Let me tell you: This verse has been a process within my heart this week, so I guess the best place to start is the inspiration for what is shaping up to be a series centering around our key verse for today. I am writing to you at my work desk on my first day back from a girls weekend trip to Asheville, North Carolina. On my first day there, my mom and I decided to take on the big tourist attraction in the area: the Biltmore Estate. For those who don’t know, this colossal mansion and its surrounding acres of property are known as the largest private home in the world. Built by the Vanderbilt family (yes, the shipping and railroad empire you learned about in high school American history), it’s one of the best looks we have back into the lifestyles of the rich and famous just before the turn of the century.

Do you ever find yourself feeling like you are surrounded; like you feel like you need to be scared of everything? Life can be so overwhelming at times, it feels like it completely encompasses you day by day. We have all been there, and when you are feeling that way– when you are letting the world invade your thoughts and emotions– you are forgetting the who God made you. You are forgetting the platform that you stand on each day and how the Lord arms us with his love and strength.

To me, the armor of God was a cutesy Sunday school lesson. You know the one– complete with a coloring ditto, felt board lesson, and a foam craft. It was a practical analogy that was beaten to a dead horse when I was a child. But don’t you love when God turns things on their head? Recently, I was in a Bible study reading through Ephesians. In our final week of study, the armor of God came up as we read the last chapter. As we were discussing the passage, the Holy Spirit said to me, “You aren’t wearing and using your armor to its fullest potential because you don’t understand it.”

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here. I first heard this incredibly personal lyric on an old Brooke Fraser (now Ligertwood) CD when I was 12 years old. I remember hearing the rest of the song and feeling understood in a way I never anticipated before. Suddenly, something deep inside me felt seen and spoken for as I hungrily listened. The statement behind the lyrics comes from C.S. Lewis, the man this song is named after. His version goes a little like this: “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

First of all, if those verses didn’t make you excited to cultivate a relationship with Jesus, I’mma need you to go back and read that again. Okay, now that you’ve re-read those juicy promises from the Lord, I want you to take a second to close your eyes and remember the moment you decided to ask Jesus into your heart. Fully immerse yourself in that memory of the Holy Spirit tugging you into a love you didn’t fully understand, but wholeheartedly wanted to know. What did it look like, sound like, feel like? Was anyone else there with you, leading you in a prayer, or were you totally by yourself?