The Glass Wall

Every day, when no one was looking, the girl cleaned the glass wall. She scrubbed and she scrubbed and she scrubbed until it was clean. So clean, that no one could see the wall at all. To everyone else, the glass wall was invisible. Not even a crack or a scratch could be found on it.

Behind the wall was everything good: her Bible, Jesus, her relationship with God. You see, everyone thought that the girl had a consistent walk with God. Afterall, she was the president of her youth group at church, she went on at least two mission trips a year, and she wore t-shirts with Bible verses on them.

The girl used to feel close to God, but somewhere along the way, she confused her love for serving God with her love for Him.  She began to find her identity in the way that people perceived her. She gradually drifted farther and farther away until one day she realized that this strange glass wall had appeared and was separating her from God. No one else could see the wall, but she knew it was there.

She wondered what this wall was. Was it unconfessed sin? Perhaps it was her pride? Whatever it was, she had to cover it up. If anyone discovered that she was not who they thought she was, she would lose everything.  So every morning, she would sneak out of bed while everyone was sleeping and scrub all of the imperfections off of the wall.

When it looked perfectly clear, she would sigh in relief and go through another day, pretending that she had it all together. Day after day, this was her routine. One morning, as she walked up to the wall to begin scrubbing it, she could see Jesus on the other side and he was trying to get her attention.

At first she ignored him. She only had a few minutes to clean the wall before everyone else woke up. But Jesus persisted to try to get her attention. Finally, he put his hand up against the glass wall and for the first time, the girl stopped what she was doing. On his hand, she noticed the scars from the nail that had pierced him when he died for her on the cross.

Her heart was heavy with shame and grief. She knew Jesus had died for her, and she chose to follow him a long time ago. The girl used to talk to Jesus every morning. Not always about serious things- but about everything: her dreams for the future, funny things that happened to her at school…she told him everything. But ever since that wall appeared, she had been so busy keeping it clean, that she hadn’t taken the time to talk to Jesus. Every day he would stand there, waiting, hoping for her to at least look at him. But the girl was too focused on keeping up her good appearance that she ignored him.

But on this particular day, the girl looked into Jesus’ eyes and her own began to fill up with tears. She missed him so much and wanted more than anything to climb in his lap and stay there forever. She knew what she needed to do.

From the ground, she picked up a jagged rock. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and threw the rock with all of her might at the glass wall. At first, there was just one tiny hole in the wall. But within seconds, the glass began to crack and it shattered into millions of pieces. As the wall crashed to the ground, the girl gasped in air as if she was breathing for the very first time. Something amazing had changed within her the moment the wall was shattered!

She ran as fast as she could toward Jesus. It didn’t matter to her that she had cuts on her feet from stepping on the glass. She ran and she ran, straight into his arms. Jesus picked her up and spun her around. He was delighted to have her back! He treated her wounds and bandaged her feet as they caught up on the years they had lost.

The girl was so happy to be back with Jesus, without the glass wall separating her from him. She had forgotten how much better it was to be in his presence than to be on the other side of the wall, pretending to be perfect. She was so excited to be with Jesus that she didn’t even notice when people began to walk by. Of course, they noticed the glass all over the ground. And they saw that the girl had bandages on her feet.

But the girl didn’t care. Now she realized that it was better to have a few scrapes and scars and be with Jesus, than to be separated from him and appear to be perfect. Because when it comes down to it, no one is perfect after all. Jesus loved her even when she forgot about him. When she defined herself in things other than him, he was still knocking on the wall, hoping for her to notice him.  

The girl’s life changed that day. She no longer had to scrub and scrub and scrub the glass wall to make it clean. Instead, she talked with Jesus every morning. In fact, she talked to him all day long. And every day when she saw the fading scars on her feet, she vowed that she would never, ever, allow that glass wall to separate her from Jesus again.  

Her life was so abundant now that she could freely admit that she wasn’t perfect and just dwell in Jesus.  She would never return to her life behind the glass wall.

A Different Kind of Birthday

It's easy to be selfish on your birthday. It's the one day a year that it's all about Y-O-U.

It's expected that you'll have streamers on your door, be treated to meals and coffee, blow out candles, and get  phone calls from all of your friends and family.

Though I enjoy all of these things and always feel super special, I've seen a common pattern in my life. On my birthday, I am consumed with myself...(and funfetti cupcakes).

So this year, I wanted to do something different. It just so happened that there was a day-long conference going on in the Tenderloin (see blog post below to hear about the Tenderloin) on March 10th. Perfect! Two of my good friends accompanied me and we headed off to San Francisco that morning for a day of worship and service.

600 Christians had gathered together to worship God and take his love into the hurting streets of the city. My team delivered hot meals to people in their apartment buildings. As I walked up the creaking steps, I wondered if I would fall through. I knocked on each door, anxious to see who would answer it and what their story would be. Most of the people I met that day were hungry, lonely, and empty. Their living conditions broke my heart. Of all the developing countries I've been to, I think these apartments were the worst I've seen. Cockroaches scurried across the floors with missing boards, the walls were coated in mold, and a terrible smell ran through the whole building. This was their home.

My eyes welled up with tears as I saw their faces and got a glimpse of how God's heart must ache for them. One man wept as my teammates prayed for him. He said he was so very lonely and didn't have any friends there. Perhaps God sent them to his room, not just for a hot meal, but so he could have someone to talk to.

Other members of our group were scattered around the Tenderloin doing different projects. From flash mob worship, to block parties, to sports camps- we had the district covered. One group set up a foot washing station where people could come get pedicures and makeovers. Then they could pick out some clothes and groceries for their families. We hope that people encountered Jesus that day.

Sometimes it's easy to feel good about yourself when you do something like this. It's satisfying to be able to meet a tangible need that someone has. While there's nothing wrong with feeling good, we must realize that we are not doing a "good deed" when we do these things. This is what we are commanded to do. It's not like we get extra jewels in our crown. It's a basic call of every Christian to feed the hungry, and clothe the naked. In fact, when we don't do these things, we are neglecting the Gospel.

So what's the point?


A man approached us on the street as we were carrying boxes full of meals and asked what we were doing. When we told him, he responded with a grunt "Oh, so you're just making them more lazy."

That comment sent my brain into a spiral of thoughts about why we were doing these things in the first place. Was it really to help them, or was it just a way to make ourselves feel better? As good-intentioned as it was, the hot meals that we passed out on Saturday are not helping those people today. It may have sustained them for a few hours, but today they are most likely hungry again. So what's the point? The point is that Jesus loves them. And feeding them, clothing them and washing their feet is a tangible, practical way that we can demonstrate that love to them.

The more I thought about it the more I realized that I didn't agree with that man's statement. Some of those people were so bad off that they couldn't physically get out of their homes and get food on their own. We may not have been able to satisfy their physical hunger, but they encountered Jesus and were left with the Gospel presentation printed on their food box. Who knows how God will continue to work long after we left their homes.

So this year my birthday looked a lot different. In fact, I didn't even really think about the fact that it was my birthday all day. But I liked it that way. It was so cool to see the body of Christ come together and serve our city. Even though I didn't eat funfetti cupcakes, it was my best birthday yet!

Drug Dealers, Pimps, and Lessons Learned

I felt like I was walking through the streets of Hell.

Sleeping bodies lined the streets, making it like a maze to walk through. I brushed shoulders with drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes…you name it. Spiritual darkness weighed heavily on me as I took in my surroundings.

Could this really be what life is like just 15 miles away from the fairytale-ish place I live?

It was Friday night and I was in the Tenderloin district of San Francisco with a group of my fellow Seminary friends. The Tenderloin is notoriously known for its crime, drugs and seedy culture. My friends had been going out regularly to do evangelism there, and I was excited to join them for the first time.

“That corner over there is where most of the drug deals take place,” my friend informed me. Sadness crept into my heart and stayed there for most of the night.

I didn’t know what to expect or how I would approach the people, but I had a strange sense of confidence and security. I knew God created those people and loves them and I had no fear in being there. We were carrying around socks to pass out to people who needed them. But we were informed not to give socks to men wearing new, nice shoes. Those were the pimps. They didn’t need socks.

But Victor needed socks. We met Victor as he was rummaging through the trash, looking for something of value, or something to eat. The first thing I noticed was his cross necklace (and his t-shirt with Obama’s face on it).

“Would you like some socks?” we asked with a smile.

He gladly accepted them and we chatted with him for a few minutes. He accepted Christ two years ago and says he has stayed out of prison since. As we walked away I couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to trust in God and yet still have to dig through the trash every day to find a way to survive. What would my faith be like if I lived like that?

Then we met Ted. After proposing to marry the three of us girls, he explained that he used to be the biggest drug dealer in the area, claiming that he made $1000 a day. His one-legged friend, Papa, sat in a wheelchair next to him, skeptical of everything we said about Jesus. Even if they didn’t agree with us, Ted said, “I can feel some kind of good spirit in you girls.”

Aaron is a sweet store-owner from Fiji. We talked to him for about an hour about his religious beliefs. He is Hindu, but believes that all roads lead to heaven. He loves Jesus…and Krishna…and many other Gods. Listening to him made me wish I had paid more attention in my World Religions class in undergrad. How do you share the Gospel with someone who already believes in Jesus but is convinced He isn’t the only way? My friend eloquently shared a story from the Bible with him. He wants to sit down with us to talk about it sometime.

These are just a few of the 37,000 people who live in the Tenderloin district. They are lonely, mentally unstable, hungry, desperate, angry, addicted, wasted, and in need of a savior. When I looked into their eyes, I sensed darkness and sadness.

I wish I could hear all of their stories. Yes, today they are drug dealers and pimps, but what were their lives like before? What happened to Ted when he was a little boy? Surely Victor hasn’t always dug through the trash. Something must have happened along the way that brought him to this point.

One man said to us, “This here is the end of our lives. We’re stuck here and there’s no hope of things gettin’ any better.”

But praise God this is not true! The Bible says, “If anyone is in Christ, He is a NEW creation. The old is gone, the new has come!” He can take the most sinful, “terrible” person and wash them white as snow through the power of his cleansing blood.

One of the lessons I took away from the Tenderloin is that those people are no worse than I am. We have ALL sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. The only difference between me and them is that I have recognized my sins and trusted Jesus to cover them. How I long for those dear people to experience God’s mercy and grace, just like I have.

People like this aren’t just in the Tenderloin. There are hurting, lonely people all over this country and all over the world. So many weekends I relax and go out to eat and watch movies. While that isn’t bad, it seems so pointless now that I’ve seen the contrasting, hurting world that exists right across the bay. So where is your Tenderloin? Are you willing to step out and go?

We are called to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Let’s go shine it in the darkest places. 

Singleness: Why I'm okay with it

My eyes were blinded by the sparkling diamonds that were on every left ring finger in the room except for mine.

I was hanging out with some old college friends and after a few moments of conversation, I suddenly felt out of place. Talks of in-laws and diaper bags faded into white noise as I entered my own little world of thoughts.

It was strange to think that a few years ago, these friends and I were experiencing life together. Now they had husbands and some had children. I was still very single and didn’t know how to relate to them anymore. Of course I still cared about them and enjoyed their company, but I just felt…different.

“So…any prospects for you? I mean, time is ticking!”

I snapped out of my daydream as my friend jokingly directed this question at me.

I casually replied, “Well, you know, I’m really content being single and don’t know if I’ll get married. I’m cool with it either way.”

You could almost hear crickets chirping in the background and from the looks on their faces, I wondered if I had suddenly developed three heads.

Someone quickly changed the subject, but the awkwardness of the conversation still lingered in the air. I was dumbfounded.

Why was it so appalling that someone could actually be content being single?

I’ve found that young adults, especially in the Christian community, feel a pressure to find “Mr. or Mrs. Right” before life can truly begin. Even worse, we’re made to think that in order to fulfill God’s will, we must first have a spouse.

I totally disagree.

I think marriage is wonderful and a beautiful representation of God’s love for the body of Christ. However; it simply isn’t the answer to our loneliness and life purpose.

Getting married will not solve all of life’s problems. Our satisfaction must be found in Christ alone.

Singleness is not a curse

When I tell people that I’m single, I get a lot of different responses. Some will say, “Well you know, they say it happens when you least expect it!” or, “Oh….I’m sorry honey, I’m sure God’s got the perfect one for you out there somewhere.” I’ve occasionally gotten the blatant, “Well why not? You need to get out there and join one of those dating websites.”

It’s hard to know how to respond to some of those comments, but I usually try to do it as gracefully as possible. As much as I appreciate their concern, I want people to understand that I honestly am content and don’t want people to feel sorry for me.

Singleness is not a curse. There’s nothing wrong with it. It doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty or aren’t cool enough for a guy to pursue you. I think it simply means that for this season of life, God wants to have you to Himself. I actually prefer to see singleness as a blessing.

The way I see it is that this is a time in my life that I can have the freedom to travel the world and explore and discover who God created me to be. When I feel led to move somewhere, I have nothing holding me back. I want to treasure these years and truly live life to the fullest.

Being married used to be something I would dream about as a little girl. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that marriage is not the end-all be-all. If it happens one day, I’m sure it’ll be great and I will love it. However; the reality is that it might not happen and surprisingly that really doesn’t upset me anymore.

Marriage is not my ultimate goal in life. Just like everything else on this earth, marriage is temporary. My ultimate goal in life is to glorify God and to tell others about Him. If I can bring Him more glory as a wife and mother, then I’d love to get married one day. But if I can glorify Him more by staying single, I will gladly stay this way.

Instead of moping around feeling sorry for myself, I choose to be confident in who God created me to be. Whatever the future holds, I choose to rejoice, knowing that either way God is in control. So don’t feel sorry for me, friends! I’m loving life and am living it up…even though I don’t have a shiny diamond ring on my finger.

Sister Hashinka

I can still see her big brown eyes and dark black hair weaved into two braids. It's been two years since I was in Sri Lanka, but Hashinka's face comes to my mind almost daily.

Hashinka in 2006

I wonder what she is doing. Is she still in school? Is she already married? Has anyone else come to tell her about Jesus?

We met in 2006 when I was in Sri Lanka for two months. Every week, I would come to her village to dig wells and build houses. At the time, she was 13 and I was 19. She became my little Sri Lankan sister. We had a blast together.

When our van rolled up the dirt path, she would run outside barefooted and wave with a huge smile on her face. I'd always look forward to going into her house and having tea with her and her mom. We didn't speak the same language, so we acted most things out. We had inside jokes and would laugh til we cried!

At the end of that summer, I was heart broken to leave Hashinka and the rest of my friends. It was mutual. Hashinka's mom told me that they night after I left, she could hear Hashinka weeping in her room in the middle of the night.

The last thing I wanted to do was go back to my comfortable life in America when I had developed such a deep friendship with such an unlikely person on the other side of the world. Only God could have orchestrated a friendship between two people so culturally different who didn't even speak the same language!

That year we wrote letters back and forth. Mostly our letters were just drawings. Every time I would see a red, white and blue envelope in my mailbox, I couldn't open it fast enough, knowing it came from Sri Lanka.

The next summer, I went back to visit Hashinka and my other precious friends on that South Asian island. We picked up right where we had left off, as if no time had passed.

Hashinka and her mom, Malanie, in 2007

She had matured so much in the past year and was even more beautiful. Hashinka's spirit is so sweet and calm. It was fun to walk into her home that year and see photos of us on her wall. I knew then that we had both remembered each other every day throughout the past year. When it came time to leave that summer, it was even harder. I didn't know how long it would be before I would see her again. It broke my heart to get on the airplane and leave my beloved island. 

saying goodbye to Hashinka in 2007

It ended up being three longs years before I was able to visit Hashinka again. I can't describe the feeling I had when I pulled up into her village that day. She had no idea I was coming and I had no idea if she even lived there anymore. I nearly jumped out of the van before it had stopped. This was the moment I had dreamed of for the past three years. 

First I saw her mom, and before I knew it she was running back to her house and came back with 17-year-old Hashinka, who had turned into such a beautiful young woman. Our reunion was short but sweet. On that trip I was able to share the story of Jesus with Hashinka. Through the years, she had been a constant prayer for me. I had told her about Jesus before, but this time she listened intently and we both cried. My heart ached for her to know Him. It was like God had given me His heart for her and I was overwhelmed by how much He loved her.

When I said goodbye that summer, I left with a peace, knowing that Hashinka knew about God's love for her. It's been two years now and I still wonder if she has chosen to know Him. I pray daily that God will draw her to Himself so that my sweet sister can experience. Him.

Stormy Sea of Galilee

The wooden boat rocked back and forth as the waves tossed violently beneath us. Dark grey clouds threatened to swallow the sun and the wind encircled our small boat with huge gusts.

I was on the Sea of Galilee with a few of my professors and a group of friends. We huddled around Dr. Pate as he read the story where Jesus calmed the Sea. Suddenly the Bible story I grew up hearing in Sunday School had come to life.

"One day He and His disciples got into a boat, and He told them, "Let's cross over to the other side of the lake." So they set out, and as they were sailing He fell asleep. Then a fierce windstorm came down on the lake; they were being swamped and were in danger. They came and woke Him up, saying, "Master, Master, we're going to die!" Then He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waves. So they ceased, and there was a calm. He said to them "Where is your faith?" They were fearful and amazed, asking one another, "Who can this be? He commands even the winds and waves, and they obey Him!" Luke 8:22-25

For perhaps the first time, I understood the humanity of the disciples. Being on a boat in the middle of the Sea is not exactly my ideal place to be during a storm. I can see why they were afraid. I totally identified with them as I listened to the words of this story.

I peered over the edge of the boat and imagined how Peter's heart must have been pounding when he dipped one foot in the water...and then the other, in order to walk toward Jesus in another Bible story. It blew my mind to think that I was looking at the same water where those miracles took place.

Would I have the faith to step out onto the water like he did?

The great thing about both of those stories is that Jesus was there for his disciples. When they were afraid, Jesus commanded the wind and waves to stop. When Peter took his eyes off Jesus and focused on the raging waves around him, he began to sink. But Jesus reached out His hand, caught hold of him, and said, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"


I wonder how many times Jesus has said this to me. When I worry about the future, when I get anxiety about finances, when I take my eyes off of Jesus and am distracted by the things of this world. I can just see Jesus reaching down to pick me up and saying, "Meredith, why did you doubt?"

He is always there. When we get afraid and when we take our eyes off of him, He is always ready to pick us up. It took a stormy day on the Sea of Galilee to remind me of this.

My First Love

When did I lose my first love?

It didn't happen overnight; I didn't see it coming. But recently I've found myself feeling extremely homesick for God. Of course, He is always there. But I easily find myself slipping farther away from Him and getting lost in my own world of comfort and self-reliance. Some days I don't think much about Him until I'm crawling under the covers at night and remember to read a few Bible verses as I quickly fade into a deep sleep.

The other day I was at my parents' home and I found my cherished box of old journals hiding under my bed. I sat on the floor of my old room for hours and read through the pages of all 20+ journals while laughing, crying, and marveling at God's hand on my life through the years.

Reading through some of the things I wrote in middle and high school made me miss the faith I had back then. I trusted God completely and had such a pure passion for Him. I wanted more than anything to share His love with others. When I first realized my deep love for God as a young teenager, I couldn't get enough of Him. I would sleep with my Bible tight to my chest every night, wanting to soak up all that I could. I beamed with joy when my friends at school would ask me about my faith, and I didn't care about money or possessions or anything (for the most part :).

I know that the core of me still has those same desires. I still love Jesus so much, but I guess my light just feels a litter dimmer now. As I'm becoming more of an adult, my focus on Jesus has been clouded by the need to make money, get a higher education, make plans for the future, etc. These things are not bad, but I have gradually allowed them to replace my first love without even realizing it.

As I read Revelation 2:1-7 tonight, I was convicted of my sin:
"...I know your works, your labor, and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate evil. You have tested those who call themselves apostles and are not, and you have found them to be liars. You also possess endurance and have tolerated [many things] because of My name, and have not grown weary. But I have this against you: you have abandoned the love [you had] at first. Remember then how far you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first. Otherwise, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place- unless you repent..."

How easy it is to go through the motions of serving God simply out of habit rather than out of love for Him. I want to return to my first love...I will return to Him.

I'm tired of pretending to love God more than I actually do. I'm tired of using empty words with no actions to back them up. I'm tired of intending to spend more time with God, but never following through. And I'm tired of depending on my past experiences to define my relationship with God today.

I desire to have a constant, daily, exciting relationship with the Lord. I want to hunger and thirst for His Word. I want to sit at His feet and marvel at His beauty. I want every breath that I take, every word that leaves my lips, and every dream that I have to glorify God. Even if it means giving up my possessions or my comfort or my reputation. I would rather give up everything than abandon my first love.

Father, forgive me for fading into a state of complacency. "Restore the joy of Your salvation to me, and give me a willing spirit." (Ps. 51:12)