Something Small, Something Simple

I shared a couple weeks back about feeling cranky with my faith. Some of this stems from some things in my church that may not be to my personal preference. Most of it stems from a personal pursuit of God that was too narrow and self-focused.

It’s easy for my heart to go from discerning and deep-thinking to cynical and critical, and I was seeing evidence of this in my relationship with God. So much felt like thrill-seeking—the next conference, the next bible study, the next coffee with a mentor—that would bring the insight, depth, or change I was aching for. But God is not a spiritual crack dealer.

God is found in the simple and small—the word, prayer, and community. And so a journey to find personal liturgy began.

…And slowly crashed and burned.

Reading James K.A. Smith’s You Are What You Love was insightful, bringing words to feelings and longings I’ve held in my faith life for so long. The book is a call back to small daily practices that realign us with God’s story. It’s a call to look at our habits and what they point our hearts to and retraining our habits to point to the gospel—what we truly want to love. It’s looking for liturgy in the everyday.

Thing is, the book was on the philosophy of this more than the practice. So what do daily liturgies look like for a single girl in an evangelical church?

Honestly, I still don’t know. What I do know is this:

I operate better under structure, though I try to avoid it to keep my autonomy

Autonomy is not biblical, and that is something I’ve had to examine and accept. Having a structure to my days and weeks helps me to function better and live healthier. Having habits to look to from the outset keeps me from feeling lost or purposeless. It instead brings focus and shape.

I love my job and the flexibility it brings, but I also acknowledge that it is an opportunity to steward my time and habits well and I want to do so in a way that welcomes community. Not in a way that hordes my autonomy.

Prayer is not passive, but is, in fact, the most powerful thing we can do

Prayer was something I did in a prayer journal when I had plenty of time to write out long prayers by hand in a prayer journal. So guess what was the first thing to go out the window when life got busy?

So, yes, I still love those extended times of prayer, but I’ve also found that I want to form habits that allow me to pray without ceasing. When a friend I haven’t talked to in a while comes to mind, I pray for them. When something on the news stirs my hear to be anxious, I pray about it. When I’m at a loss, I pray.

Not all the time, but enough that this is becoming second nature, rather than just some new thing I’ll try for three days and forget about.

The church is built when the body of Christ is down on it’s knees

Yes, spiritual formation can happen in big arenas with flashy speakers. But lasting change and discipleship happens in the quiet moments alone, between the word and prayer.

I can think I know what is right for myself, or the church, or society at large, but I am so often wrong. Starting my day with prayer and time in the bible rather than the news or my email inbox brings a different rhythm to my days.

I have started reading Seeking God’s Face each morning and am grateful for the reminder of who God is and what his heart is for every morning. The book pairs a psalm and passage of scripture with prayer prompts and excerpts from various books of prayer. It also guides you through the seasons of the Christian year—something very new to this baptist girl.

This habit has been refreshing and grounding.

I’ve found that seeking to live in God’s story is not something glamorous or earth-shattering—not in the day-to-day. It’s small, it’s simple, and it’s so very necessary.

How are you seeking small and simple habits to point you back to God’s story?


From Where I Draw My Water


“The ultimate essence of evil—the root, the spring, what makes evil evil—is that we have lost a taste for God.”

I nearly walked off the back of the treadmill as I heard John Piper’s words during the Passion livestream this January.

I had known for a while that I have placed things ahead of God, whether intentional or not. I was aware of the wrongness of that, of course. But to be told that I have committed the ultimate evil—that made me take a few step back…quite literally and almost to my detriment.

Piper was digging into Jeremiah 2, a passage that God has kept pulling me back to the last four months.

Be appalled at this, you heavens,
    and shudder with great horror,”
declares the Lord.
“My people have committed two sins:
They have forsaken me,
    the spring of living water,
and have dug their own cisterns,
    broken cisterns that cannot hold water.

I have lost a taste for that which brings life and I have instead turned to an empty well. I have exchanged that which will quench my thirst, for that which will continue to suck from me until I am dead. I have looked for life where there is none to be had, when the spring of living water is right in front of me. This—Piper says—is the ultimate root of evil. From this, every other sin is permitted to live.

Guess what, friends? I have been so thirsty for so long.

I love what Jesus offers the woman at the well in John 4:

“Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again,  but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

She asks him to give her this water so she does not have to return to the well. Gently—oh so gently—Jesus invites her to unload her brokeness. He tells her he is looking for worshipers in spirit and truth.

He is looking for worshipers who drink from his fountain and he wants her to be one. Her, a woman in a culture that gave women little standing, a woman of a race intended to be his enemy, a woman who had let her hunger for life and acceptance lead her to many unfulfilling lovers. And he talks with her, he steps into her world, into her broken-cistern, dying-of-thirst life and invites her to drink of something better.

He invites us to something better as well. He invites us to drink deep from the freedom he offers. Freedom for money, beauty, power, acceptance. Freedom to not be enough, yet find enough in him.

Jesus is in the ministry of enough-ness. What is offered from his well is the only thing that will bring us life and, trust me, it is enough.

Jennie Allen’s latest book Nothing to Prove has been a great tool for encouragement as I have sought to revive a thirst for God in this season. As she explores the book of John, I was struck by not only God’s beautiful offering to satisfy our thirst, but to be more than enough. If my thoughts here or in my previous post on the topic interest you, I would highly recommend picking up her book!

Loving Ugly and Struggling Pretty


I’ve noticed recently that I take grace with a grain of salt.

I don’t know when this became the case, but for a while now, I’ve been behaving on the instinct that though I believe in God’s great mercy, I haven’t quite earned it, so I can’t quite rest in it.

Um…miss the point much?

But this has been the understanding I’ve been unconsciously shouldering! And as result of not understanding grace, I have not accepted grace, and not accepting grace, I have become terrible at offering it.

See, I have an unfortunate heart. We all do.

Ugly and scraggly. A little scabby, a little slimy. Small and dying—no life to pump in, no life to pump out.

When I’ve thought about surrendering my whole heart, I’ve always felt guilty about the parts I haven’t wanted to hand over. But those weren’t the only parts God wasn’t getting because somewhere along the line, I made an assumption.

I decided that there were pieces of my heart God didn’t want.

For so long, I have been handing him pieces as I’ve deemed them fixable, while feeling guilty for having parts I think are too far gone. I’ve been frustrated when I am unable to fix my own brokenness or clean my own heart-junk.

I’ve  tried to hide it or compensate for it for so long, but I’m tired. And I just long for someone to love my ugly.

But he wants those bits just as badly as I want them to be loved! He wants this shriveled, crusty little heart enough to die for it.

He longs for our ugly, dirty, and broken. There is nothing to redeem in perfect, whole, and shiny. There’s no dependence on him in what I insist on healing myself.

Penny & Sparrow is a folk duo I’ve really come to respect. (Stick with me, it’ll circle back. I promise.) Their music is beautiful and at times surprising. Their lyrics are thoughtful and so damn honest it sometimes hurts.

As I’ve been wrestling in my brokenness over the past few weeks, it has become apparent that God has been trying to get my attention—he has been trying to ask for my ugly heart again and again. A stanza of their song ‘To Haunt, to Startle’ has come to mind during this wrestling, God reminding me of his invitation.

So, choke back smoke and cough up glass…
This whole place is ending; know that it’s not built to last.
When you hear nothing…
And you feel less…
Your struggle is pretty,
Sit still, and know that I know what is best.

The pain in the ugly both within and without are temporary. We are invited into something lasting. We are invited to hand over small, battered hearts in a daily struggle. It is that struggle that God finds pretty. It is in the wrestling he is well pleased. It is in the stillness he begins to bind our wounds.

This is the gospel I’ve had to preach to myself over and over in the past few weeks. It’s the gospel we need to preach to ourselves daily.

So on this Labor Day, as we pause and rest before plunging in again, I want to invite you in to stillness. I want to invite you to remember that your ugly is loved and your struggle is found pretty.

Loving Ugly quote

A Year in Social Wilderness

I know things from Bohemia have been pretty silent and I should probably apologize for that and unpack what’s going on here.

At the close of last year, I was finding myself distracted, disappointed, and disquieted. I was desperately in need of rest and I really had no idea where to find it. I would spend time in the word, but that time would barely sustain me and I had no idea what the problem was.

Until I was confronted with my view of God.

I was attending a conference in Atlanta and found myself sobbing next to my bed in the hotel taking in the knowledge that the Almighty wants my attention.

And you’re probably reading this going, “Duh, Lex,” but really, this struck me at my core.

There have been so many times in the last few years I have been scrolling through Facebook feeling discontent because my life isn’t as glamorous or godly or phenomenal as my “friends” lives appear in the news-feed. And I scoff at the life I have been given and strive to make it appear to be more. More exotic, more fabulous, more… in my control.

In the midst of that striving, my time with God lacks quality because I’m not there. Because I am half-heatedly praying for Him to make my life my version of great all while scheming to make my little patch of ordinary look extraordinary to the online world.

The Almighty God wants to spend time with me and I am trying to just fit him in.

I ignore the creator of the universe because I just don’t have the time for him.

And this struck me in a very tender place and the only thing I could manage to do after the conference that night was to wander back to my hotel room and bow before Him on the floor of my hotel room and cry.

So what does this have to do with the lack of online presence?

Currently I am a month into a year long hiatus from my personal social media accounts… ironic for a social media marketer…(Obviously, I will be keeping up with accounts for work, but my personal channels will continue to be silent for the year.) I’m spending my twenty-third year without use of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest… and LinkdIn for that matter, but let’s be honest, who uses LinkdIn?

I want to make time and space for the Lord and the interests he has given me to pursue. I want to remove the temptation to wallow in my discontent that is stirred up by my time online. I want to push past my tendency to relate on a shallow level through and only virtual presence.

After the Israelites were delivered from Egypt, God guides them in the wilderness, explaining what it is to be his Holy people and who he is as their God. He forms them in the space of the wilderness and that is what I am seeking in this year: space and silence for the sake of formation.

This is not a fast, but a break to restructure the way I live my life and the view I have of God.

This is not something I expect other people to stick to. I struggle with discontent and that is intensified through Facebook and Pinterest. I do not see other people struggling in the same way so please understand that if you are using social media, I am not writing this to condemn you in anyway.

I’m writing this to apologize for my lack of posting as of late and to explain how this will work moving forward.

I will continue blogging throughout this year, but it will be reduced to bi-weekly posting. I will spend one post a month describing what this year off the social media grid is stirring in me and another discussing whatever is on my mind per usual.

This will be the last post I promote via my social channels, so from here on out, if you’d like to share one of these posts with friends on your own channels, I definitely encourage it. If you’d like to comment, please do! I try to respond to comments on a post within twenty-four hours… though I make no promises.

I am excited to see what this year will bring as I enter into this adventure with the Lord. I have already been able to pick up my writing more and spend time reading and meditating.

The wilderness is quiet, but that is not a bad thing at this point.

I’ll keep you updated as the journey continues.

Your Gift is Not Broken

So most likely you had an experience involving a gift in the past week. You tore into the paper and revealed some new something that someone who cares about you chose for you with care. It was a great moment. You’ve been using it all week.

And it probably wasn’t broken when you received it.

I mean, at least in my experience- unless it’s a white elephant gift exchange – you don’t usually unwrap a Christmas gift, look at the giver and say, “Thank you!… Now you’re sure this isn’t broken?”… At least I hope you don’t.

I’ve talked about my involvement with the Breathe conference in a few previous posts. This past year, I sat in a session by the fabulous Tracy Groot and was given a gem of a thought that I’ve been chewing on for the past couple months:

“God has not given you a broken gift.”

Think about the power of that statement. But before you even do that, think about how you view the gifts God has given you.

If you’re like me, you may have been told you are gifted in a certain area, or even many areas, but you don’t quite believe it. I’m not a prodigy. I’m not famous. I’m not perfect. So my “gift” isn’t super great or anything. It just kind of is.

We act as if the gifts given from God are the ugly Christmas sweater great aunt Pearl made us… The one we’ll never use, tucked back in the crevasse of the closet.

But get this: God is the giver of good and perfect gifts! (Matthew 7:10-12)

To discount the work and the passions he has given is to discount the gifts he gives.

For me, I am not a perfect writer. By any means. (If you’ve stuck around Bohemia long enough, I’m sure you’ve noticed.) But I have a gift and a calling and I must be faithful to that because it is not a broken gift despite my brokenness. It is a gift I have been given to cultivate and grow in.

What gifts have you been given? Have you been believing the lie that that gift is broken? What does it mean for you to dwell in the truth that you have been given a good and perfect gift?

The Need to be Undone

 I haven’t really felt like myself lately. I’ve been on edge, a little worried, and fairly high-strung. I’ve been a working machine with not a lot of social interaction.
It’s been wearing on me. (Yes, I’m an introvert, but quality time is my top love language… I’m a bundle of paradoxes…)
There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but I won’t get to bask in that light until the end of the month, It’s discouraging.
And don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful for the blessings of this season. But every season has its blend of good and hard.
This weekend, I was told the story of a dear friend’s hard struggle. Some of my family members have suffered some strange and unexpected losses. A new friend had to say goodbye to an important voice in his life. Two of my best friend’s lives have taken unexpected turns in a way neither of them anticipated.
There is a heaviness in joy.
And I’ve been hearing about all of this from a distance in the midst my foggy cycle of work and sleep.
Today, feeling these tensions and worries weighing on my heart, I took some time to decompress at my favorite book shop. I picked up a couple titles with one deep craving at the front of my mind.
I wanted to be undone.
I’ve wanted to read a book that leaves me breathless. I want that novel that when it’s finished, I have to just sit for a long while and ponder what mastery I just took in.
I’ve had this experience before.
The longing for this kind of story has become more intense as my workload has begun to take over my life and I’ve had to put other things aside to accomplish my tasks.
God has been so faithful in the midst of this new stage. He is holding my hand in the middle of lots of changes and new experiences. I am thankful. Please Please do not discount my great gratitude for where I am. I am also tired.
I have lost a spark. A little bit of myself. My soul had been a little drier and my heart a little less passionate and at the end of the day, I think on this and am wearied,
Because here is the thing:
I haven’t written over a month. I haven’t read any fiction in even longer,
And as such, I have not been myself for a few weeks now.
I’ve been neglecting a part of my heart in which was wired to thrive.
I’ve been wanting to be undone. I’ve been looking for a story to suck me in, hold up a mirror to my heart and the world. I’ve been looking to be convicted; I’ve been looking to be ruined. Ruined by characters and words; metaphors that cut me to the quick with their beauty and honesty.
What’s the deeper reality of that longing?
I’ve been looking for God to do the same.
My heart has been longing for time with my Father. Time I’ve neglected in the business of the newness of my life, I’ve felt that longing for a while now and it wasn’t until I began to seek out the longing that I began to realize how much I’ve been missing that extended time in the quiet. Almost more than my time with good story. I’ve been missing being part of a bigger story.
Maybe you don’t get this, but I hope you do.
So often when we’re busy, we neglect interests, relationships, the cleanliness of our homes, the pursuit of our loved ones. Mostly the first thing I tend to cut out when I’m busy is quality time with God,
As a result, I am more worried, less trusting, less open, less loving. I am not myself. I am an empty shell with a misappropriated sense of longing. 
So I’m wrestling with God in this.
And I’m now armed with some books as well.
I hoping God and I can continue to move toward a balance as I move forward in this work-heavy season.
I’m trying to make the time for him to undo me on a daily basis. To fill my longings and prepare my heart for what’s ahead. For it’s in the undoing of my striving and worrying and selfishness that things start to be made whole.

It’s in the undoing of myself, that I begin to put my relationship with God and my relationships with others in their right place.

I pray that you find time for your own undoing, my friend. And in that, may you find what it is to be whole.

Joy and the Shepherd

I accompanied a friend and her wonderful family to a wedding a couple weeks ago and had such a splendid time. Everything was so beautiful and the reception was such a blast. I love dancing like a weirdo with great friends. I had not seen many of her family members in a while, so there was plenty of catching up over dinner.

While describing to her mother where I am at in life, I found myself feeling like a cheese-ball. All I could talk about was even though this season was pretty ambiguous, things were actually really great and God had been so faithful. I kept repeating how great God was in this midst of the unknown. If I was hearing me talk, I would probably have rolled my eyes. (Inwardly, of course.)

Except that I was being totally honest.

 Which was a shock to me. I was happy. No, not happy–Joyful. God has been so wonderful in the midst of all my I -don’t-know-where-my-life-is-headed-this-is-so-confusing meltdowns. He has allowed me to be angry with him and to pray through that to a place of peace and trust.

I’m not going to lie, this has been one of the most difficult seasons. It has been–and continues to be–an inward struggle. What will I choose today? Contentment or worry? Trust or control? I don’t often choose correctly. But it’s a moment by moment choice. I am always welcomed to choose to turn.

The pastor at my church spoke this week, using his grandchildren as an illustration. Last year he challenged them all to memorize Psalm 23 and to reflect on the question ‘Who are you tempted to follow as your false shepherd?’ And this wasn’t just a question they had to answer once, but think on for the entire year.

I’ve been thinking on it for the past week as I meditate on the Psalm. Who am I tempted to follow as my false shepherd?

As God and I have been wrestling for the past couple weeks, it has become very apparent that I demand control. I want things my way and in my timing. If I cannot manipulate to make that happen, I fret about all the possible outcomes and dream up ways to compensate. I become consumed by what I cannot control or have or make yield to me.

I hold a death-grip over what is not mine.

But the Lord is my shepherd! I am just a sheep. It is the shepherd’s job to provide for his sheep. To lead them beside quiet waters, to make them rest in green pastures.

He is making me rest in green pastures in this stage of limbo. To slow down and rest in what he provides and nothing more. And it’s hard. I want to get up and go and make my way. But I am just a little sheep.

I must hand over my want for control and rest up. To take in God’s grace and the wisdom from his people and his word and prepare for the unknown next. So I have begun to open up my fists and let go of what I have wrongly grasped.

And what have I found in the handing over?


I wish and pray for the same thing for you, my friend.

So what about you? Who are you tempted to follow as your false shepherd? I would love to hear in the comments or by email! Tell me your story!

Living at the end of Psalm 13

I got an email from a dear friend in January. I had been voicing to her that though my internship had ended early that I was really okay and that God had a plan and that everything was going to work out the way it was supposed to. She had told me that she was glad I knew this, but also warned me to feel what I needed to feel–to handle the disappointment for what it was–disappointment.

It has taken me a couple months to get there.
A couple weeks ago, there was a particularly bad day at work. I work at a university making copies and running errands–basically gophering all over campus. My job can be rather mindless but is quite helpful with paying bills. A co-worker was recently promoted to another department and a lot of her responsibility has fallen to me. That paired with many other stressors and the ‘tude of a student (“Yes, you do have to pay for color copies. I’m sorry if the twenty cents this will cost will do you in.”) and everything that had been brewing in my heart came to a head. There were four distinct times I daydreamed of simply walking out the door.
It was, well, a Bad. Day.
I got into the car and began to drive home. And I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I began yelling at God, crying through it.
“Why am I here? What is the point of this season if nothing is happening? Why give me that internship just to take it away? What do you expect me to get from this? Why the hell aren’t you doing anything?”
I’ll be honest, that’s the clean version.
I was mad. I was heartbroken. I was disappointed.
And then, when I was all cried out, I felt Him.
You done?
I only nodded–if someone had seen me, they would have thought me a raving lunatic.
Alright. Now we begin again.
And that was it. I was ready to start new. Repent and restart.
I read Psalm 13 and realized I had been so intent on skipping to the end. That wasn’t was David did. He didn’t start out with ‘God is great; God is good; Now we thank him for our food.’ That’s not how the Psalms work… I mean sometimes…not about food, but you know what I mean.
He begins:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?
 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

David is not stuffing the emotion or putting on a happy face. He’s not avoiding confrontation with God because he knows God is right. Even though that is completely true, he still approaches the Father with his genuine feelings.

How long will this keep going on? How long until I can have a challenge at work again? How long will I have to keep waiting for an interview? Have you forgotten I’m down here?

He wrestles through his hurt and confusion.

How long will my enemy triumph over me?Look on me and answer, Lord my God.Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

I love his boldness. “Look on me and answer.”  There is tension there. There is a desire to be with God, a desire to know what He is doing. I love that we can come to God like this and he is gracious enough to allow it. He is gracious enough to put up with my screaming and cursing in my minivan like a crazy woman. And he is gracious enough to pick up my heart afterward.

David does not get an answer. He arrives to a good place, but he does not necessarily get a divine reply.

But I trust in your unfailing love;    my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.

“I trust your love,” “He has been good to me.” That’s what I came to at the end of my one-sided screaming match with God. I trust you; you’ve been good to me. This is hard, but you know best.

I don’t think I would really have gotten there if I had continued to live like I was at the end of the Psalm. You can’t fake-it-till-you-make-it with God. He knows what is in the heart and he wants to wade through that with you.

I am so thankful for his grace and his desire to be in relationship with me. So we move forward. Repent and restart.

The Obstacles to My Enjoyment

The weekend after I was laid off from the internship, I led on a youth retreat. Not exactly how I wanted to spend that weekend. I would have preferred to spend those couple days wrapped in self-pity and a blanket in bed with kleenex and what was left of my chocolate supply.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my girls! But I felt like I had just come off of one of the more hellish weeks of my life. Not only had I been laid off, but I was denied a promotion at my second job. 

And I felt lost.

The speaker for the weekend presented us with a quote from Larry Crabb that put it all in perspective for me:

We cannot count on God to arrange what happens in our lives in ways that will makes us feel good. We can, however, count on God to patiently remove all the obstacles to our enjoyment of Him. He is committed to our joy, and we can depend on Him to give us enough of a taste of that joy and enough hope that the best is still ahead to keep us going in spite of how much pain continues to plague our hearts.

Let that sink in. Read it again.

God does not want me to feel good. He is not out to make my life happy. He desires so much more for us!

God has taken captive the events of our lives, even those that were meant to be broken and twisted, and is bending them to his glory! He is a passionate father, seeking to remove every obstacle in order to be in right relationship with us.

His plan cannot be foiled! His love can only be ignored for so long before we are aching for it again. He is committed to our joy. He desires us to take joy in the plan he has laid out for us. They way is going to be hard. It is not always going to be the most comfortable or even bearable at points. But it is the end goal that gives us hope.

This does not mean He expects us to be happy all the time. To be honest, I am not happy right now. I still feel lost and a little sad. But there is joy in this season. There is a quiet moment each day when I am asked to come and be still with my father. A moment to refresh myself in the joy He has given me–a moment to realize that life is not about my comfort, but my enjoyment of the father.

God is not an ego maniac, forcing us to mindlessly worship him with happy faces even when life sucks. He is a father who yearns to be in relationship with us where we are–happy, sad, downright pissed. His desire is to be enjoyed by his children through their trust in His way, even when that way gets hard and uncomfortable. His desire is to be relied on in those moments. To be given a chance to comfort and guide his children through the dark and show them the light that is ahead for them.

Therefore, since we have been justified<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(A)”> through faith,<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(B)”> we have peace<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(C)”> with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(E)”> by faith into this grace in which we now stand.<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(F)”> And we boast in the hope<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(G)”> of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings,<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(H)”> because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(J)”> does not put us to shame, because God’s love<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(K)”> has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit,<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(L)”> who has been given to us. –Romans 5:1-5

Friend, I encourage you to sit down with the father today. Remove the obstacles that are keeping you from enjoying him. Find peace and a taste of joy in that quiet moment with Him.