Bridge of Blood

January 8th, 1956 – Death of Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Pete Fleming, Roger Youderian, and Ed McCully by Auca spears.

About two months ago, I was privileged to act in a small stage production of the play called “Bridge of Blood”. It is based on the story of Jim & Elisabeth Elliot and the four other couples that went with them to minister to the Auca Indians.

The story became much more than a mere “story” in my life through being part of the play. I had known my whole life about the story, I knew it was a true story, it was impacting to hear the way they willingly gave everything to love these unloved people–to give even their very lives, and yet…somehow, it was still “just a story” to me in so many ways.

I remember the first time I heard that Elisabeth Elliot and Rachel Saint, Nate Saint’s sister, had gone back to the tribe that mercilessly killed their husband and brother. I was astounded that they would go back. They faced evil with the love of Jesus, and His name was glorified in that tribe. Some of the men who committed the murders became mighty preachers of the gospel and said that they couldn’t wait to go to heaven to be able to thank the men they killed for being willing to give their lives to share the grace of God with them. What love is this! What a mighty God is this!

I played the part of Barbara Youderian in the play, and personally felt the grief as I watched “Roger” unknowingly, but willingly, go to his death for the sake of Christ. Before the men departed from the mission house to head out to meet up with the Aucas, they gathered together with their wives and sang We Rest On Thee.

We rest on Thee, our Shield and our Defender!
We go not forth alone against the foe;
Strong in Thy strength, safe in Thy keeping tender,
We rest on Thee, and in Thy Name we go.
Strong in Thy strength, safe in Thy keeping tender,
We rest on Thee, and in Thy Name we go.

Yes, in Thy Name, O Captain of salvation!
In Thy dear Name, all other names above;
Jesus our Righteousness, our sure Foundation,
Our Prince of glory and our King of love.
Jesus our Righteousness, our sure Foundation,
Our Prince of glory and our King of love.

We go in faith, our own great weakness feeling,
And needing more each day Thy grace to know:
Yet from our hearts a song of triumph pealing,
“We rest on Thee, and in Thy Name we go.”
Yet from our hearts a song of triumph pealing,
“We rest on Thee, and in Thy Name we go.”

We rest on Thee, our Shield and our Defender!
Thine is the battle, Thine shall be the praise;
When passing through the gates of pearly splendor,
Victors, we rest with Thee, through endless days.
When passing through the gates of pearly splendor,
Victors, we rest with Thee, through endless days.

Tears filled my eyes when we sang this song together as we knelt on that stage, knowing what was next, feeling the grief already, …I can’t properly describe how real it all became. The faith and trust they had in God became tangible, the wives and the struggles and strengths they went through in releasing their husbands to the care of a mighty and trustworthy God was brought blatantly before me. The reality that God WAS and IS mighty and trustworthy–even though I already knew the end of the story, and it wasn’t what they were expecting.

I stood in center stage and chokingly read these lines from the pages of Barbara Youderian’s journal:

Tonight the captain told us of finding the bodies in the river. God gave me this verse two days ago. Psalm 48:14, “For this God is our God for ever and ever: he will be our guide even unto death.” As I came face-to-face with the news of Rog’s death, my heart was filled with praise. He was worthy of his homegoing. Help me, Lord, to be both mommy and daddy. I’ve explained to Beth that Daddy is now in heaven living with Jesus, but she can’t understand why he won’t come down and play with her once in a while. I wrote a letter to the mission family, trying to explain the peace I have. I want to be free of self-pity. It is a tool of Satan to rot away a life. The Lord has closed our hearts to grief and hysteria and filled them with His perfect peace.

Is this my response to grief and horror? Horror beyond what I can even imagine, and her words are “as I came face-to-face with [my husband’s] death, my heart was filled with praise. He was worthy of his homegoing.” This is obviously an outflow from a heart filled with God–to praise in the face of calamity, to immediately be on guard from self pity, to be filled with His perfect peace. Oh Jesus, You are good!

Their grief was real, the pain was real, and reality of being widows after barely being married at all was real, the horror was real–I’m not trying to diminish any of that. But Jesus was there in the midst of it! The Lord and all of who He is is real. He does not leave us comfortless, He comes to us. What joy, what trust!

“I have one desire now – to live a life of reckless abandon for the Lord, putting all my energy into it. Maybe He’ll send me someplace where the name of Jesus Christ is unknown. Jim, I’m taking the Lord at His word, and I’m trusting Him to prove His Word. It’s kind of like putting all your eggs in one basket, but we’ve already put our trust in Him for salvation, so why not do it as far as our life is concerned?” -taken from a letter Ed McCully wrote to Jim Elliot in 1950

“Forgive me for being so ordinary while claiming to know so extraordinary a God.” – Jim Elliot

The Adventure Begins

It’s been too long since I’ve written, and the words feel jammed inside somewhere. As if I need to get a few cleared out, and thoughts might flow a little better.

Changes. Changes full of beauty and a deeper love than I could imagine.  Terrifying changes. Changes that drive me to Jesus in utter dependency and a fresh realization that there is nowhere safer to be than in Him.

Since my last post here, a lot has happened.

The Adventure Begins

A few weeks ago, I woke up in the morning and headed into what seemed would be a normal day. A bit later, I got a terse text that said “Come to the chapel right now.” I’m sure tires were screeching as I careened through the neighborhood. An hour later I was purchasing airplane tickets for my Dad and two other men to go international on a mission to protect the innocent. 7 hours later they were headed to the airport and embarking on a journey which no one really knew what it might involve. I prayed I would see my Dad alive again.

During the week he was gone, we prayed, we stood strong, we excitedly waited for any and every little update we could find.

And, unrelated to anything else going on, we received an email from someone about a little girl here in the States who needed someone to care for her.

A week after he left, I hugged Dad tightly in our living room, so thankful for the Lord’s protection.

The next day, I got another brief text: “It looks like she’s going to be ours.” So fast. What was happening? I wasn’t sure, but I already loved this little girl whose name I still didn’t know, and I was ready to do whatever God asked.

Two and a half days later, I looked for the first time at the beautiful girl who was to be my little sister.

As I looked in her eyes, tears filled mine and I had to turn away before they spilled over. Desperation. Hope. Terror. Emptiness. Trauma. Excitement. Desperate hope. I saw her story written on her face as she turned away from all she had ever known and got into our car. She pressed her face against the window and waved one last time as we drove away before turning forward and allowing a deep sob to escape her chest. There was no stopping the tears in each of our eyes and hearts.

So young, so vulnerable. And ours.

I helped her make cookies this morning. I posed for her as she drew a picture of me. I watched the Sound of Music with her. I sat with my arms around her, her sweet head in my lap. I went shopping with her. I laid on my bed and ate pretzels with her. I whispered “I love you” over and over. I hugged her goodnight. I promised to be right there with her first thing in the morning. I watched my parents fall in love with their new daughter. Tears spilled over again as she excitedly yelled “Daddy!” as soon as he walked back in the front door from the gym.

For nearly 25 years I have been the youngest child, and paradigms are shifting in our family.

This little one looks up to me like no one ever has before in my life. We love each other deeply, and every time she snuggles up to me and wraps her arms around my waist and doesn’t let go, my heart aches a little more. Ever since this little girl stepped into our lives just a short while ago, tears have either been running down my cheeks constantly or hiding just around the corner ready to show up without warning.  How can I already love her this much? How can I be a big sister to one so desperate for love and a rebuilding of trust? What do I do when I see the hurt well up and she closes down and acts in the only way she knows how based on the things she has experienced in her young little life–experiences I can’t even imagine. How can I show her the love of her Heavenly Father?

Jesus. HE is how. Jesus is Who I must turn to. His heart is the only one that can handle such love and such sorrow.

This past several weeks has been life-altering in ways I could never have fathomed when I got up that Friday morning. It has been difficult. It has been heart-breaking. It has been exhausting…

…and it has been filled with JOY. It has been filled with JESUS. I can’t deny the beauty in seeing my own weakness and His utter strength. I’m enraptured.

Seeing the heart of God in my parents through these past few weeks has touched something in me that hasn’t ever really been touched on before. I can’t express how honored and humbled I am to be part of their lives and learning from them the way I have for my whole life–but especially the past few weeks. Their given-ness; their endless love; their pre-decided “YES!” to anything the Lord may ask of them; allowing the door of their life–physically and emotionally–to be flung open to the most vulnerable. Thank You, Jesus. You had a beautiful plan when you scripted the lives of my parents.

And the proof that You know what You’re doing? It’s inescapable. I see it so clearly in the way this little sister of mine came into our family.

It is with great joy and expectancy that I can say my life has changed and it will never be the same. Oh! the adventures the Lord takes us on!

Rest in HIM

The Lord is teaching me to say with the Psalmist, “I delight to do Thy will,” instead of the usual, “Well, I supposed it’s the Lord’s will so we’ll just have to put up with it.”

Oh, the delirium of consciously being in the will of the Master–what joy! And this brings a knowledge of His presence and this affords rest.

“My presence shall go with thee, and I shall give thee rest.”

– The Shadow of the Almighty –

How can I love?

I boarded the plane for the last leg of my journey, excited to be done with a long day of traveling. Settling into my seat in the middle of the very last row of the plane, I eyed everyone coming down the aisle toward the back–which one was to be my seat-mate?

People trickled in and the seats filled up. Every seat on the plane was full. Before the doors of the airplane ever closed, I was already getting a little annoyed with a handful of the people in my general vicinity.

The seats directly in front of me were filled with two men who were buddies, and a girl who was merely assigned to the seat next to them.

The men were vulgar, crass, inappropriate to the girls around them, and generally just difficult to be around. A few exchanged glances with some of the people nearby confirmed that I was not the only one a little apprehensive about how this flight would be.

We taxied, took off, and headed for home. During the duration of the flight, these chaps drank a little too much and it only served enhanced their previous behaviour. I was getting more upset as time went by–specifically because of how they were treating the girl next to them, for the language that they were spilling all over plane, and just their general lack of dignity and manliness in general.

By the time we were descending, they were in full swing and one of them in particular had had enough to drink on the flight that he lost a good portion of it. All over the floor, himself, my bag, and the girl next to him.

I’ll just fast-forward here, and say that a good portion of the people who de-boarded that plane were pretty upset about everything that had happened on the whole flight. In an empty concourse on the way to the baggage claim, I had a run-in with the men which was of a nature that only made me (and them) more upset about the whole situation.

Tears spilled over as I called Dad and asked him to meet me at the top of the stairs rather than just waiting in the car–I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being alone at the baggage claim with these guys who were now drunk and specifically upset at me (because of the previous run-in).

I’ve left out some details, but I wanted to give enough information for the rest of my post to make sense.

That night as I lay in bed, I was still crying and shaking with indignation at all that had happened. I was so upset, I couldn’t even think straight. I didn’t know what to think. I knew I needed to pray and take it to the Lord, but I didn’t even know how.

In the quietness of the middle of the night, the Lord spoke to me. Not verbally with words that I could hear, but softly to the deepest places of my heart.

“Oh, Jesus. I can’t. How do I love people like that? I know You do, but . . . they were so revolting! I can’t. I don’t want to.” The last words are a stab to my heart to even remember.

Then it struck me as never before. Their sin is not any more revolting in the eyes of the Lord than mine.

Oh, Jesus!

Somehow, I have had a gradient for sin. I didn’t think I did. I thought I loved people. I thought I desired for even the worst of the worst to know Jesus. But, then I was faced with a situation which made my flesh rise up so strongly–I did not love with the heart of Christ. I did not want to love.

Jesus loves. He is love. When we bear the name of Christ and live in Him and He in us, how can we not love?

The behaviour of such men is not to be loved or commended, but how can I despise a living soul who must one day face the judgement seat of Christ–possibly to be damned to everlasting hellfire? It was once I who was in such a position before the Lord–loved but lost. Participating in revolting sin. Dead even while I lived.

Jesus, forgive me! I, in my sin, am not somehow better or less despicable than those men because of so-called “lesser sins”. There is no such thing.

Grip the hearts of those men, Lord. Teach me to love. To forgive. Fill me with the fullness of who You are!

Jesus, I my cross have taken.

Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken,
Thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition,
All I’ve sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition!
God and heaven are still my own.

Let the world despise and leave me,
They have left my Savior, too.
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
Thou art not, like them, untrue.
O while Thou dost smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me,
Show Thy face and all is bright.

Man may trouble and distress me,
’Twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me;
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm me
While Thy love is left to me;
Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with Thee.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure,
Come disaster, scorn and pain
In Thy service, pain is pleasure,
With Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee Abba Father,
I have stayed my heart on Thee
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather;
All must work for good to me.

Soul, then know thy full salvation
Rise o’er sin and fear and care
Joy to find in every station,
Something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee,
Think what Father’s smiles are thine,
Think that Jesus died to win thee,
Child of heaven, canst thou repine.

Haste thee on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith, and winged by prayer.
Heaven’s eternal days before thee,
God’s own hand shall guide us there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.

-Henry Lyte

Forgive me for being so ordinary while claiming to know so extraordinary a God. – Jim Elliot

Oh, how much this quote describes my life. I have fallen willingly into the “easy life” of just being “normal”. But I claim to be hidden in the very life of Christ, and to have Him dwelling in me…how can I be “normal” while truly living that?

I was reading in Katie Davis’ book and this cute interlude between her and one of her children popped out at me (this is slightly paraphrased because I don’t have the book right here with me)–

‘One of my girls asked me: “If I ask Jesus into my heart, will I explode?” I laughingly replied with “No, of course not!” and then I rethought my answer: “Yes, if Jesus comes into your heart, you will explode.” That is exactly what we should do if Jesus comes to live inside our hearts. We will explode with love, with compassion, with hurt for those who are hurting, and with joy for those who rejoice. We will explode with a desire to be more, to be better, to be close to the one who made us.’ -Katie Davis

When we enter into Christ and He enters into us, it is an exchange–His life for ours. Our life for HIS. It is not a joining of two lives. God is not coming in and joining up with our old life. He comes in and ravishes our life and completely overtakes us….this is how it should be, anyway. We are to be dead to self–our old man absolutely eradicated. Exchanged for the life of CHRIST.

“But know that the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for Himself: the LORD will hear when I call unto Him.” Psalm 4:3

Set apart: to be distinct, marked out, be separated, be distinguished
to be wonderful
to make separate, set apart

“If anyone is in Christ, he is a NEW CREATION; old things have passed away; behold all things have become new!” 2 Corinthians 5:17

There are areas of life where in this world we are to be extraordinary–but in the heavenly realms, these things are to be the norm.

In our world, it is normal to worry about things that aren’t looking so great. But as a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are called to “be anxious for nothing.” In our earthly terms, to live this way is extraordinary.

In our world, it is the normal thing to do live a “good life” and just not do “bad things”. As a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are called to continually “examine [ourselves], whether [we] be in the faith” and to “be perfect as [HE] is perfect.” In our earthly terms, to truly live this way is extraordinary.

In our world, it is the normal thing to do get upset about things, wish our circumstances were different than they really are, to get discouraged at our situations in life, to shy away from pain and persecutions. As a new creation in Christ, set apart for Him, we are called to “rejoice in the Lord always, and again, I say, REJOICE!” In our earthly terms, to live this way is extraordinary.

In our world, it is normal and even wise to have a backup plan, in case God doesn’t come through (although we wouldn’t actually put it in those terms). We specifically plan for “plan B” to kick in. As a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are to have Christ as our all in all–and once we put our hand to the plow, we are not to even glance back. We are called to extreme faith (“without wavering!”) in the One who has called us–“for He is faithful that promised.” In our earthly terms, to live this way is extraordinary.

In our world, it is the normal thing to do hold a grievance against another when they have specifically wronged you, we feel justified in holding onto our offenses. As a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are called to forgive, even as the Heavenly Father has forgiven us–completely and utterly, without even a remembrance of any wrong done. In our earthly terms, to live this way is beyond extraordinary.

In our world, it is the normal thing to do to become panicked in a time of crisis. As a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are called to “be still and know that [He] is God.” The disciples, when panicking over looking death right in the face, are rebuked: “…why are you fearful? How is it that you have no faith?” “In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” In our earthly terms, to live this way is extraordinary.

In our world, it is the normal thing to do to depend on ourselves and our own strength–we are so often specifically even raised this way in our culture. As a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are called to have complete and utter dependence on God, in absolutely every single aspect of our lives. In our earthly terms, to live this is seen as extraordinary (and is usually seen as stupid!).

In our world, it is the normal thing to do to take time for ourselves, to make our own self feel better, to have “down time”, to pat ourselves on the back for all the good we’ve done and reward ourselves with some time for ourselves. As a new creation in God, set apart for Him, we are called to live as if our lives are not our own–because, indeed, our body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and we are not our own. In our earthly terms, to live this is seen as extraordinary.

There are so many more such examples.

The point is that these things should not be extraordinary in the life of Christ–living as the life of God requires of us should be the normal for a life surrendered fully to God. But if the world looks at us as “normal”, we have much to be concerned about!

We are to be showcasing a new creation. A creation made exquisitely by the Master Creator Himself!

True godliness leaves the world convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the only explanation for you, is Jesus Christ to whose eternally unchanging and altogether adequate “I AM!” your heart has learned to say with unshatterable faith, “Thou art!” – Major Ian Thomas

If we are holding onto parts and pieces of our life for any reason, then we have not yet grasped the fullness of the Gospel. When we’ve truly seen Jesus Christ and Him crucified, there is no holding back from giving Him our all…but it should be completely outside of anything we or anyone else may personally receive–it is because this is what the life and death of Christ requires of those claiming His name: abandonment of self and all you once held dear.

And it is with great excitement and willingness that this takes place, because we have seen that He is worthy!

If there are still parts of us that are living “to and for ourselves”, where does full surrender then come into the picture?

Full surrender doesn’t come into the picture . . . it is the picture.

It is not ordinary to desire to be spilled out for the sake of Christ. It is not ordinary to be willing to be looked on as being a fool for the sake of Christ. It is not ordinary to get excited at the thought of dying for Christ’s sake. It is not ordinary to love Jesus more than life itself.

But this is what a life surrendered to an extraordinary God compels us to.

So, I say again with Jim Elliot:

“Forgive me for being so ordinary while claiming to know so extraordinary a God.”

When one is captivated by and allows their life to be ravished and overtaken by so extraordinary a God, they become a “one-note wonder”. JESUS.



That is the cry of my heart. The refrain of my life. And I want that to be the only cry of my heart for the rest of my days–that every breath I breathe would proclaim


Make me ever more dependent on you, Lord. I need you desperately.

We are commissioned to represent Christ! To bear the very name, to bear the very image and reputation of God Almighty!

Don’t pray that God would teach you how to love like He loves; pray that He would fill you with Himself and that He would love in and through you. Don’t pray that He would teach you to have joy; pray that the living God full of joy would enter into you. Don’t pray that He would teach you how to be peaceful; ask for the God of peace, the Prince of peace to infill you. Because if you try to imitate in your own strength, you will be a miserable replica. But if you allow the impartation of Jesus Christ to overtake you, suddenly it all works because it is Him imitating Himself, and He is very good at being God. -Eric Ludy

Tonight’s Thoughts

Tonight is a night where everything is so still that I can almost palpably feel the nearness of my Jesus.

Tonight He is whispering to my heart with words of love and truth.

Tonight I am grieving over my own hardness of heart.

Tonight I am thankful for weakness and pain.

Tonight I am unable to sleep because of the aching in my heart.

Tonight is a night of peace and contentment; a night of longing and searching.

Tonight is a night of sweet worship in adoration of my beloved King.

Tonight is the sort of night I’d love to be taking a ramble in the woods, peeking up into the stars above between the branches of the trees, reveling in the majesty of creation.

Tonight, the cry of my heart is “Desiderio Domini!” (“I dearly long to be with my Lord”)

Tonight I am thankful. So very thankful.

Tonight I am realizing afresh my own unworthiness, and the utter worthiness of my God.

Tonight the tears are falling as I pray for my brother who does not yet know the reality of a life lived for Christ.

Tonight my arms are aching for the hugs of my dear kiddos in Africa, and the ones I’ve not yet met all over the world.

Tonight I am hungering and thirsting for more of my Jesus.

Tonight is a sweet gift from God.


(Ellerslie Chapel – photo not taken by me)


Each new semester at Ellerslie brings with it something so special and sweet that I can never figure out how to put it into words. This is probably why I don’t write much about it, even though it’s one of the biggest things happening in my life.

There just aren’t really words.

Some people ask me what my favorite semester at Ellerslie has been, and I’ve always deigned to not answer. But now I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t answer it. Or . . . if I do answer, it’s generally something along the lines of “the current one”. It’s true–at any given moment, my favorite semester of Ellerslie is the current one (or the latest one, if we aren’t currently in session).

This semester is no different. I love this semester.

There have been difficulties, there have been misunderstandings, there have been things that have to be worked through publicly–but all of these things have brought about an even greater sweetness. A closeness of fellowship. A deeper love for each individual as we all throw ourselves individually and collectively at the feet of our Saviour in acknowledgement of our own neediness and unworthiness.

I look around at the faces of each of these students here right now, and I am filled with such a love for each one of them. What a blessing and honor to spend each and every day with people whose heart’s one desire is to know Jesus more and more each day!

A Smattering Of Things I Love About Ellerslie:

  • gaining approximately 60-70 new siblings every semester
  • fellowship and laughter together at the meal tables
  • learning to be in the presence of God every moment of every day–whether through specific prayer times, or while doing the dishes. Continually practicing the presence of God.
  • the times of worship through singing every morning in the little chapel
  • iron sharpening iron
  • afternoons in the Everitt Center–playing music, talking, laughing, and drinking tea
  • the fact that picking up 3 6-foot subs at once at Subway is “normal”
  • lunch tables where all we do is talk about the greatness of our God and the way He has shown Himself great in our lives personally
  • interacting daily with a whole group of people who love Jesus more than life itself
  • spontaneous volleyball and ultimate frisbee games
  • the epic student life activities (I’m not going to give anything away here, because I know future students read this blog….but believe me, we’ve got some great ones!)


  • the constant and abiding focus on Jesus as the North Star–the compass point by which we are to live our lives, every moment of every day!

Oh, what joy!

True joy is beautiful, powerful, enchanting, and unstoppable, and today I am so thankful for the joy of the Lord.

I have had the lyrics to the song “What Joy” in my head for the past several weeks, and I’ve been loving it so much, I want to share it here:

You made the heavens and the earth
The sea and all that is in it
Your promises remain
You give justice to the weak
You care for the widow and orphan
Forevermore You reign

What joy, what joy for those whose hope is in the name of the Lord
What peace, what peace for those whose confidence is Him alone!

Hallelujah, forever we will sing
Hallelujah, praises to the King
Hallelujah, forever we will sing
Hallelujah, praises to the King


I have seen and tasted that the Lord is good, and that joy that comes from Him is unshakable no matter what happens–come what may, what joy and peace for those whose confidence and hope is in the Lord!

The joy of the Lord is strength.

Just imagine!

A lively and active imagination is a beautiful gift from God, and today (and everyday!) I am so thankful to have one.

I imagine things all the time, in all sorts of situations . . . pretty much non-stop.

I imagine what it would be like to be able to do things perfectly. I imagine who I would be if I were not me. I imagine what it would be like to be able to time-travel. I imagine what it must have been like to physically and literally walk with Jesus daily. I imagine where I will be in 20–30–50 years. I imagine up all sorts of story lines and imagine what it would be like if I could actually flesh them out in written word. I imagine what it would be like to live a life free of pain. I imagine what it would be like if I could fly, or if I could suddenly go invisible. I imagine what I would do if I had unlimited resources. I imagine all sorts of beautiful colorful music in my head. I imagine what it would be like if I was living in a hut in a little village in the jungle. I imagine what it would be like if I could fully grasp the greatness of my God. I imagine what it would be like if I never had to struggle with any sort of pride or such thing.

I imagine what it will be like to one day live daily in the very near presence of my King, in reality. I imagine that day when I pass from this world into eternal life with the God of the universe.

Oh, what a glorious day that will be!

I know my imagination can hardly even begin to comprehend such things, but . . . today I am thankful for imagination.