I share a lot of stuff. A lot.  Thoughts. Feelings. Memories. Intimate angles on an extraordinary God.  Whatever comes flowing from His well of my words.   Some people love it. They can’t wait to see what else I’m saying about Him or what new thing He’s doing in me. They are comforted by the love that goes on.  By the grief That I refuse to pretend isn’t here.  By that force that has their attention and is working on their heart too. 

Other people don’t care for my “transparency” . TMI or at least the kind of Information better kept to ones self. They’ve unfollowed or disconnected, unfriended and avoided. They don’t appreciate such a real look at raw pain.  They’d like to avoid the discomfort of hard things.  They’d rather not feel the conviction that comes with heart lessons of this nature. The probing questions God asks of us when He yields answers in a life so close to us.

But I’ve been drafted. Called up . Prepared. My relationship with Him comes with both guarantees and expectations. And while I’m as free to never share a thing as I am to post every day of the week- I am REDEEMED. That means I have a story. Obedience means telling it. 

So this is my story and I’m sticking to it. Truth from yesterday. Truth for today and tomorrow. 

My story is that He’s the Kind of Good that we struggle to grasp. The kind of bad that is actually good. That when He uproots us we’ve never been on more solid ground. And that He runs a kingdom economy with more supply than our demand could ever dwindle away. That I’m an undeserved wretch who became a royal freaking princess of the King of all Kings. A pauper no more. A prodigal pushing back from the table full and loved. That when I died I found true life together and that we will be better together for eternity. My God calls me chosen . I receive it. I open it up and squeal in delight. Thank you good good Father! 

Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story! 

Psalm 107:2