Posts tagged Seeking
For the Ones Struggling With Comparison
Photo by Love Be Photography

Photo by Love Be Photography

Comparison is a tricky thing, isn’t it?

Gosh, I’ve been there. I tracked the numbers, stacked up the dominoes, drank the Kool-Aid, did the dance. I tidied the corners of my rooms. I tried tidying the corners of my heart. I brought out the yardstick; do I measure up yet? Will I ever?

Let me spoil things for you: the numbers are never enough, the dominoes fall over, the Kool-Aid makes me sick, I break a leg doing the dance. Those corners multiply cobwebs and the yardstick keeps growing taller. I am too much. I am not enough.

She is way more talented than me; she probably never ruins dinner or spills the coffee or burns the toast. He has it all together; he has two kids and runs a successful business and bought a new house. Why can’t I handle my own one life? Why do the dominoes keep falling over?

I don’t take up enough space in this great big, messy world. I am twenty-five and a little too introspective. I feel the weight of a generation who gave up on God, and I can’t seem to do anything about it. The yardstick keeps growing. I keep shrinking.

I hear the tick, tick, tick of an ever-moving clock.

Did you know the clock was a bomb all along?



None of us wanted comparison, of course. We never wanted to carry these things around like plastic bags of groceries. We wanted connection and inspiration and authenticity. But comparison shows up uninvited and takes its seat right next to us. And instead of kicking it out of the house, we settle in and say, “Could you pass the popcorn, dear?”

Tick, tick, tick.

I think I can hear the bombs in the distance. Sounds like they’re getting closer.

The explosion usually happens, of course. We slam the doors, shatter the china, cry the tears. There will always be someone better, prettier, more put-together. We feel defeated and host an exclusive pity-party in our honor. We make a mental burn book about our supposed friends who don’t show up, Regina George style.


There has to be a better way.

Let me tell you, friends: there is a better way.


We can try to keep up with everyone else in the rat race and the striving for more. Or.

We can believe that we are enough, right where we are.

Not because of our accomplishments. Not because of our beauty. Not because of our golden hearts.

These things are all variables, messy and often failing. The grass withers, the flower fades.



But God—this is my favorite phrase in the whole broken world.

We are not enough on our own selfish paths, but God is enough. He has paid the price, shed the tears, dripped the blood. And if we choose to believe this crazy-good Gospel Story—if we confess with our mouths that Jesus is Lord, if we believe in our hearts that God raised Him from the dead—we will be saved from ourselves. Because He is enough.


We are broken. But God is whole.

We are sinners. But God is perfect.

We are constantly changing. But God is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

We hear the ticking of a bomb and brace for the explosion. But God is a shelter.

We are headed down a doom-filled path. But God steps in and says, “I’ve got this.”


I guess what I’m trying to say is this: We can compare ourselves constantly, we can try to measure up, we can do the good deeds for affirmations and accolades, but we will continue striving—forever and ever, amen.

And I have said this before, but I will say it again and again and again: Jesus is the only comfort and contentment I find to be unfailing. The more I look to myself or the world for fulfillment, the more I am left grasping at straws. But the more I look to God, the more I realize His faithfulness, His grace, His enough-ness for the both of us. For all of us.

It turns out I was measuring with the wrong yardstick all along. I should’ve been counting His endless mercies. I should’ve been writing down all of the ways He is love. This is a far superior way to spend my days.

And these relationships with other broken humans? They aren’t meant to be stacked up and measured. They were never meant to identify self-worth. But God did intend our relationships to point to the Gospel. In marriage and raising families and reporting to our bosses—we are learning sacrifice. We are learning love. Earthly relationships may be messy, but they can also act as beacons of grace and forgiveness, mercy and obedience.

We have the opportunity to shine our lights to each other and point the way home. Sure, we can lament about how narrow the path is and how easy it is to stumble. But when we see our neighbor wander a little off course, we will lean over and shout, "We are enough-- because He is!"

There is room for grace in our relationships, friends. And God is there, ready to pour out His grace in all of those small-big moments.

We are enough. Because He is. 

Choosing Imperfection & Quirky Jokes

I stopped putting stock in perfection. Probably because I noticed the beauty in tattered edges and ink splatters, blurry pictures and scratchy voices.

Now I like the old cars that barely run and listening to quirky jokes. I like the toddler who runs around with one shoe and the mother who laughs at the chaos of it all. 

I will be the first to tell you about my imperfections. I’ll tell you about how much of a mess I make, how I regularly ruin the dinner recipe and say the wrong thing at the worst time. I’ll tell you about spilling my coffee on white shirts and getting lost in downtown. I’ll tell you that I can’t keep a plant alive any longer than I could a goldfish, but that doesn't stop me from trying. I’ll tell you about my heavy heart—how much I struggle with the weight of this broken world and the hope of heaven.


I once tried to organize my bookshelf by color but ended up hating the symmetry. I rearranged stories to make them look more like life. I have two holes in my favorite sweater and never bothered fixing them. People always comment on them like they’re doing me a favor, and I smirk and tell them it’s my holy sweater, like I’m a cheesy TV show host.

I don’t know. One day I just stopped tracing out the lines and started free-handing it all. I’m learning to be okay with having too many feelings and being too short to ever see the stage, because God teaches me so much through my weird and humble perspective.

I thought that people wanted me to act a certain way, and maybe sometimes they do, but it’s way more fun to show up in my own skin. To laugh at myself religiously and love the way the rain sounds. To add sarcastic comments into conversations and make a ridiculous number of Remember the Titans references. To sing along with the songs on the radio and mess up the words, but keep singing anyway, like I’m the opening act and the show must go on.

So I’m regularly missing my exit on the interstate because I’m lost in my thoughts and tripping on sidewalks because I’m looking at the sky. I’m settling into it anyway, though. It helps me see grace.

Alex FlySeeking, My storyComment
Twenty Sixteen.

This year I decided to show up to life. I looked in the mirror and learned to love the reflection a little more. I stopped begging the world for affirmations that God has already given me. I chose joy and light more times than I can count. I laughed at all the funny parts. Sometimes I laughed at the sad parts, too. I stepped aside and allowed God to move mountains.  

This year I failed a lot. I watched a few bridges burn and didn’t do anything to stop them. I stood up ready to speak boldly, but the words came out in stutters. I ran in circles from grace and fell down when I grew tired from all of the running. I slammed on my brakes too many times, afraid to collide with truth.

But I kept showing up in all of my mess, realizing maybe that’s what bravery looks like. I sat in silence with my thoughts and shed layers of fears. I tried on my too-big dreams, which fit better than I remembered. 

This year I dug deep down in my soul, expecting to find a lone girl with broken bones.

Instead, I found an army. 

Alex FlySeekingComment
Everything Broken


I look around at everything broken

And whisper, “I’m broken too.”

I look around at everyone shattered

And try to fix them with glue


I want to find the biggest bleeding hearts in the room

And go with them to pass out band-aids

I want to love people offensively,

Without pretense or pride

But I keep tripping over my own chaos

I keep trying to hide


Turns out band-aids can't cure cancer

Or heal battle wounds


All this time I’ve been waiting

I’ve been waiting to be set free

And along comes God,

Infinitely bigger and better than me


I hold out my hands,

Expecting to be punished,

Expecting to be hurt

But instead He offers His own hands,

Perfectly pierced, perfectly torn

Jesus looks at me and utters,

“Don’t worry. You are already reborn.”


I try to argue with Him

Because I don’t understand

Why would He offer me

Those perfect, holy hands?

I try to tell Him I’m not deserving

And this might be a waste

But He turns to me and beckons,

“Trust me. This is mercy. This is grace.”



-Alex Fly

Alex FlySeeking, PoemsComment
I love people, but not enough.

People are funny. We are all so quirky and unique, holding a thousand different stories in the palms of our hands. Sometimes we want others to ask us about these stories, and sometimes we don’t. We are full of passion and depression and fear and joy. We all carry a few scars, some of us more than others. We have freckles sprinkled over our noses and pain in our eyes; we hold onto hope like a lifeline from our sinking ships. Most of the time, we are wandering around just searching for the lighthouse that points the way back home. 

I will never stop being amazed by people—their stories and tendencies and the subtle making or avoiding of eye contact. I will never stop being amazed by humans and our ability to love and hate and hold hands, run and fall and get back up again. We are crazy and misunderstood and a misfit tribe of rebellion. We’re all a little mysterious, aren’t we? Even those who wear our hearts on our sleeves, like we’re slipping on a favorite shirt… we all keep changing eventually. 


The one thing that seems consistent, though, is that people keep surprising me, and I keep surprising people. We will constantly disappoint and hurt each other, stumbling through the everyday with our wounds wide open. Despite all of the good and love we pour out at times, we are imperfect and flawed and failing. There is only One who can satisfy our thirsty souls.

This truth doesn’t mean I don’t love people. Gosh, I love people. Sometimes my heart actually hurts because of how much I love people, each and every one of you brave, beautiful souls. But my one true hope does not rest on any of us.

I empathize with people, too, because I think all of us are trying to find God, even if we don’t realize it yet—that He’s the patch to the hole in our hearts we’ve been trying to fill. We try to fill up our hearts with sex and slander and booze, soulmates and sports and careers. But when we look to the world to fulfill what only God can, we will be hit with a wrecking ball of disappointment every single time. What we thought could make us whole left us with a more noticeable hole, and maybe what we've been searching for all along is holiness. Because these things and people of this world will keep us searching until we find that there is only One who remains enough to patch our broken hearts.


The love of Jesus is the only thing that can hold me up. The cross is the perfect and holy sacrifice that I so desperately need. I am shattered pieces of china that God keeps gluing back together. I am just a heap of bones that God chased after and breathed life into, tripping over myself and aching for glory.

I will keep failing you, and people will keep failing me, but He will remain faithful.

Alex FlySeekingComment
Vote for ________

Tomorrow we go out and vote for our next president. Hopefully we can agree that our options aren’t great. In fact, this whole election season has me a little crazy. I came pretty close to deleting my Facebook account until all of the articles and arguments blow over.

And I get it, because we are a passionate, diverse people group. We are all shaped by different life experiences and possess a need to feel seen and heard. We believe deeply in our convictions, and we aren’t going to stand on the sidelines silently. We are going to fight for those causes that we believe in, and we should. I’m confident that the Lord wants us to be engaged in the world, to be advocators for the helpless and hurting. We shouldn't shy away from the hard things. 

But can we just take a deep breath for a second?


I want to write to you gently today, dear friends, and I’m writing as much to myself as I am to you. Because there are people out there pledging the end of real, long-time friendships based on political disagreements this season. There are people spewing hateful words and casting stones from behind screens. There are hearts being broken because of a believer’s words and labeling of them. Can’t you imagine that Satan is loving every second of this chaos? 

Sure, I think a lot of us are afraid. We are afraid that Roe v. Wade will never get overturned, that we will stop caring about those in poverty, we will stop loving on gays and African Americans and white-collar workers and refugees. We are afraid that the government will take all of our money or they won’t take enough of it, or that the United States will never be the great country it once was.

And although we are confident that the Lord is sitting on His throne, mostly I think we are all just trying to love people the best way we know how... we just get a little off track sometimes. Underneath it all, we are trying to be faithful to what the Lord has called us to on this earth, in this specific time and place. I think (and hope) most of us have done our research; I think we take our voting rights seriously and we are attempting to make our country the best version of itself.

I believe a lot of us truly want what’s best for our neighbors. Friend, may we never lose sight of the supreme Truth: what’s best for them is Jesus.

So however you think the advancement of the Gospel can prevail in the best way—vote for that. However you believe you can best show Christ’s love to the helpless—vote for that. Stand up for life—in the womb and out of the womb and in the church and out of the church. Stand for or against the policies and laws that you believe in upholding or dismissing according to Scripture. As we know, there are big consequences in this election, and must hold fast to our convictions. We must hold fast to the Word of God. 

I’m not here to tell you whom to vote for, because I think you’re capable of making your own decisions. I’m just here to tell you that no matter whose name you check on that ballot, I still love you and your perfectly imperfect self. I know that sounds silly and ideological, but it’s true.

In the end, when we’re standing in front of the throne, we only have to answer to one Guy. In the end, there’s only one Judge. It’s not the media or our work friends or our favorite Christian writers. We must answer to the God who gave up His Son for us, who loves us in the dark places and in the light, who hands out forgiveness to the least deserving of us. So however you think you can best glorify the beautiful, magnificent Creator of the universe—vote for that. 

Keep fighting for what you believe in, but never let it overshadow Whom you believe in. Keep showing up in love and mercy and grace, like our Father shows up for you.


There’s always room for you here,


Alex FlySeekingComment