First question: Do you believe in things you can’t see?
Wind, feeling, some kind of presence? Have you ever felt an incredible sense of peace in shivasana at the end of yoga? Or in a church pew? Or a warmth from some kind of sun you can’t see?
Or do would you wish that you could?
Keep reading.

Are you feeling anxiety or fear or intense longing or loneliness currently?
Then definitely keep reading.

If not, no worries. Keep on rollin’ by.

Hi there, friends, still reading. Even if you passed “go”, I realize that some of you still might think I’m a little wacky when I share next. But it’s not wacky. It is incredibly personal, but also much too beautiful to keep to myself.
Because I also believe this can be your story too.

I had a visitor yesterday. Someone came and sat with me in the front room. That sounds crazy even to my ears. (And Don’t worry, I told my husband.)

It wasn’t any man. It was one I’ve known my whole lifelong, really.
One that defies one word alone to explain Him.
Friend. Helper. Savior.
Jesus.

Before I could even think it through, I was not alone. There was such a strong knowing that He was next to me, and I cannot begin to even explain how beautiful it was or even what exactly it felt like. But to say that I knew it was real and I could feel Jesus sitting right beside me.
Maybe first I should back up and tell you why.

See, I came to sit, and to pray. I came because I was desperate. I came With these shreds of hope that I held in my hands. With scraps of doubt and fear that had become so tangled up with the faith I held on to.
I couldn’t unravel them.
The ache and the weight on my chest was crushing.

But I came. I sat
With my uncomfortable.
(So uncomfortable.)

And I put my hands out in front of me in …well, exhaustion. (Are you familiar with that, too?)

The world can feel so heavy sometimes.
Even for a hopeful person like me.

I know God is good and I ‘know’ he is trustworthy. But yet, there was a part of me that couldn’t believe it.
It was this part of me was really really scared.
And I sat on the same couch I where I sit often.
Where I sat a few months ago.

And I attempted a whisper, again.
A whisper of truth, or trying to be true.
What I believed and was trying to hold on to, but was having trouble with.
I attempted to say “I trust you.”

But even I wasn’t buying it.
I couldn’t say it.
The fears had swelled too big for my trust to match, or overpower.
So instead,
I told the truth.

“Why am I such a scared little girl still?”
And then I bawled.

And that’s when I felt His presence right beside me, Actually holding me. His arms around me.
It was so strong and so overwhelming, I could almost see it. I titled my head to the side and I bawled on a shoulder that I couldn’t see with my eyes but I could feel with every other fiber of my being.
I can’t even describe how beautiful and strong it was except to say that I was thoroughly good.
I was HELD.
By the One who had been there all along.
In that moment, I had a deepening knowing.
A knowing if what I know to be true, but I knew it better in that moment.
That’s he’s always. Been. There.
Even in the places I hadn’t let go of or even realized the pain I was holding on to yet.
He has always been right there beside me, holding me, caring for me. Since I was a little girl. A hundred thoughts and moments seem to come all at once.
Evidence. Of love.
This knowing dug in, deeper than the fears that had been simmering under the surface, covered, Deep and quiet.
You know those deep places that remain covered mostly, under polite, normal life. Until things get shaken up, and you find that little girl who’s trying to be brave or the young man who knows that he’s not supposed to cry.
And then you cry.

A deep unearthing, wells of tears.
Tears upon tears
poured out from somewhere deep in my soul.

Yeah, that was me.

But here, with that presence beside me, it was not the kind of tears that ring hollow and felt hopeless. They were tears of a different kind.
Tears that come from pain, but also wash it clean as they pass through. Like an uncovering of a painful wounds and a flushing out at the same time.

Tears of the very best kind.

Of being made more whole.

It’s Like the pain cannot help but be healed by the presence of the Love that sat at my side and held me.

The difference was Him. His presence.
It was not any of my great believing that brought this.
That was just a sliver.
A side salad of faith with a great big heaping garbage plate Of fear.
And I brought it to Jesus. And he took it.

I should tell you, this experience doesn’t feel the same every time. But every time I sit and I give my scraps, I trade in some of the weight and come away lighter. I open up more to that incredible Love, and it truly transformative.

Today I felt so much better than I have in weeks. I was exponentially calmer and lighter and less anxious. My heart was different. I slept better. I woke better.

And I know it’s because I sat with Him and He with me. I’m not special. This isn’t just for me. It’s for you too.

He’s not intimidated by your lack or your garbage or your doubts. He’s not intimidated by any part of you.

What have you got to loose. Maybe you try, again, or for the first time, offering up whatever it is you’re holding in your hands.
Even when it feels like garbage.
Faith or fear. Anxiety and Hope.
Perhaps a very strange mixture of it all.

And may the almighty, all-knowing,
all encompassing arms
of a loving loving Jesus be around you.
May you know more deeply
A Love that is greater
than any of your fears.

And when those weeds shoot up overnight, always faster to return than the flowers of beauty, I will return there. And he’ll help unearth the doubts and place love there deeper. Because this love is healing.
And there’s always deeper to go with that kind of knowing ❤️🙏🏻