Casandra Martin

Our souls ache. Our hearts have deep bruises. Evil has once again snuck in and left weeping, fear, disillusionment, horror, and questions in its wake. Sorrow explodes. Bewilderment stuns. Grief overwhelms. It is too much.

There is no way to make sense of evil’s logic. It twists in the darkness, leaving us shaking our heads and holding our hearts in our hands. Tracing the deep wound leaves us gasping for breath and wondering how to find grace in the midst of terrible tragedy.

As we absorb and echo the unspeakable pain of those who suddenly face empty chairs at the table, toys lined up waiting for little hands, and Christmas presents that will never be unwrapped, what do we say? How do we wrap our minds around something so horrific, so unthinkable, something filled with so much anguish? My hand over my mouth, I am left groaning, searching for words that will express the overflow of my heart in the aftermath of such darkness.

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” – Romans 8:26.

Weak, vulnerable, fragile – those are all words that describe our hearts, especially today. Yet, it is in these very moments that the graciousness of God’s presence gently tugs us closer. The Spirit is speaking for us, even when we don’t know what to say. Our tears find voice in deep groans directed by the Spirit straight into God’s heart. He captures the rhythm of our pain and echoes it back to the Father. Our questions thunder in the consuming fire of grief. We don’t know what or why or how, but the Spirit reminds us that do know Who. And it is that Who that makes all the difference

God knows what it means to lose a child to a violent death. He has felt its heartbreak. He knows its sorrow. He saw this moment before it happened. He positioned grace to be unleashed in its aftermath. He promises to walk through the broken shards of our hearts and teach us how to trace His handprints even here.

My Jesus Resolution today is to pray. I don’t have to speak any words. I can trust the Spirit to search the depths of my heart and say it for me. I can leave my wounded soul in His hands, knowing He will tenderly draw me near to Himself. I can offer the difficult, even dangerous, sacrifice of praise for the ways that He shows Himself faithful, sovereign, and righteous even when darkness splashes on our lives. It is too much for our hearts to bear. But God is bigger…and that is our hope.

My friend had a heart procedure this week. After experiencing some discomfort, the doctors determined that they needed to take a look at my friend’s heart in order to see if there were any problems or concerns.

Settling into prayer, I smiled at the thought of the doctors trying to capture a picture of my friend’s heart. Looking at mere muscle and blood flow will never help them see the love she has for her family, her generous nature, her wonder at the ways of God, her infectious enthusiasm, or the way she giggles when she gets tickled about something. I wanted to send her doctors a message before the exam. “Say hi to Jesus when you find Him in her heart.”

I am thankful for medical technology and the health that it allows us to enjoy. I am also grateful that it doesn’t take a specialized procedure for me to see and benefit from the best things about my friend’s heart. She shares them with me every day.

Each day our hearts are on display for the world. Our words reveal our character. Our actions expose our priorities. Our choices showcase our motives. Others notice the integrity of our commitment, our confidence in the face of struggle, and the alignment of our words and our actions. Whether we realize it or not, the world is scanning our hearts every day looking for evidence of Jesus.

My Jesus Resolution today is to do a heart scan. I am going to cut out a paper heart and spend a few minutes writing down what I want others to see when they look at me. I want words like joy, grace, humility, surrender, and thanksgiving to come into focus when people catch a glimpse of my heart. I am going to spend time with the Great Physician today, asking Him to do what is necessary to heal and transform my heart for His glory. Mostly, I want to be like my friend. Someone whose heart is shaped like and by the cross.

They tugged at my heart. Sunday evening found a teenager holding a kindergartener on his lap. The little boy is slight and has been very sick. His head bears an ugly scar and is smudged with just a shadow of hair starting to grow back in after his medical treatments. The teenager is strong, tall, and wears a letter jacket. Worshipping together, they created a picture of God that causes a lump in my throat.

The kindergartener was excited. He climbed and wiggled and squirmed over and under the legs of his big friend. The teenager was patient. He could have pushed him away. He could have ignored the little one’s efforts to capture his attention. Instead, he gathered him in his arms and did something amazing. Very gently, the big kid slipped his letter jacket around the shoulders of the illness-wracked little boy. The kindergartener got very still. His eyes grew wide, but not as big as his smile. His shoulders curled into the jacket, feeling its weight and enjoying its warmth.

The teenager then snuggled the kindergartener into the crook of his arm. He secured him close to his side, letting his presence, size, and closeness calm the boy’s heart. The little boy relaxed, but never took the jacket off. Way too big, it seemed to fit him as he sat next to his big friend. Finally, he fell asleep, trusting himself to the one who held him tightly.

God chooses to reveal His heart to us through quiet moments and in simple ways. Here, it was through the actions of a teenager and the warmth of a letter jacket. I am so like the illness-plagued little one. My heart is injured, sickened by sin, wrecked by guilt, and wracked by shame. Drawing near to Jesus, He wraps me in His very own garment of grace. He draws me close to His side, inviting me to rest in the nearness of His presence and the warmth of His grace.

My Jesus Resolution today is to be like those boys. Like the kindergartener, I am going to race to get to Jesus. I am going to plant myself in His presence, and delight in being near Him. I am going to wear the gifts He gives me with humility and wonder, resting by His side, content to just be close. Like the teenager, I want to share the warmth of Jesus with someone today. I want to be willing to open my heart and my arms to someone who needs to know that Jesus cares. I want to be willing to give away what identifies me in order to help someone else experience the love of Christ.

I want to believe that people are good. I really do. I see it in most people. Well, some people. Actually, if the truth be told, I don’t even see it when I look in the mirror. Maybe, especially when I look in the mirror.

When our masks are peeled back, our hearts reveal their true stories. Mine is outlined with selfishness, marked with misplaced motives, and splattered with pride. Worry writes its whispers into its folds. Guilt smudges the remnants of beauty. Sin extinguishes the light, washing me in darkness, propelling me to stand ashamed  that good has been replaced by greed.

“[A]s it is written: ‘None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.’” – Romans 3:10-12.

Discouraging and disheartening, if that were the final page of our stories. But God is an Author who loves rewrites. Editing is His most passionate gift. He doesn’t deny that we are spoiled fruit, damaged goods, and broken shards. Instead, He gently gathers up the ruined pieces of my heart and commits Himself to infusing His goodness into me. He mends, binds, erases, rewrites, and transforms. Light is ignited by His presence. Joy is kindled by His power. Peace finds its spark in His purpose.

My Jesus Resolution today is look for the Good. The hope of His goodness is everywhere. The promise of His goodness permeates our world. Every person has the potential to be transformed by and for Goodness. Any good I see is a gift from Him. The goodness that I can find in others, perhaps even myself, is a faithful promise, a whisper of hope that love really does conquer all.

I have a stubborn dog. He is cute, and relatively well-behaved. Adopted from a rescue shelter, he has been a part of our family for two years now. Yet, no matter how much training he receives, how many treats are offered, or how much attention is lavished, he still has a stubborn streak.

We were trying to get ready to go. The last to-do before we headed out the door was to put our pup in his crate. My husband called the dog’s name and told him to go to his box. Our dog heard his voice, took measure of the moment, and planted himself on the blue mat under my desk. He was trying to decide if obedience was worth it. ‘What’s in it for me?’ was written all over his face.

I recognize that look.

Everyday God calls for my obedience. In obeying, He protects me, provides for me, teaches me, cares for me, and transforms me. Sometimes I get stubborn. His call to obedience requires me to go somewhere unexpected, or hard, or someplace I just don’t want to go. I dig my feet in and try to decide if obedience is worth it. What will it cost me? Why should I go? What’s in it for me?

We could make a list of all of the blessings and benefits of obedience, but that might mean missing the point. ‘What’s in it for me?’ points my eyes in the wrong direction. It steers my heart to think only of myself. It sets up my benefit as the standard for submission.

Obedience, by its very nature, is a gift that we learn how to give. When we learn to obey God, we are learning to give ourselves away in order to make room for His presence and purpose. It is a step of faith, an act of worship, and an open door to transformation.

My Jesus Resolution today is to see obedience differently. Every opportunity for obedience is a chance to step closer to God’s heart. God will use every act of obedience to bless and transform me, but I want to let go of the ‘what’s in it for me?’ mentality.  Jesus’ life is a gift wrapped in obedience. He whispered, “Not my will, but yours be done,” not for what He could get out of it, but for what He could give by it. Through obedience, He gave Himself away. To me. And to you.

It happened again. The teenager and the toddler. The teenager got up to lead singing, a little nervous, still stepping outside of his comfort zone as he learns how to serve. The toddler, barely containing his excitement, pulls at his mom as his big brown eyes take measure of the near-man standing close by.

The teenager opens the song book and announces the first song. The toddler picks up a book, turns and faces the crowd, lifting his arm in readiness as he prepares to imitate his teenaged picture of Jesus. He tries to balance the weight of the book in one arm while preparing to keep a beat with his other hand. But the book is too heavy.

In steps Mom. Gently, the little boy’s mother lifts the weight of the book with her own hand. With his book now in the right place, the toddler stands straight and tall through the verses of the song, his little arm keeping time with the older boy’s shadow.

The song ends, and a split second of silence fills the air. Those privileged to see sit in hushed wonder at the holy moment. Humbled, tears fill the eyes of the teen. A big grin splashes across the face of the toddler. Yet, it is the actions of the mother that pull at my heart. In a quiet move motivated by love, she lifted a weight and opened the door for her son to learn to be more like Jesus. With one simple movement, she freed her son to imitate, explore, and be transformed.

My Jesus Resolution today is to lift a weight. Someone I know is doing their best to imitate the heart of Jesus. Someone I will meet today longs to take a step into transformation. But the burden is too heavy. The weight is too much. Their balance is off. They can’t do it by themselves. I can help. I can hold a book, give a hug, write a card, make a call, take a step, give a smile, or say a prayer. Sometimes a small gesture is all that is needed to lift the weight, inspire transformation, and spark joy.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” – 2 Corinthians 12:9a

My heart is raw with the pain. Gone is the polished exterior, the have-it-all-together mask that I usually wear. My reality is brokenness. Crushed, overwhelmed, frightened, and exhausted frame the borders of my heart. I can’t see a way out. Crashing waves of despair find me gasping for breath.

I pick up my Bible, hoping for a shred of hope to wrap around my weary soul. It is the present tense nature of Jesus’ words that throw out a lifeline to my heart. “My grace is sufficient for you…” Not was. Not can be. Not will be. Not might be. Is. I AM steps into my pain and offers to change my reality with His little word ‘is.’

No matter how desperate the situation, how deep the pain, how disappointing the answer, Christ’s grace is able to cover the moment. Today, right now, whatever you are experiencing, whatever pain you bear, whatever darkness you are fighting, whatever struggle is engulfing you, there is sufficient grace to carry you through. It won’t ever run out, dry up, or fall off. It is sufficient, more than enough, to see you through.

My Jesus Resolution today is to hold onto 2 Corinthians 12:9 with both hands. His grace will sustain my heart when it feels too broken to take another beat. His grace is strong enough to hold me together in my weakness. There will be no moment so low today that His grace will not reach even deeper and lift me up. Grace is the tether that binds me to His heart. It is the lifeline that will help me hold on for another minute, hour, and day. Sufficient grace is His promise and my best hope.

Questions are great. They are at the heart of the learning process. Two-year-olds ask questions about everything. “Why?” seems to be their favorite word. They ask because they are learning how the world works. Teens ask a lot of “why?” questions as well. Theirs don’t always seem to have the open-ended curiosity that a toddler’s do, but they are the same question. Why that decision? Why can’t I? Why do I have to? They are learning how the world works. Their questions help them understand how the adults in their lives make decisions, to see the perspective that gives mom and dad a different answer than the one they would have come up with for themselves.

What questions do you have?  Not the “What’s for dinner? Who’s going to pick up the dry cleaning?” type. The deep questions. The ones that keep you up in the middle of the night. The ones that pull at your heart. They are “why?” questions too. Except with our deep, difficult questions, we suspect that we will never understand how the world works. There is too much uncertainty, too much selfishness. So we hush up our questions, tucking them into the back of our hearts where they only haunt us in the night.

God wants you to ask your questions. The answers we need are not found in this world. He wants you to seek Him out. He invites you to bring Him your questions, search His heart, and discover how He works in your world. As you do, you will make a delightful discovery. When you trust God with your big questions, He will always point you to His Son. The cross is His exclamation point. The answer is always Jesus. His grace is the balm that will soothe our souls.

My Jesus Resolution today is to ask my questions – all of them. Faith doesn’t mean never having questions. It means being willing to go to God for my answers. God doesn’t promise to give me easy answers, or comfortable answers, or quick answers. He does promise that His answers will be filled with His goodness, framed in His truth, and immersed in His love. Having questions means I am growing and learning. Listening for His answers will always direct me to look to Jesus.

“The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion.” – Proverbs 28:1

Do you think of yourself as bold? For most of us, bold isn’t the first descriptive word that comes to our minds when we are asked to describe ourselves. We tend to have a love-hate relationship with boldness. We like the idea of being bold – of standing up and standing firm for Jesus, of calling others to the cross, and of being willing to risk ridicule and resistance for His name. The visions I have of being bold for Jesus often collide head-on with the reality of my silence, fear, and desire just to blend in. I hesitate when I should speak up. I nod politely when I should walk away. I whisper when I should shout. I look around and hope that someone else will stand up and say the right thing.

Looking up the word bold in the dictionary highlights the definitions that we expect to find – fearlessness, daring, and courage. However, a glance down the list of meanings brings to light another definition. “Bold – clear and distinct to the eye, conspicuous.” Perhaps the greatest boldness is not found in a single action, but in a lifestyle that consistently reflects the light of Jesus in a dark world. We are bold when those around us can clearly see that we belong to Christ. Our faith makes us distinctive as we strive to live out His nature and character in our families, at work, and among our neighbors. Looking like Jesus makes us conspicuous. Grace empowers us to be bold as we walk in His steps and imitate His example.

My Jesus Resolution today is to be bold. God doesn’t want me to live a blend-in, blurry life. It takes boldness and determination to look like Jesus. I want His character to be stamped clearly on my heart. I long for His image to be distinct in my words, actions, choices, and relationships. Being bold isn’t about grand gestures. It is about exhibiting the courage required to look like Jesus with my neighbor, at my job, in my house, and at the grocery store. In those ordinary, regular moments, I want boldness to make its mark. I want to leave the people I meet with a clear and distinct impression of Jesus.

It didn’t fit. Shaking my head, I stood by the mirror and checked my reflection again. The package arrived in the mail after days of my waiting and watching for its arrival. I had ordered a new dress online, sure that it would be the flattering, practical answer to my wardrobe dilemma. Now, turning this way and that, there was just no denying that reality didn’t meet my expectations.

Expectations are interesting, sometimes difficult, things. Within an expectation, we set our hopes and our anticipation about tomorrow. Some expectations are grounded in experience. We expect that the red light is going to eventually turn green. Other expectations are grounded in communication with others. I expect to meet my friend at noon because that is when we agreed to get together for lunch. These expectations shape our movements and direct our behavior.

The expectations that get me in trouble are the ones I develop on my own. I have a tendency to set expectations that are not necessarily based on experience or interaction, but rather my own desires. I set a standard for the behavior of others that is defined by what will benefit me. If they love me, they will…. call me, see me, make time for me, invite me, do for me, or notice me. I then hold others to this unspoken expectation, judging their behavior, attitudes, motive, and care on whether or not they meet my pre-determined ideas about how I should be treated. Even worse, sometimes I do this with God.

My Jesus Resolution today is to set my expectations in the reality of God’s goodness. God is not always going to bless me in the way or in the timing I desire. He is always going to do what is the very best thing for me at the perfect time. I can cement my hope in the myriad of ways that I daily experience His grace and His faithfulness. I can set my compass by the truth that He has revealed to me in His Word. God calls me to set my expectations and anticipation about His movement in my life within the reality of His love and the certainty of His purpose. When I do, I will never be disappointed.