For you, if you are hurting.

    I haven't done this in a while. I only blog when I feel I have something that needs to be said. This is definitely one of those times. Please, bear with me.

    My dad was the best dad in the world. Don't bother arguing; I won't hear you. He was. Most kids love their dads, some respect or idolize them, and I was no exception, but I have one more thing to add these: I admired my dad. Still do. He was a spectacular human being.
    Every person he ever encountered could have told you that. He didn't see class, or wealth, or appearance. When he looked at you, he saw you, just a person like him, no better, no worse, a person, who deserved love, and respect, and joy. Everyone was important to him, the guy in the drive thru at Taco Bell, the cashier at Wal-Mart. Everyone.
    Last summer, my dad left this world to be with Jesus. I will never forget it. It was the worst day of my life. My mom, my sister Jessie, and I were/are shocked. It was the last thing we expected.
    I've been a Christian since I was 15 - that's 11 years, in case you were wondering, and I know my Jesus. I know Him. I put my trust in Him because He convinced me of His love, convinced me He was worthy of my faith. He has proven Himself to me time and time again. Steadfast and true, He is my refuge, my peace, my all. But I couldn't make sense of the loss. I couldn't understand why the Lord would take my father from me. I don't believe that God causes every death, but with my dad, I knew, Jesus took him. I just couldn't find a reason for it.
    I was furious. I felt betrayed. I felt hopeless. I felt alone.
    The pain was indescribable. 
    I railed at God, my Heavenly Father, who was supposed to be there for me, who always had been. That first night, by myself in the quiet in the dark, I couldn't hold back the sobs. I couldn't hold back the torrent of anger. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to trust Him again. That terrified me.
    "Aren't you supposed to be comforting me right now?!" I demanded. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

    I knew He was there; I could feel His presence, but it was like He was standing on the other side of the room. Not holding me the way I expected, not answering, just listening while I spewed vitriol.
    The next night, I was mad at Dad, my earthly dad. He left. He must've thought Mom, Jessie, and I were strong enough to lose him, but I told him he was wrong. We wouldn't survive this, I said. I didn't believe we would.
    Still, Jesus stood in the corner, listening.
    The third night, the tears returned, like clockwork, and a single thought broke through the agony: Remember, the Lord has always been faithful.
    I could remember. I allowed myself to recall all the times He'd been there, He'd answered my questions and prayers, He'd helped, He'd healed. Jesus had never forsaken me.
    And He spoke, not audibly, but the Bible says His sheep know His voice. It's clear, quiet and peaceful deep within the heart. He told me He'd been waiting, keeping His distance, while I was angry, while I raged, until I was ready to hear Him, ready to let Him comfort me. In fact, I realized, if He'd tried to console me before, I'd have only gotten angrier. I wanted to be livid. The poison had to be expelled.
    And I understood then, so clearly, He'd allowed it, He'd let me behave and feel like I did because He loved me and it was what I needed.
    Can you imagine that? Just think about it for a second. He didn't deserve my wrath; my father's life, his loss, was not about me, but between him and Jesus. It wasn't my place to call God out on that decision, to call God a traitor because I was hurting, but He took it, took all that venom, for me.
    I don't have the mercy to do that. If someone is unjustly angry with me, I stand up for myself. I tell them they're wrong and an idiot, and they should apologize for slandering me. Even if they need to be mad, I have to defend myself. It's not fair to me, and I tell them so.
    But not God. No, the Creator of the universe is better than I am. He not only let me scream and snarl, He listened. He understood. He didn't stop me. He didn't leave.
    An eternal God, maker of all things, gave me space, something so small, but so huge.
    That is Love. 
    I knew then that I'd be okay. We'd be okay. My God is faithful, and scripture says, "He makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose." He loves me.
    He loves you too. 
    Whatever you've been through, however you're hurting, no matter what you've done or who you are, He loves you. He wants to heal your brokenness. He wants to make you whole. He wants to give you peace and joy and life abundant. He wants carry you through it all, giving you exactly what you need, working all things for your good.
    He wanted me to tell you that.
    Jesus loves you. Let that powerful truth wash over you because there is nothing greater in creation.

    I leave you with a little bit of Bible, because it says it better than I do, and a song, because it was written in a time of loss, and Mom, Jessie, and I sang it for Dad's memorial. It says it perfectly.

"O taste and see that the LORD is good; happy are those who take refuge in Him." - Psalm 34:8

"But Zion said, 'The LORD has forsaken me, my LORD has forgotten me.' Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these might forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands..." - Isaiah 49:14-16a

Elijah Wood and the Value of You

    I like quotes. I can waste a good two hours just reading quotes online. There are entire websites dedicated to quotes! You can search for ones on specific topics or said by specific people, and you're all set. Sometimes the internet is stupendous.
    The other day, whilst conducting one of these searches, I needed to find some words regarding the value of human life. I read, and searched again, and read, and searched again, and read, but in the end, I only found two quotes that dealt with the worth of humanity. There were dozens of lines spoken or written by many brilliant people concerning the value of faith, or love, or perseverance, or humor, or hard work, but only two, two which spoke of the intrinsic worth of every human being. This is a problem.
    I have come to the conclusion that most people would say that human beings matter. Unfortunately, I have also come to the conclusion that most people do not live their lives according to that truth. In fact, I think, if you pursued the issue, most people would say that some people matter more than others. They might not say it quite like that, but that is what most of us think. I used to think it too. 

    As a teenager, I believed that some people were very valuable, particularly those I loved or admired, like Mother Teresa or Elijah Wood (whom I fully intended to marry until I was 18), but I never would have thought that their value was nonnegotiable. And I certainly never would have applied that concept to myself or to those I considered unworthy: criminals, jerks, people who wore Birkenstocks, etc. I prescribed to the opinion that value hinged on attributes. Beauty was valuable. Intelligence was valuable. If one was a hard worker, considerate, funny, and well-liked, one had much worth, but the removal of any of those virtues, or the addition of any flaws, resulted in the lessening of one's value.
    I was wrong.
    The truth needs to be said, and I'm going to say it, and you might not agree with me, but I submit that, whether we like it or not, people matter. 
    Every single human being has a value which is inherent, a quintessential worth from which we cannot be severed. Every human being is precious, priceless, in worth. Period. No qualifiers. No quantifiers. No ifs, ands, or buts. People are valuable simply because they are human.
    You may be clever, or pretty, or hilarious, or brave, but you are also valuable. You may be poor, or broken, or alone, but you are also valuable. You may be coarse, or stupid, or cold, or malicious, but, guess what, you are also valuable. It is not because of your qualities; it is one of your qualities. 

Who needs the ring, when I have you?

    Now, you may also be pretty and talented and outrageously wonderful, like Elijah Wood (whom I would still marry if he asked me), but your worth is not reliant upon or even augmented by these things. Pretty people aren't better than ugly people. Smart people are not better than stupid people. Nope. People are people are people, and everyone is worthwhile, and everyone is worth the same.

    Your value is immutable, inalienable, and divine. You were created with it. It is part of you. You matter. You are important.
    Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, including you. And the next time you start to feel like a hopeless case, or a useless lump, or a waste of space/air, or any other terrible lie you've been told, remember the truth: You are worthwhile, precious, and loved, and nothing anyone says will ever change that.

"We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving." - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows