nonbelievers.

To me that is extremely intimidating. I cannot picture being in a place without my Savior right beside me. I cannot imagine being in a dark place, feeling the dark flames burn me to the core, and a never ending heat singing my lungs, and smelling the sulfur and the decay of life. How hopeless would that be, knowing that you were so far away from Christ in every way?

But Paul says, if it is to further His Kingdom, then he would take that spot in Hell. I will say that Paul does know that that could never happen, but in this letter he is being completely selfless and showing the Followers in Rome how much he loves them and how he wants to carry their burdens with them. I am astounded at Paul's love for these people and his passionate drive to further Christ's Kingdom.

Lately, I have been reading and learning a lot of things that I actually already knew but did not understand. It is an incredible thing to really understand what you're reading and not just have the knowledge about the subject.

This week, I challenge you to go to a book in the Bible that you have read a billion times, but for the first time really try to understand it. Dig deep. Pray for wisdom as you read His Word. Ask Him, our Lord and Savior, to reveal Himself to you as you read.

Let Him Work

I'm going to tell you a little bit about what happened to me a couple of weeks ago, so to start off I am going to Oklahoma Baptist and this fall I will be a transfer junior. I had previously signed up for an apartment, but to my dismay I was assigned to a dorm (the one I wanted the least). For weeks, all I could think about was how crappy it would be if I got in that dorm and how I would not have my own kitchen, I would be stuck in a nasty community bathroom, I would have to buy extra dorm equipment (that I didn't have the money for) -all negative things, mind you.

For weeks my attitude was extremely negative and on top of the rooming situation, everything else seemed to be going wrong as well. My family and I didn't get on, I would get upset at small things. Everything was going terribly wrong.

One night, I was in my bed, thinking about what I was going to do. And I finally resigned myself to my fate in the dorms. I said, "Lord, if the dorm is where you want me, fine. I will go to a dorm. If you can be more glorified with me in Kerr then I will go."

A lot of you are probably thinking, "eh, a dorm isn't that bad."
And you are probably right. That was just the last place I wanted to be and I was stubborn and I wanted things to go my way; however, God helped me realize that it had nothing to do with me, but it had everything to do with Him. But anyways, I finally gave it over to Him and He took it completely. For the rest of the night, I didn't worry about it.

The next morning, I was out and about taking photos of my sisters and one of their boyfriends, when I got a call from OBU. They said that they had an apartment available for me to move into. I was extremely excited and couldn't believe that I had finally gotten in!

What amazed me most was the fact that God was saying, "Hey, I've been hoping that you would give it over to Me so I can bless you. For you to trust me enough, and know that I have an amazing plan for you, whether it's in an apartment or a dorm. Because, either way, I will be glorified."

I was completely humbled in that moment, thinking that all this time I could have just given it over to Him and it would have caused me less stress.

Keep in mind, I am NOT saying that if you give a certain situation over to God, He will do what you want Him to. I am NOT saying that AT ALL!!!! He will do whatever makes Him most glorified. I will give you a little piece of advice that I have learned over the years: 'Do not ask God a question [or give a situation over to Him], if you are not prepared for two completely different answers.'

And know that in those completely different answers that God will be glorified and that He will choose the one that glorifies Him the most. It doesn't matter about our comfort, our desires, our wants, our dreams; the only thing that matters is the glorification of Christ and Christ alone, not ourselves.