How To Dream (In Color Again)

You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream – C. S. Lewis

*scribble scribble* “ALLLMOOOST…” The sound of a little girl coloring snapped me out of my daze. I had been staring out the window of my airplane seat and dozed off into thought and prayer. Long plane rides tend to have this effect on me. Repositioning myself, I looked down to my right to see a 4-year-old girl sticking out her tongue in determination as she wiggled a tiny, purple crayon back and forth on paper.

“THEEERE!” With a definite, final swipe of color, she lifted her crayon and paused to examine her colorful Disney princess masterpiece. Much to my surprise, she actually did an amazing job of coloring inside of the lines. “Wow, that’s pretty good for someone your age,” I said looking over her shoulder. She shyly looked up at me, then smiled wide with a toothy smile, minus one tooth in the very middle. “You like it?!” “I love it! Where did you learn to color like that?” With excitement, she turned and flung her tiny right hand into her mother’s left hand. “Mommy taught me! Isn’t she the best?!”

Her mom looked at me and smiled. She, however, did not seem to be the type to make small talk, so she looked straight ahead and leaned back to take a nap. Her daughter was quite the opposite. The little girl reached forward to grab her stash of crayons, and then she slowly looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. “Would you color with me?” I laughed. “Pshh! Yes! It’s been forever!” Her eyes lit up as she had found a new friend to join in her creativity. She handed me a pink crayon and sloppily flipped to the next page. I couldn’t tell which princess was on this new page. Growing up with only brothers has apparently robbed me of the joys of princess movies. Nonetheless! I have attained enough life wisdom to not tell this to little girls. “OH! I love this princess!” I said as she replied, “ME TOO! She’s my favorite!”

And so we got to work. With a coloring book between us, we alternated between ferociously scribbling away at the blotches of white within the lines and carefully tracing the bold edges. Coloring was actually very fun, but it could only go so far. I decided to carry on some more small talk. “So, tell me, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Her head shot up! “A princess! But not when I grow up, silly! I am a princess!” “Ah! Of course, your Highness, kind of like this one, right here?” She looked down at our artwork. “No, no, no… Much better! Daddy said I was the best princess there ever was! He gave me this for my birthday! He said,

Sweetie, you are a princess! You’re the best and most beautiful princess this world has ever seen. And every princess needs to color like a princess and learn from princesses before her, so be very careful to choose the right colors and color inside the lines! Don’t be afraid to go slow. Take your time. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done when I see you again!

“And where’s your dad?” “Oh, you know, fighting bad guys!” She nonchalantly looked back down to keep on coloring. Her quick scribbles, however, grew slower and slower as she added, “Yeah, bad guys… they sure take a long time to beat…” My attention was stolen by her mother taking a deep breath, sitting straight up again. Her closed eyes twitched, and I could tell that tension was building. Yet somehow this little girl had a way about turning this around. “It’s okay, though! Daddy promised he’d come back! And I have this to show him how I’ve been learning to be a better princess!” She glanced up at me with a reassuring childish smile and looked back down to keep on coloring. The best deduction I could make was that her father is in the military.

I proceeded to aid her in her coloring venture for a good while longer. Every now and then, she would give me direction on how I ought to be coloring. “NO, no, NO! Like this!” “Oh, forgive me, your Highness!” “YEAHHH – just like that!” It was quite the humorous plane ride to be sure. In fact, it was one of the best plane rides I’ve ever been on. There’s something refreshing about delving into children’s imaginations and taking part in their take on life.

Eventually, the plane dropped altitude and arrived at its terminal. The air pressure released from the cabin and the relief of all the passengers could be heard as everyone began to stand and grab their belongings from the above compartments. We were going to be standing up soon, so I handed the pink crayon back to the little girl. She put it into her crayon case. She then looked at me with a dignified look (as dignified as a 4-year-old can look), looked down at our finished product, then proudly said, “This is yours!” She attempted to rip the princess coloring out but failed at first try, so she put more leverage into the action, and managed to tear it out. I took it from her and said, “Ah thank you very much, your Highness!” as I received her prized possession, folding it and sliding it into my pocket.

As we stood up to leave the airplane, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. The little girl followed her mom down the aisle with a subtle limp. How could I have missed it? The little girl had a prosthetic leg! I grabbed my luggage from the compartment above me and then quickly followed after this little girl and her mom. I caught up to them before we walked into the main terminal, but I would have never expected the following scene. The mother and little girl came to a sudden halt at the entrance of the waiting lobby, and the other impatient travelers streamed around them. Confused, I looked over the mother’s shoulder and saw something in the distance: something strong, something brave, something… camouflage!

A tall soldier stepped forward in the oddest way. A small step, a big step, a small step, a big step. The little girl began slowly stumbling forward in likewise fashion. A small step, a big step, a small step, a big step. “Daddy!” “Princess!” The distance between them diminished in the most irregular, picturesque way as he swept her off her feet and swung her in a circle. In the excitement of swinging her around, he almost fell. He wasn’t quite used to his new prosthetic leg.

Tears of joy. Tears of relief. The little girl, being held in her father’s arms, kept on saying, “You’re here! You’re really here!” The mother joined them and the three linked arms and held each other for a good while. “Darling, what happened?” asked the wife, as she looked at his mechanical leg. He paused and then choked out the words. “There was a good friend… who – well, a grenade that got thrown into our bunker, and he pushed me out of the way before he threw himself on top of it.” “Daddy…” said the little girl with her arms still wrapped around her dad’s neck. “Yes, Princess?” “Is that why you’re back with mommy and me? Because of him?” The father held his daughter in front of him, taking in the blessing of seeing her again.  Then pulling her back in close he said, “Yes, because of him...”

It was getting more difficult to maintain my own composure. I could barely pull myself away from the scene. So gripping the straps on my backpack, I tried to walk by as if nothing was happening. Then I heard a little voice from behind me shout, “Wait!” I kept on walking. “WAIIIT!” This time my feet couldn’t go any farther, and I turned around to see this little girl stumbling towards me. Before I could react, she flung her arms around me and hugged me tightly! I let my arms wrap around her in return as I looked up to see her father smiling with his wife clinging to his side. He didn’t know who I was, but he knew that I somehow carried a significance in his daughter’s heart.

The little girl whispered into the hem of my coat, “Thank you.” I looked down in confusion. “For what?” Her little head raised as she smiled that same childish smile from before.

For helping color in my dreams, silly…

My vision began to blur together as the little girl became distant. The back of my head suddenly took on a weight which I couldn’t explain. “Huh? What’s going on?” It got heavier and heavier until I felt myself tipping backward in the strangest way. I let go of the little girl, reaching for something to keep my upright, but instead, I actually fell straight back into my bed!

“NO!…” I said under my breath staring up at my bedroom ceiling with wide eyes. “Was that really?!…” My eyes scrunched and my hands smeared my face up and down in frustration. “It just had to be…” So with a deep breath and a moan, I rolled over, then picked up my phone from my bedstand to check the time: 2:45 a.m. Ugh. The dream was detailed enough that I couldn’t fall back asleep. My mind kept on chewing over the nuances of everything about it. The more I did this, the more something began to unfold.


Over time, God gives each of us a “coloring book” detailing our hopes, goals, visions, and dreams in life. To begin, it is a step of faith to believe and trust in God’s love, sovereignty, and omniscience that He knows what is best for us. As we believe what He has revealed to us, we slowly but surely color in our future destinies.

However, we all have very different coloring books! To some God reveals the end goal of one’s life in the first picture, whereas some color in hundreds of pictures before anything seems to culminate. In either case, it is the duty of both to color with childlike faith in God’s Holy Word.

Everyone experiences difficulties or setbacks to their dreams. The ultimate foe is sin. This is of no problem to the Master’s plan. As we draw nearer and nearer to our Lord Jesus Christ, we continuously reckon more and more that He became sin and died with its very essence intertwined with His being. Through this process, via His resurrection and indwelling spirit, He endows us with the blessing of not only giving us dreams, but He lives inside of us to aid in their fulfillment to extents which would have never been dreamed possible.


So bathe in God’s presence and let Him draw the story which will provide the most impossible canvas you could ever imagine. And as you color, remember to have fun and enjoy every detail.

After all, you never know who will sit beside you and also learn to color again!

Let’s Go On An Adventure

It is 3 am, and my colleagues and I graduate from college tomorrow. Well… today. Whatever.

Within 8 hours we will receive diplomas. Mine represents a degree in Accounting.

However, there is a hunch that runs through my veins. Maybe it runs in yours as well. It is an adrenaline rush that aches for adventure. It is a child’s wish while blowing out his birthday cake candles. It is a vision. It is a storyline that, even if it does not top the storyline in the book next to it on the shelf, it is unique – just like yours.

Do you feel it? Does your heartbeat begin to race? Do you open God’s Word and feel a weight on your chest which crumbles under the thought, “My child, adventure is out there!”? And even if you do not “feel” the weight, maybe you still know it is there, and that is enough to move forward. Moving forward takes faith.

But you see, you do not need as much faith as you may think. Christ termed a mustard seed’s worth as moving a mountain. Here is the best part though: Jesus is talking to you! He is talking to me! He is speaking into that very dose of epicness that is flowing through our veins. He is saying, “Forget how much faith you think you have or do not have. Just… move forward!”

I do not know about you, but I have prayed many a prayer towards the direction of my life. We all do now and again. But there is something special about tomorrow, or… today… *head scratch* Something defining. Whatever the ultimate storyline of my life is, I am willing to take a bet that this is the turning point that God’s plotline in my life has been waiting for.

So friends, whatever the future holds, let us be brave! May our prayers be larger than our dreams, and our dreams larger than our realities! Let us open God’s Word with childlikeness afresh and approach His presence with boldness, confidence, and security. These are the things concealed and presented to us within the gift of salvation.

So how about it?

Let’s go on an adventure!

I Let Go of the End of My Rope (SOS)

WARNING: PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION…

Have you ever seemed to just completely lose faith?

Well, that’s where I’m at this very moment. This may be the most prideful move I could make yet, but I’m about to type what I don’t have the guts to even tell the closest people in my life right now. Every dear friend and family member has done everything in their power to encourage, exhort, rebuke, and help me, and I’m tired of letting them all down. Why go back and tell them I’ve fallen, when clearly what they told me before did not have a truly lasting effect on my life.

Have you ever had all the answers, yet they didn’t seem to change anything?

Fact: Jesus Christ IS the Son of God, LIVED a perfect life, DIED for my sins, ROSE from the grave, and is SEATED on His throne. Yet for some reason, that doesn’t affect anything. I’ve spent lots of time in the Scriptures and in prayer, but the fervency is gone. I’ve lost the knowledge of what even to ask for. I’ve lost care. I KNOW there are people that are going to hell, but… my eyes still turn towards myself.

Have you ever felt like that one loophole in the system?

Well, it sure seems like I fell through it. For all the prayers that I’ve prayed, where am I but back in a deep, dark pit? Don’t get me wrong, God hasn’t changed. God is God. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. It seems like I’m the loophole. Not Him. So many people in my life have told me, “CJ, you fall down, but one thing is for certain: you always get back up.” But what if I’ve changed? Time takes a toll on a person.

Have you ever…

Fill in the blank. Why am I writing this? I don’t know. Maybe someone will see me as a blank slate and be willing to say a fervent prayer or two. I’m tired of going to my same friends and family to lift me up only to watch me fall again… I’m tired of being Mr. Extreme Pendelum. I’m tired of shedding tears next to them… I’m tired, Jesus… so tired… I know Matthew 11:28-30. I KNOW it. I KNOW Psalm 34:4. I KNOW Psalms 23. But it seems to end there.

Worst of all… I’m tired of talking myself back to Truth. That seems to have been a staple trait as seen by everyone in my life. But in hours like this, some staples just seem to fall out.

But I suppose… I’d be a fool if I didn’t include this last thought that runs through my mind as I write. This past summer there was a point when I was at my lowest, and my coworkers and I were painting a house of a lady who happened to be a Christian. Her name was Mrs. Smart. On the third day, she called me into her house and handed me a wooden cross and said, “Two of my husbands have died of cancer. One of them held one of these as he died. I’m giving this to you so that you can always remember that in your darkest hour when all else fails, you can ALWAYS hold on to the cross…”

The thought right after I wrote that was this, “Yeah, well, what about when my grip slips?”

Haha, well, I guess… praise God that since I died and rose with Him, the cross will NEVER lose its grip on me…

If anyone happens to read this… a prayer or two would be appreciated.

Warrior Poet’s Log – May 12th, 2016

These are the nights that define us. When the enemy surrounds us in our darkest hour, to whom will we turn? Will we flinch or will we raise the banner? Will we stand when all else fall? Will we grit our teeth and charge into the abyss of uncertainty with complete certainty in our God? Many claim a testimony of gained growth in Christ after doubting outside the courts of weighty trial, but such a testimony pales in comparison to those who stand firm beside their Lord in the center of hell’s jury.

These are the nights that define us. When everything within threatens to cry, do we squelch the tears and shout for victory though no victory be in sight? Victory that is seen requires no faith, but without faith it is impossible to please Him, therefore it is in our darkest hour that our true faith is revealed. And as our good Lord asked, “When the Son of Man cometh, will He find faith on earth?”

These are the nights that define us. And this is the night that will henceforth define me. I have cried my way to crosses before, but not tonight. No, this time I accept the nails as my friends. I do not and cannot see my Lord’s plan, but I accept my present fate with a wry grin and a growl in my soul. Though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be swept into the midst of the sea, I will not fear. I trust my God to the end. His will be done and His kingdom come. Amen, and amen.

Roses

Show me the roses that grow among the thorns,
Painting the beauty that comes in many forms,
Showing me the good in life that overcomes the pricks,
Revealing the hope throughout the rugged sticks.

Show me the roses that grow through any storm,
Cherishing the drench, whether freezing or warm,
Showing me the joy in life that overcomes the pain,
Teaching me to dance beneath torrential rain.

The thorns feel most severe when reaching for a rose,
Cutting deep, showing flaws, and leaving us to foes.
But as we grasp, we cry out, and find that by our call
We find Jesus, the finest rose of all.

The Value of Trying

There are various posts in the works, but I suppose there isn’t much said (or anything said for that matter) that’s… “real.”

So… here I am being real!

Chuck Norris Gif 1.gif

Oops, sorry. That still wasn’t “real.” But I thought you would enjoy that anyway.

It never ceases to amaze me how God has wired us as humans to be able to change. The brain, the body, and everything involved has the capability to learn new habits. And all too often we sell ourselves short because “we can’t do something.” Well, okay, maybe you can’t! But have you tried? Failed? Well, try again! Then try again! And again! How do you suppose sanctification is supposed to work?!

Listen. Psalm 103:14, “For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.” God understands when we fail (to an extent because sometimes we’re just plain stupid). Proverbs 24:16, “For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again: but the wicked shall fall into mischief.”

This semester God has been “rewiring me” so to speak. I prayed, “God, change me” and God quickly stuck His hand into the details of my life and basically was like, “So… you realize that isn’t what I would consider excellent, right?” To be frank, I have failed 100 times. And ironically enough, I’ll fail 100 more times! The best part is: that’s okay. It is the grandest privilege in the universe to try, fail, repeat the process 100 times, and still have an all-knowing God love me the same amount either way!

I’m studying for a final right now, but I thought I would take a moment to post something. It’s too bad there isn’t time to delve into tons of detail. That would be nice…

Merry Christmas!

All is Yours, All is Well

God, my dreams are wholly Yours.
My future is not mine.
My hopes and fears with all my tears
Are Yours as well, not mine.

God, my laugh is wholly Yours.
My smile is not my own.
My teeth and tongue, while I’m still young
Are Yours and not my own.

God, my past is wholly Yours:
My jumps and falls and more.
My highs and lows with the hard blows
Are Yours then much more.

God, it’s true this world is Yours.
My world is Yours as well.
My past, my now, my fate, and brow
Are Yours, so all is well.