ChristynNicole

I want love without drama, romance without pain. I want intimacy without vulnerability. I want a guarantee. I want something that doesn’t exist. Maybe we all do. Maybe we’re all chasing unicorns.

—Josh James Riebock- Heroes And Monsters: An Honest Look At The Struggle Within All Of Us

resolutewoman:

soon and very soon — made possible by the truth of Easter

The world was waiting, and Sunday came. (From She Reads Truth)

Text: Luke 24:1-12; 1 Corinthians 15; Isaiah 25:6-9; Matthew 28

The world was waiting – for a sign of life, for a miracle, for a happier ending to the story.
The world was waiting, and Sunday came. Praise the Lord, Sunday came.

When the women went to the tomb early that third day – to cover their Lord in their tears and the customary burial spices they’d prepared – the stone which sealed the tomb had been pushed aside. Oh, how their hearts must have sunk at the sight. To witness His betrayal, His brutal death, His burial and His absence, and now this? What on earth was happening here?

The angels made a grand entrance, as angels often do, and they asked the question that reaches through centuries of history to our own aching, weary world: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:5b, NIV)

Can you hear that conversation from the cemetery echoing even now in your own heart?

What makes you think He’s dead?

Well, because He died. I saw it myself.

But what makes you think that’s the end?

Isn’t it? I’ve seen people die. They don’t come back. I’ve killed relationships and opportunities. I’ve suffocated good things with my own hands. None of them came back. When things die, when people die, they don’t live again. That’s the way it works.

Not anymore.

I don’t understand.

Everything has changed.

What do you mean?

You can stop searching the graveyard for the hope, the love, the life you long for. HE IS ALIVE.

Resurrection Sunday is more than the miracle of a man coming back to life.
It is the fulfillment of a promise.
It is the irremovable seal on God’s vow of love to His children.
It is the resurrection of hope.
It is the definitive declaration that the Love we long for is not dead.

He is alive. Oh, dear Sisters, He is alive!

He sits with you, He prays for you, He waits with the Father for you.

For you who wonder if a laugh will ever again escape your lips – He lives for you.
For you who weep with gratitude for gifts you could not possibly have earned – He lives for you.
For you whose eyes strain to see something – anything – good around the bend – He lives for you.
For you who sit alone in the stillness of grief and silence – He lives for you.
For you whose arms are linked to fear on one side and hope on the other – He lives for you.
For you who are soul-weary from searching among dead things for the life your heart longs for – He lives for you.

He lived and died to buy your pardon, just like the old hymn says.
He wrapped His infinite being in flesh for you (John 1:14).
He endured temptation and humiliation, scorn and scourge for you (Hebrews 4:14-16, Matthew 27:15-44).
He satisfied the wrath of the holy and just God the Father for you (Romans 5:6-11).
And He walked out of the grave that Sunday morning for you.

He lives. Hallelujah, the Gospel is true!

http://shereadstruth.com/2014/04/20/alive/

My generation is gruesomely lonely, but in response, we don’t need another handout, another kind gesture, or a better bible study. We don’t need more people that will merely know our name and address or care for us sporadically and at arms length.

We need big, reimagined, Jesus kind of love, and people willing to sacrifice themselves in order to live it with us. We need people who will love us enough to get messy.

So be deeply involved. Be covered in someone’s tears. Be the person who gets the call at midnight. Be the person who hears the gory details when someone’s marriage or career falls apart. Be the person who tells someone the hard stuff that they need to hear but no one wants to say. Be the person who repeatedly gets someone else’s mud and blood all over you. Be the person who goes home a little uncomfortable at night, not because of your behavior and thoughts, but because you’ve been near enough to someone else’s.

Be a family member to the lonely, messy people of this world, and to my generation.

—Josh Riebock, My Generation (via earthstranger)

(Source: brotherstories, via takecaretiredsouls)

Some days, I wake up with this crazy realization of how wildly fortunate I am. I wake up in a bedroom in between two other bedrooms where two of my favorite people in the entire world have woken up or are still resting. And I walk downstairs, knowing that if I need anything, some more of my favorite people are only a phone call away and would be here with a moment’s notice. And I realize that my biggest struggle is getting in my own way of feeling that safety and love. I’m not so sure why it’s such a difficult task to feel the love you’re so freely offered. But such is the human condition. 

Coffee, music and daydreaming.

Coffee, music and daydreaming.

On Valentines Day, I was paid to play a “hipster” on tv.

On Valentines Day, I was paid to play a “hipster” on tv.

When someone genuine knocks on your heart, you’ve got to let go of the stupid stuff from your past. Let them in. Give them space to show you what love looks like. Because you can take it. Your heart’s not glass.