Psalm 100

Another week of Elevate has come and gone.

Every year Elevate is bound to change everyone's lives in some way. Whether it be renewal, surrender, reflection, or all of the above; I'd experienced it all. Well, I thought I'd experienced it all.

I would be lying to you if I said that the reoccurring theme I experienced all week was this new-found passion and fire for life and God. I so desperately wish that's what I felt. I went through the week, my heart so heavy it exhausted me even more than the long days running around! I felt robbed of that typical spiritual high from camp. Everyone else was experiencing it, so why wasn't I? Don't get me wrong, it was absolutely incredible to witness so many baptisms and stories of people feeling God's presence, but I couldn't help but see it as bittersweet. I was filled with joy to welcome new brothers and sisters into the Kingdom and to listen to beaming friends as they were rejuvenated in the presence of God, but I couldn't shake the distance I felt from it all. I felt like a spectator; like I was watching God touch so many lives and change so many hearts, but that's it, I was just watching. God had me sitting this game out.

But I wanted to play.

I was that kid sitting on the sideline with that hopeful grin saying, "put me in, coach!"

I kept asking begging God to just break into my heart and do work. It didn't make any sense to me that this huge God of the universe that loves the unlovable and reaches the unreachable couldn't or wouldn't grab ahold of me.

In hopes of sorting through what was on my heart, I spoke with a friend, needing the words to just flow like water. She was so sweet as I sat there and rambled stuff that I can't even remember at this point, but nothing I said made sense and I couldn't find that peace I had been searching for.

I wonder why...

I had been looking in all the wrong places. I was trying to find inner peace from the people around me.  I'm a very relational person. The relationships I have with people mean the world to me. And I love these people so much, but they aren't my peace. They shouldn't be the place I go to for comfort when I feel alone. No matter how hard they try or want to, they will never be able to fix my problems, pick up my pieces, or make me whole. My worth is not determined by how many friends I have, whether or not there is a guy pining for me, or how pretty people think I am. None of that matters. My worth is so much more than all of that.

"It is He who made us, we are His."

Goodness gracious, Jessica Ann.

I read that passage so many times during the week. I knew what it said. I knew what it meant. But for some reason, it just wasn't sticking. I would read it, acknowledge it, then forget about it.

He made me

and I am His

I think I finally realized what my heart God was trying to tell me all week. While I don't think being a relational person is a bad thing, I was putting the wrong relationships first. I serve a jealous God. He wants all of me. Not what's left of me.

I am His

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