NIKI FLORICA

When you stop to count them, a TON of spiritual traits boil down to good ol' fashioned acts of will. Prayerfulness. Forgiveness. Thankfulness. Selflessness. Love. Even faith. We love to think of being inherently forgiving or prayerful or full of faith as if it just happens when we've been believers long enough. We look at those around us who excel in certain areas and say, "Well, So-and-So is just naturally forgiving. It's easy for her, much harder for me." We might even let

I'm usually pretty good at laughing at myself. You know, when the stakes are low. When things get stressful, though, and nobody else is laughing? Yeah, that kills my good humour. The past couple of months have marked a struggle to build competence in what I do. New tasks are always daunting, but new tasks along with the weight of dozens of people's expectations are crippling for someone like me. I wish I could say I'm a cauldron of confidence, but that would be a bald-faced l

Perspective is a gift. God knew we couldn't handle the full, grandiose scope of everything He's doing in our lives, so he gave us limited sight. A piece of the puzzle—our small, incomplete, but seemingly all-consuming perspectives of life. They're a gift in that we are not crushed by the overwhelming weight of the big picture, but Satan can use that gift and twist it to his advantage as well. C.S. Lewis' Screwtape talks about time as a spiritual thing. The present is where ti

Lost, chained, a fool, or at wit's end. Which one are you? Try finding yourself in the spectrum of Psalm 107's desperate people. Are you the lost soul wandering the wilderness, nowhere to go, hungry but not sure what for, craving a feeling of belonging? Are you the one who sits in deepest gloom, in chains of your own making? Are you the fool who turned your back on God, marched to the beat of your own drum, and now stand at death's door, crying out for help? Are you the sailo

I shy away from blogging on Easter weekends—probably because the greatest point in history needs no commentary from a first-year geek at her Macbook. It speaks powerfully enough without my help. It's Monday. Easter has come and gone, and it's amazing how neatly we tuck the climax of history—Jesus' death and resurrection, HALLELUJAH!—into one weekend. We've spent a few days appreciating it; now it's back to work. Life goes on, doesn't it? It does, but that doesn't mean that th

Funny thing about toast—when you smell it, you want it. Ever notice that? I mean, there was a time when I would sooner eat dirt than toast, and I still can't deny its magical property of being appetizing in any and every context. It's just one of those things. Innately appealing, we need only to experience a whiff of it to crave it. Something in us just wants toast. What if I told you that Jesus and toast have a lot in common? See, the Word of God calls us to follow Jesus, bu

I can happily say that my new favourite show is officially The Chosen—not only marked by quality acting, sweet costumes, killer screenwriting, and loveable characters, but also featuring Jesus. Yeah, that's right. Jesus. Need I say more? As far as cinematic Jesus depictions go, The Chosen paints my favourite picture. Unlike in the original Ben-Hur film, he is not a faceless figure who floats through scenes on strings of otherworldly music. And, unlike in the film version of T

I don't abide by everything in my psychology course, but here's a fun fact (at least as I understand it): between ages 15 and 25, the limbic system of the human brain is maturing more rapidly than surrounding sections. The result? Until roughly age 25, we tend to be ruled by our emotions. I don't know about you guys, but I'm pretty sure Mr. Psychologist is talking about me. What rules you? Is it your goals? Your logic? Your morals? Your personality? Or is it your emotions? Th

A day or so ago, I entreated heaven for clarity. I've struggled for a long time with the desire to use my passions for the Lord, but my preconceived notions of what that should look like have been and are getting in the way. I prayed for God to speak to me, to show and tell me the path I should be following and how I should move forward—if I'm to move forward at all, or else wait on more specific direction. Clarity can come in a single overwhelming downpour. Other times, it c

Jeremiah—what a book. I mean, really, what a story. Like so many of God's prophets, he was thrown into a role he felt ill-equipped for, only withstanding the hostility and depravity of his people by God's supernatural provision. I can't imagine being given a job knowing that 90% of it will feel like a waste of time. To be tasked with proclaiming a message daily that no one (almost literally) will listen to. Jeremiah was known as the Weeping Prophet. Considering the emotional

God's was the first voice I heard when I woke up this morning. He didn't speak through words, but He was among the first thoughts in my head, and as I threw back the covers, I felt joy bubbling close to the surface, risen from the deep place in me where it normally simmers under my other emotions. I have things to say today and I'm not sure what they are yet. I'm just pounding on my keys and asking God to speak through me, asking you to follow where it goes. Joy is a beautifu

I had a beautiful weekend. My brother gave his life to Christ, my other brother from a couple of provinces away was here to witness it, and God is always and ever good. One line from the sermon clung like a burr, though, a blog post waiting to happen. "God is glorifying Himself today." If I step out of my upbringing and personal relationship with Christ, I can see how words like these might send a confusing message to those who don't know God. I mean, among human beings, glor

Since making the spontaneous decision to start a brand new project for National Novel Writing Month, I've been thinking a lot about constellations. And relationships. And family. And how they all connect. It's a project I've been mentally preparing for months, but didn't think I was anywhere close to actually drafting. See, I'm the type of gal who likes to have her ducks in a row before the cursor hits the Google Doc—and I mean all in a row. I usually wait for months before I

It's National Novel Writing Month, and I'm a roiling blend of nerves and excitement and dreams of a finished product by the end of one month. And "dreams" is probably the right word—the chances of me actually writing a 50 000-word manuscript in 30 days are slim, but all the same, it's an exciting time of year, and my first time doing a November NaNoWriMo project. Over the past few months, writing has been difficult for me. My WIP series has hit some roadblocks I didn't antici

One of my favourite verses in the New Testament is: "The one who endures to the end will be saved." (Matthew 24:14) Not because it's poetic or flowery in its language, not because of its spiritual complexity, but because of its clarity, the simplicity of its promise. Endure to the end. Keep the faith to the end. Cross the finish line and don't stop or turn around or give up on the race before it's over. Endurance. I don't consider myself to be an insanely strong person, physi

It's interesting how we can petition the Lord for help with something, and then when He gives us the boost we need, we assume we can handle

I've always known what it's like to have Someone in my life who would never let me down. You'd think after all this time I'd figure out that He's the only one. I'm not a fast learner. No matter how many times I allow my trust to drop an anchor in worldly seas—in a friendship, a hobby, a passion, a person—I'm always left floundering when that anchor doesn't hold and God reminds me, once again, that He is the only one I can really, truly rely on. Maybe I don't appreciate that f

I've done it! Finally! After too many years of eyeing it on my shelf, I have completed The Pilgrim's Progress and checked it off my mental TBR. Interestingly, having now read both Part I and Part II, I can say that both pilgrimages are profound works of spiritual allegory, but Part II—Christiana's journey—struck me most deeply. The Pilgrim's Progress is the allegorical journey of a Christian on the road to Heaven, leaving all behind (including his family) to pursue the Celest

I'm sitting on the wooden swing in my backyard, under an aquamarine sky, the wooden slats warm and familiar against my back. Everywhere I look, there is movement—leaves swaying, colours changing, clouds drifting, wind dancing, my shadow rocking back and forth with the slow arc of the swing. I'm alone, and yet, I know I'm not. It's an exhilarating feeling. God is here with me. He always is, but sometimes it takes a slow swing on a sunny day to remember how close He is, how muc

Sometimes we prefer our messages minced—into soft little bite-sized pieces that go down without much thought or pain or conviction. Painless. Isn't that just the human way? To crave the sense of virtue that comes from hearing the Word preached, but shy from any obligation to be changed by it? To be convicted? This world and Satan have a grip on us, even if we're free of their condemning chains. This world and Satan nurture a love of the wrong things in us, an aversion to the