The devil is a roaring lion. He roars constantly. He roars during our persecutions. Asking why God would do what He’s doing? Why would He let us suffer in this way? Where is He? Has He forgotten you? He roars during times of uncertainty. How can God possibly work through this? Didn’t He say He loved you? Didn’t He claim nothing was impossible? Maybe that promise was for someone else. Not for you.

Service is so deeply important to the Christian lifestyle. It is something Jesus did, and so we are compelled to do it. He washed the feet of His disciples. He healed the sick. He taught the masses. He ministered to many. He discipled those who were meant to pick up where He left off when His work after the cross was done.

And He’s still working and serving us, a people who don’t deserve such tender care and affection.

Truth time: Recently, I realized how numb I can become to the goodness of God. It was the week of Good Friday. My family and I watched “The Passion of the Christ.” Funny, how a confrontation with the cross can realign us and set us straight. As much as I hate to say this, as I became a teenager, I forgot the importance of that sacrifice. I felt as if it was just another story in a book. I never really thought about the whole meaning behind it or realized that if it weren’t for God’s sacrifice, I wouldn't have eternal life. I wouldn't be able to say that I don't have to punish myself because I’ve sinned over and over again.

I wrote those words in the middle of winter, while sitting at my desk in small-town Potsdam, New York. Three months later, as I re-read my old, unedited words, I sat back and thought about how much my life had been flipped upside down. Later that night, I had received an email, saying that I would have three days to get rid of all of my belongings, and move out of my college dorm to live with my parents on Long Island again. I was crushed, especially after writing such strong, comforting words earlier that morning.

There is no fear in love. All of God’s promises to us are awesome, but there is something about this one that catches my heart. Anyone who knows me, knows that this is one of the verses I try to live by, and model my heart after. It’s a verse that has been a banner over my relationship and a mantra through some really hard decisions. There is no fear in love.

Growing up, I had very few worries. I was always that happy, go-lucky kid who just wanted to have fun and enjoy life with friends and family. My mom even told me of a time in a store parking lot, where I was walking and flailing my arms around without a care in the world. Before she could stop me, I went up to a random man and wished him a happy birthday. I had no idea if it was the man’s birthday, but that didn’t stop me. That was who I was.

Over the past week, I’ve been following a devotion through Isaiah 43, asking questions that both cause me to read between the lines and give me pause to listen to what God has to say about this beautiful love letter in scripture. And in this passage, God addresses one of the most common yet subjective, sneaky yet guttural emotions in the human experience: Fear.

My eighth grade experience was easily the worst year of my life, from beginning to end. I found myself isolated when I was the only one from my friend group that transitioned to advanced placement classes. I found myself further isolated when all of my friends ended up having the same lunch hour and free periods since they were all in the same classes. Every single day, I dreaded going to the cafeteria, because that meant I had to solve the awful dilemma of where to sit daily.

At the start of a new year, we tend to think that we should be living amazing lives. If you are, that’s great! If you aren’t, I want to first tell you that it’s okay, but I also want to challenge you with a question: What are you measuring your success by?

I was on my way to the pharmacy when the walls started to close in. At first, I ignored it. I live about three minutes away from my destination. I thought I could hold the line against the hurricane that was beginning to spin inside my mind. But that’s the thing: anxiety waits for no one. I was a newly-minted college grad, stuck in a career that brought me no joy, and I had no idea how to tell anyone that I felt lost. I didn’t want to be the floundering girl that couldn’t adjust to adult life. I didn’t want people to see that I was miserable most of the time.