Hey friends! I thought I’d mix it up a bit and have some friends guest blog. This week’s blog comes to you from my dear friend, Wendi. We went to Kenya together back in 2010. Connected over a love of the people we met, over a love of words, over Georgia Southern University, and over God.

There’s a song I love that says, “I’ve been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end. But on a Wednesday in a cafe, I watched it begin again.” This says a lot about my life in recent weeks, and it makes me cry every time I hear it. Not because I don’t have love in my life, but because I’ve been struggling with depression. And when you’re depressed and feeling very much alone, hearing others say “I love you” can actually be painful because you don’t believe you deserve it. You don’t feel like you’ll ever be good enough again.

But when I hear this song, it does something in my soul. It nudges a corner of my heart where the Holy Spirit has been sitting, patiently waiting, for me to acknowledge Him. Yesterday, I found myself replacing the lyrics “All love ever does” with “All I ever do”…and then I cried a little bit more. But it was a good cry. The kind that wakes you up, pulls the ugly out from deep inside you, and releases it where it can be wiped away and tossed in the trash. I didn’t replace those lyrics with “I” because I was trying to pity myself. I replaced them with “I” because it’s how I truly felt. And saying the words aloud was a catalyst for the Spirit to do something. I imagine when we allow ourselves to express in words what we’ve only been feeling, it gives Him permission (not that He needs it, but hopefully you understand what I mean) to act on our behalf. He moves. He speaks. And because we are vulnerable, we actually listen.

The second part of that line- “But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again”- caused me to imagine my Jesus in person. Have you ever done that? Longed for Him so much that you wished He would appear in front of you? I thought about His redemptive love and ached to talk with Him over a cup of coffee. And then I saw Him in my mind. A handsome, not-so-stranger walking up to the counter, with His messy hair and kind face, and ordering a hot tea. I saw Him sit down at a corner table and stir sugar and milk into His cup. I saw myself seated far away, loving Him, but afraid, too. And then I saw Him look up and see me. He smiled, and the corners of His eyes crinkled a little, one just a little bit more than the other. I was breathless. And He motioned for me to come sit with Him.

It wasn’t a Wednesday, but I watched it begin again. I watched my relationship with Jesus unfold into something new. And I knew it was okay to love Him the way I wanted to. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I avoid Him, although all I really want is to run and jump into His arms. What is it about us that makes us afraid of the things we know we can trust? Is it simply because there is change involved and change is painful? Or is it because we don’t really believe Jesus? We know it in our heads, but we don’t know it in our hearts.

This is the challenge I face every single moment. And each time I face it, I see Jesus again at that corner table. In the place I love most with the rich smell of coffee filling the air and the sunlight streaming in through windows that need a good washing. I see Him waiting for me to come to Him. And before I know it, I’m seated in front of Him and He’s reaching for my hand. He’s smiling, like always. And I know today is going to be a good day.

You can follow Wendi at www.wendinunnery.com. She’s got things to say and I’m so thankful she wanted to help me out with this project. If you want to join in on this “Guest Blog” – just let me know. Would love to hear what you have to say.

Amanda