I do not have a green thumb. As a matter of fact, I have proven myself a talent at killing any plant that anyone dares give me. (Come to think of it, the pets I’ve had haven’t met such a great fate either!) Several months ago, my mom gave me a pineapple plant. And by that, I mean she gave me a cut-off top of a pineapple that she stuck in a cute little pot and left at my front doorstep. “Ha!” I thought to myself. “We’ll see how long this lasts!” As usual, I pretty much forgot I even had a plant, much less that it needed watering. Every few weeks, my daughter would remember the pineapple and practically beg me to let her go and water it. So… every few weeks our pineapple got water.

A few weeks ago, I noticed to my amazement that this little pineapple plant has grown an impressive amount! So much so, that pretty soon it will outgrow the pot it’s in. To me, this is as miraculous as the parting of the Red Sea. The very same day and by complete accident, I happen to come across an interesting piece of information: pineapples can very easily be overwatered. They only need a small amount of water every two weeks or so. Unknowingly, I had been giving this pineapple exactly what it needed!

Armed with this encouraging tidbit, I soon realized myself to be a master connoisseur of gardening. After all, my prized pineapple plant has blossomed by the mere afterthought of my attention. I hadn’t noticed until now, but plants are obviously my specialty.

And then. Then. My dad visits me and happens to point out that the “butterfly bush” on my back patio is wilting and in pretty bad shape. Well, if I can’t even remember to water the plant on my FRONT DOORSTEP, how in the world can I be expected to remember a plant on my back patio?! (This plant was a Mother’s Day gift from my sister–it has gorgeous flowers that resemble butterflies, as well as attract them.) Unfortunately, getting watered once every two weeks or so is not so good for the butterfly bush. Thankfully for this plant, I was now a master gardener and I knew just what to do! I diligently began watering my butterfly bush every single day. Without fail, every day new blooms began to emerge. Once, I missed a day of watering. With only ONE day of no water, the blooms wilted. Not to be discouraged, this little gardener kept on watering. Again, the flowers bloomed.  

Today, I came back to my apartment after being out of town for a couple of days, and the very first thing I did when I walked in the door was hand my daughter a cup of water for the pineapple plant, and set out myself towards the back patio with a large pitcher of water for my butterfly bush. It’s habit now. Because I know it’s needed.

As I was watering, it hit me. I am just like the butterfly bush! It is essential to my spiritual growth that I am consistently watered. Just one day without God’s word, and I become less healthy and more withered. But the more and more that I immerse myself in His Spirit and in His Word, I begin to blossom!

This Scripture has been on my mind for the past week:

Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers.But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.      Psalms 1:1-3

I want to GROW. I want to be fruitful. I want to be full of life, planted by rivers of living water.

I know very few ”pineapple plants” that seem to just accidentally do everything right, and grow by leaps and bounds!

Most of us… maybe even ALL of us… are more like the butterfly bush. We need consistent, daily watering–not only to grow, but even to keep us from withering away. So today, this little “gardener” is dedicating herself to a new habit. The daily watering of my soul. Because I know it’s needed.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful and I know that full well. Psalm 139:14

He made me wonderfully. Think about it. To recognize that He made me well is praise to my Creator’s ears!

He made me stubborn.

He made me a perfectionist.

He made me fiercely independent.

He made me surprisingly tenderhearted.

He made me fiesty and argumentative.

He made me different than most people.

He made me resilient and He proved it through many tough times.

Sometimes I don’t like being some of those things. Sometimes other people criticize me for being some of those things. But today I want to revel in who I was uniquely created to be. He created me this way, and his works are wonderful!  

Nature vs. nurture. It’s the age-old dilemma. Are we the result of our biology or our environment? Most people agree it’s some combination of the two. Part wonderfully made, part redeemed by His blood.

Do yourself a favor and read Psalm 139 entirely. Recognize the wonderful works of God in yourself. Stop criticizing yourself or wishing you were more like someone else. Praise Him for making you well. Then ask Him to keep making you wonderful.

Search me, oh God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there be any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139: 23-24

(Note:  the following blog is dedicated to my friend, “The Chip”.) 

I’ve been struggling with understanding how to make myself relevant to others. I love Jesus & I want to live out His message everywhere that I go. But in the past year, I’ve come into contact with so many people that have preconceived ideas (and not good ones) about the kind of message that “church people” carry. My naive little mind has always associated “church” with good, sweet things. I have been blessed to be a part of a healthy & sincere church body for all my life. Most people are not so blessed. Instead of associating “church” with the good and sweet, there are many people that associate “church” with the bad and the downright ugly. The truth is that there have been just as many casualties in Christian churches, as there have been salvations. My heart aches at the thought. My heart has ached for the past year as I have learned story after story of casualty after casualty.  

I’m a big believer in taking situations that I encounter, whether directly or indirectly, and applying the lessons learned from those situations to my own life. I have examined myself thoroughly and prayed earnestly that I would not become what so many “church people” have become: the exact opposite of Christ. I have watched and analyzed the “church people” that I surround myself with, and while some have made me proud, others have made my heart ache even more. Still harder to admit, is that I’ve found in myself bits and pieces of things that I now loathe. God is helping me to change that.

People are imperfect. People hurt people. And “church people” are no exception.

However, church people have a tendency to deliver a special class of hurt brought on by spiritual elitism. We know we’ve got it and it’s painfully obvious to us who doesn’t have it. We smile and nod, and mentally dismiss those who we think are too far gone. Or we congratulate each other on how blessed we are to “know the truth.” Innocently done, but who are we fooling? Our hidden agendas and unconscious judgments are clear to those we encounter. They have come seeking Christ, and many turn away disappointed at what they find.

Mahatma Ghandi said it best, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

We don’t even surround ourselves with people who look like Jesus. We surround ourselves with people who look like US. After all, we’ve got “it”! Who needs to worry about what Jesus had?

There’s a song that says, “My Jesus would never be accepted in my church / the blood and dirt on his feet might stain the carpet / but he reaches for the hurting and despises the proud / and I think he’d prefer Beale St. to the stained glass crowd.”

He wasn’t an elitist. Far from it.

He made himself as humbled and lowly as was possible.

He made himself to be misunderstood by the “church people” so that he could be understood by thieves, liars, and prostitutes.

There was NO ONE too far gone for Him to reach.

We were made in His image. Yet most of us worship our own images. We are our own idols. Graven images, taking glory from the One who deserves it. Look at how holy we are. Look at how “in the truth” we are! What on earth happens to us in between that moment where we are a sinner at Jesus’ feet and the moment where we decide we can start looking down on others?

So how do I make myself relevant to those who could care less for “church people”? Simple. I’m going to stop being a “church person.” It isn’t relevant. Period. Jesus wasn’t a church person. He was a people person. He spent most of His time outside of church and with the people who needed Him most.

I have this ridiculous picture of myself as an action figure. It makes me giggle, but there’s something to this thought–an action figure is simply a smaller-scaled image of a superhero. It can’t move or accomplish anything on its own. It’s just a silly toy compared to the real thing. I’m made in the image of my God, but that’s all I am. Just an image. I have no power of my own to save myself or anyone else. No power of my own to be holy or to have “it.” (Seriously…what is “IT“??)

Now available: Sarah Thibodeaux aka Miniature Jesus action figure! Let me never fool myself into thinking I’m anything other than a cheap, breakable imitation of the real Hero.

“For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” 2 Cor 4:5

So the past couple of months I’ve been… confused. I feel direction-less. Purpose-less. Restless. Searching. You get the drift. I think every person goes through this at least once, but probably several times in their life. It’s the place of a crossroads where only two things matter: “where am I?” and “where am I going?”

Recently, I got a little confrontational with God. I always need Him, but there are times when I really need Him. Like…RIGHT NOW. After pouring out my heart, this thought refused to leave me: illuminate me. I need some things to be made clear in my mind and in my heart. I need God to light up my life in such a way that the path before me is a clear one, free from stumbling.

Some religions and I think most people agree that God is some sort of ‘mystery’ that we aren’t supposed to understand. I respectfully disagree. The God that has poured His love into my life has time after time opened my mind to understand things that are above my own thoughts. He wants me to know Him, and if I ask Him, He will make things clear for me.

The very first thing that God created was light. The earth was without form and void, and God said, “let there be light.” Before He could do a work, He had to illuminate. Revelation prophesies that in heaven, there will be no night, and no other light but God. He will be the Light that we live by forever and ever.

“This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with Him yet walk in darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth.” 1 John 1:5-6

I need Your light, God. Illuminate every last corner of me. I want nothing hidden. I want no confusion… no distractions… no deceptions. No darkness at all. I want truth and I want LIGHT.

I want a taste of the Light that will illuminate heaven forever. Illuminate me. Remove the void. Form me.

Let there be light, God. Let there be light.

No! This isn’t a blog about Twitter! Although it is a good time to tell you that you can add me @SarahThib.

Yesterday morning I woke up to the annoying sound of my alarm. (I promise this story gets more interesting.) This, however, was not like every other morning. Every other morning, I would snooze at least 5 times before rolling out of bed and running around frantically getting ready so that I can be only 45 minutes late for work. This is the drill every morning. No one messes with the drill. THIS morning… before I could even snooze for a second time… I hear a sound more annoying than any alarm clock. The incessant chirping of an annoying little bird. Right outside the window that is directly next to my pillow.

Now, let me explain something. This is not a happy morning. This is a disgusting, rainy, dark, dreary morning. There is no light coming through my window. Why is this bird chirping?! Chirping birds are for sunshine-y days with rainbows and bunnies and ice cream trucks, not gross Louisiana days where it is pouring rain before 7am! What is there to sing about?! This bird should be SLEEPING.

Now for those of you that think I am going to take this story and turn it into a spiritual analogy about singing even on the rainy days, you are just as stupid as that bird.

Nothing is spiritual until 8am AT LEAST.