I recently spent a few days traveling around Texas with my mom and sister. My sister is looking at colleges so we explored the college towns and went on campus tours while I made non-subtle remarks about Auburn's superiority. We shopped like queens and dined like kings and fell a little bit more in love with Texas and its quirkiness each day. 

Here's a short list of the cities and some of the wonderful stops we were able to make...

Fort Worth: TCU, Stockyards // Food: Joe T. Garcia's 

Waco: Baylor, Magnolia Market, Roots Boutique, Spice Village // Food: Common Grounds Coffee, Cafe Homestead, The Olive Branch

College Station: Texas A&M // Food: Grub Burger Bar

Austin: University of Texas, South Congress Street, 2nd Street District, Austin City Limits Live // Food: Magnolia Cafe, Austin Java, Kerbey Lane Cafe

“I have said that Texas is a state of mind, but I think it is more than that. It is a mystique closely approximating a religion. And this is true to the extent that people either passionately love Texas or passionately hate it and, as in other religions, few people dare to inspect it for fear of losing their bearings in mystery or paradox. But I think there will be little quarrel with my feeling that Texas is one thing. For all its enormous range of space, climate, and physical appearance, and for all the internal squabbles, contentions, and strivings, Texas has a tight cohesiveness perhaps stronger than any other section of America. Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study, and the passionate possession of all Texans.”

— John Steinbeck

The wreaths are hung and the tree trimmings have been turned into garland, which were then carefully placed throughout the house. The tree was bought and strung with the just-right amount of white lights. The stockings dangle from the mantle, Bing Crosby Holiday Radio is playing, and the air is filled with cinnamon & berry scented candles. The nativity scene lies atop the bookshelf, where all eyes are on baby Jesus. All signs point to Christmas.

O come, let us adore HIm. 

Maybe it’s just me, but fixing my eyes on Jesus seems more difficult over the holidays. Am I looking to Jesus in the midst of the days leading to Christmas, the time of year dedicated to his birth? Or do the twinkling lights and the rampant consumerism and the Santa Clauses on top of cars and the oh-so-delicious peppermint mochas mesmerize me into ignoring the one story that really matters? How ironic it is that a holiday originally about Jesus has turned into chaos of distractions from Jesus. At least, it seems that way sometimes. Particularly so when I look at another yard covered by 52 blowups of snow globes, penguins in scarves, and various Santa Clauses (It wouldn't be the South if you didn’t see Santa dressed as an avid college football fan). But you know the really beautiful thing? God shows up, no matter what. Just like his humble arrival in a manger so many years ago, He is here. And He is glorified.

Joyful and triumphant.

Just as in the nativity scene, I want my eyes to be fixed on Jesus. Not because He needs us to, but because we have the chance for this time of year to be filled with joy and love and never-ending celebrations of the Greatest Story ever told.

O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem. 

It’s a story I know well, but one I never grow tired of hearing.

The Greatest Story ever told is not one of success or power or great wealth. It is one of tears and agony and holiness. It is the kind of story that brings about total surrenders of hearts, in churches and on mountaintops and in Wendy’s parking lots.

The Greatest Story ever told is a story of incredible juxtapositions. Of a newborn babe in a dirty manger, of a carpenter-King, of life made possible through death. The Greatest Story ever told is one of a virgin birth, of Christ becoming both fully man and fully God, of blood pouring from perfect hands, of pure glory emerging from a broken body. It is a story filled with light breaking through darkness and the last becoming first and hope for the hopeless. It is a story of amazing grace.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David,  to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

-Luke 2:4-7

There was no room for Him then, but He still came. His beginnings were in a manger, in a small town, in pure humility and perfection. And then everyone made their way to the King. Because from the beginning, He was accessible. He was not born in a castle with guards and gates and servants, but He came next to a field of shepherds, He came to us. The shepherds and the angels and the wise men, they showed up because they knew. They knew about this babe born in Bethlehem. And they wanted to be in the presence of the Messiah. 

O come, all ye faithful.

To say I'm excited about this new addition to the shop would be a great understatement. This project has been a long time in the making, and I am thrilled to finally share it with you! While I always try to create things that matter, no products fall under this category more than the new Scripture Memory Set.

Most of us memorized verses in Sunday school at a young age, but somewhere along the line we usually stop learning Scripture, and we become content with being taught about Jesus and His Word every Sunday. I fell into this category until college, where I was urged to continually memorize and keep God's Word on my heart at all times. I learned an effective way of memorizing Scripture, a way where you could remember verses long term (A "How To" card will be included in the starter kit, which explains the method in detail).  Having all of these verses in the back of your mind changes the way you think throughout the day, the way you pray, and the way you share the Gospel.

Memorizing Scripture does not make us "better" Christians, but treasuring these verses changes the way we live and walk with Christ.  I believe that meditating on the Word of God is not something to check off a list, but a significant part of the pursuit of Jesus. 

Also, a portion of our proceeds from the Scripture Memory Set will be donated to Wycliffe Bible Translators, a great organization making Scripture available and understandable all over the globe. 

So, join in this adventure with me? Or maybe give as a gift to remember the real meaning of Christmas? Let's be sowers of gospel.

For more product details/ purchasing, head over to the shop. 

I recently attended a Catholic funeral for a man I did not know, which was held in a beautiful cathedral with unbelievably high ceilings and ornate artwork and magnificent stained glass windows. It was my first funeral mass and I found it full of symbolism and tears and beauty. When the priest stood up and talked about the recently deceased man who bravely fought cancer in the last year of his life, he said something casually that struck me as profound. The Catholic priest uttered the phrase “suffering evokes love” in the middle of his sermon, and I could no longer concentrate because I found myself going back to all of the truth hidden in those words.

Suffering evokes love. In the midst of cancer and heartache and funerals, love is there. In the throes of storms and trials and crucifixions, love rises up from ashes and presents itself like a warm blanket. Love waits in notes and hugs and bouquets of flowers. Love shows up in phone calls and shared tears and little gifts in hospital waiting rooms. It may not cause the pain to go away, but love is there, pointing to the bigger picture and leading us back to Jesus.

Yes, suffering evokes love, and love—the kind of agape love that surpasses worldly understanding—sometimes means suffering. Like childbirth or broken hearts, love often leads to pain. Because love and suffering, they are intertwined in the most beautiful way. The kind of way that leads us back to the cross. The kind of way that leads us to the gospel. Jesus bore the suffering on the cross because He so loved the world. The Messiah allowed nails to be driven into His hands and feet, and endured shouts of humiliation and anger, and cried out in hurt but followed through with the suffering-laced prophecy because He so loved us. Not because it was easy, but because suffering evokes love, and sometimes love evokes suffering. Do you mind if I sit and cry awhile over this truth?

But the greatest story doesn't end at the cross. It begins there. Suffering and love are connected in the magnificent way that leads to mercy and redemption, and "in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28). The sacred tree that held the tears of Jesus was always part of His plan for salvation, and God does indeed work all things--even the messiest, hardest things--for the good of those who love Him. 

Let us remember the ultimate price which was paid on that old wooden cross. Let us be people who bring love to someone else in hurt, and let us look for it in our own seasons of suffering. Let us sing Hallelujah in the most broken of times. Let us always be seekers of Jesus. 

Because love and suffering, they are intertwined in the most beautiful way. The kind of way that leads us back to the cross. 

Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. -Romans 5:3-5

This past week I fell in love with Charleston, the most charming coastal city with magical trees, secret gardens, friendly locals, and good food.

Sights included: The Battery, Rainbow Row, Charleston City Market, King Street, Angel Oak Tree, Boone Hall Plantation

“Charleston has a landscape that encourages intimacy and partisanship. I have heard it said that an inoculation to the sights and smells of the Carolina lowcountry is an almost irreversible antidote to the charms of other landscapes, other alien geographies. You can be moved profoundly by other vistas, by other oceans, by soaring mountain ranges, but you can never be seduced. You can even forsake the lowcountry, renounce it for other climates, but you can never completely escape the sensuous, semitropical pull of Charleston and her marshes.”

— Pat Conroy

For a long time, I didn’t write. Not because I didn’t love writing or wasn’t itching to scribble my thoughts on paper, but because I was afraid. I was afraid of cracking open my heart and finding something I didn’t know was there; I was intimidated by all the truly great writers; I was afraid of stepping out from behind a perfected version of myself that I tried to cultivate. But most of all, I was afraid of how people might respond. I was scared that as soon as I posted my thoughts or inadequacies or stories, a Bible-beating Christian would step out from behind his or her corner of the Internet and hurl disparaging comments and insults and contrary passages of Scripture my way. I was afraid of this because I was seeing it happen everywhere. On blogs, Facebook, website storefronts, Christians are belittling other Jesus-followers while declaring that their parenting ways or political beliefs or church principles are wrong and shameful and disturbing.

Eventually I felt like a boiling pot filled with too much water, and I overcame some of my fears about writing, but because I think the best kind of writing comes from a place of honesty, there will always be a deep sense of vulnerability when it comes to this little space. But I don’t think we should have to be afraid of our brothers and sisters in Christ when it comes to opening up our hearts in writing or speaking or preaching. Remember this post? “They ‘had everything in common’ not because their clothes were similar or they lived in the same neighborhood or had kids the same age, but they had everything in common because they responded to the gospel the same way. Because Christ's death and resurrection changed them.” We should strive to have this kind of unity.

And I know I’m only a 23-year old girl stumbling through the everyday, and I have so much to learn about life and people and the power of words, but here’s what I think.

I think it’s healthy to have debates laced with gentleness and kindness and grace. There will always be differing opinions and arguments over theology and feminism and politics; this is good and important. But I also think that any time we allow our “belief system” to disrupt the Gospel’s proclamation, we need to re-evaluate what we believe and why we believe it.  Because Jesus, His death and resurrection, His love and mercy and grace, He should be our belief system. He’s not a bullet point on a list of what makes us Christian. Jesus plus nothing equals everything. Without the Good News of Jesus, we are just a bunch of rule-following Pharisees ignoring the name of the Messiah while promoting our own agendas. 

I realize that we are imperfect creatures wrought with sinfulness, but what if, instead of being seen as great debaters of theology and semantics and ancient Greek, we were seen as a people who are madly, head-over-heels in love with our Savior? What if we stopped harshly bringing each other down and started loving each other without contingencies-- like a big, dysfunctional family? What if we sang loudly and had a choir of harmonizing voices behind us, screaming encouragement that yes, the Name of Jesus is worth being proclaimed! We wouldn't be singing with identical voices or the same notes, but with the unifying intent to glorify the One who brought us from death to life. 

Now that would be something to talk about, something resembling the unity God wants His church to have.

I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. –John 17:20-23