 Healing isn’t perfect. It requires hard work and patience. You have to be willing to get worse before you get better and to persevere through the hard moments. But trust me, it is so worth it.
I didn’t think therapy was going to help me. Honestly, I felt like I was too far gone. But I felt so weak and broken inside that I figured it was worth a try. Therapy + Jesus. That’s what healed me. Not one or the other—BOTH. I do believe that Jesus can heal us without therapy, but in my story, therapy was the tool that he worked through to help me heal. Therapy and a lot of prayer. I wanted to stop after only a few sessions. I saw growth and I was so excited! I felt like things were “good enough.” I wasn’t back to where I had been before, but I could function and that was enough for me. When I felt satisfied with my half-healing, Jesus kept fighting for my whole healing. He told me that he wants me to be WHOLE. That he’s not done yet. That he still wants to heal me more. Fast forward to a year later…I continued therapy and now I am so grateful to say that I’m 99% back to where I was before! I am healed and I am continuing to heal. I still have some fear and I still get nightmares sometimes. But Jesus has worked in my heart and in my mind like never before. Trust God for healing. Trust the process even when it’s hard and scary. Trust me when I say that it is totally worth it. And don’t give up when you’re half healed. God wants to bring full restoration and healing. My hope is that you take one step towards him and one step towards healing every day.
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 I took this photo on our final day of the trip. For me, this captures the essence of everyday life in Israel. Yes, this place is a holy land and traces of God’s faithfulness are evident everywhere. It is also home to many people who are still searching, still seeking.
This means something today. I believe that God is not done writing his story in Israel. He is still calling his children to come home. He is still alive and moving today. And I believe God may be calling me deeper, to participate in the kingdom work he is still fulfilling. I sense that he is not done writing my story in Israel, either. Yalla.  It was a scorching day. The sun beat down as we explored the desert fortress of Masada. We learned about battles and victories, sacrifice and defeat. It was only fitting to see an IDF fighter jet sneaking across the desert horizon as we watched in awe.
The people of Israel have a rich and complicated history. For many, this flag is a symbol of home and freedom. For others, it is a reminder of the battles they have fought. Either way, it should remind us that nothing comes without sacrifice. May we remember that the gospel is a flag that waves high over the entire world. The gospel is a reminder of Jesus’ sacrifice and a proclamation of the victory he won on our behalf.  I descended the Mount of Olives. The road we were walking led to Jerusalem, Via Dolorosa, and eventually the cross. As I looked around, I realized that there was a cemetery on one side and Gethsemane on the other side. Graves and gardens.
The betrayal at Gethsemane turned a garden into a grave. Yet three days later, Jesus’ resurrection turned that grave into a garden. Jesus, thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for stumbling up that road to the cross, bearing my sin and shame, that one day I might walk freely down those same streets. Thank you for turning graves into gardens.  An early morning wakeup call and a quiet walk to the sand. I sat in the stillness of that which was not yet morning, awaiting the sunrise. Slowly, softly, and surely, light began to dawn. The peachy morning sky reflected on infinite ripples in the gentle sea. For just a moment, it felt like there was no one in the world but God and me.
The world began to wake up. Swimmers splashed through the waters. I heard the distant chatter of people excited for breakfast. I realized that I had to move on, too. But I wanted to take something from this quiet morning. In the stillness, God met me in the waiting. He wrapped his arms around me as if to say, “Remember this. Remember what it was like to have breakfast with me after the resurrection. When the waiting is over, don’t forget the lessons you learned.” So I took one last look at the morning sun and resolved to carry him with me today.  Nazareth. The hometown of Jesus. Today, it’s a modern city with homes, markets, and places of worship. As I stepped into this corner of the world, I was stunned by the normalcy of life in holy places. This encounter reminded me that the sacred and the secular can exist alongside each other. The holiness of this city does not exclude the realness of everyday life. In the hustle and bustle of our lives, Jesus is still alive and working.
This place is real. These people are real. Our God is real. And he wants to walk with us every day in the sacred, secular, and everything in between. |