With being out of school every day of this new year, I haven't really been thinking much about the date. But when I stop to think about it, I get really sentimental. Twenty-ten is a big year for me. Tomorrow is a big day. I will start a new semester of high school for the last time.
Wow.
Every aspect of my life has been influenced by me being a high school student. The way I'm looked at, the way I look at me, the way I look at life, all of it is through the eyes of a high schooler. Praise God, I'm phasing out. But the past four years have been some of the best of my life. I've been blessed with amazing relationships and have had so many moments where I've physically hurt from laughing so hard. And I've dealt with some really hard stuff. I guess it comes from never really being a normal teenager, in good and bad ways. I've been hurt and I've done the hurting.
Looking back, each day has been a learning experience. I've battled the demons of self-hate, selfishness, pride, apathy, lust, distrust, and control. There were days I felt so defeated. Like every decision was a mistake. And some days I felt like I was soaring above it all. And on some days, I knew I was making it. And that was enough.
But more than being defined by my status as a high school student, I've gotten used to being evermore refined and defined as a daughter of God. My defenses have been breached by this crazy God I let in three and a half years ago, and He just won't let me go. I tried to tell Him that I'm not worth it, that He's just wasting His time. But He hasn't given up on me yet. I wonder why with every breath. But He greets me with His love in the most unexpected ways. I can't give up on Him. I'm in love. And so I can't give up on me. And that's been the first thing I've ever loved about myself, the only quality worth mentioning that I actually like about me. I love Him. And loving Him has taught me more about loving myself than loving anyone else ever has. I'm so thankful that, even in my youth, even in my inconsistencies and failures and shortcomings, the Lord has been faithful to raise me up, to mold me, to refine me.
Right now, I'm in the fire. There are times when the flood tosses you around and it's all you can do to stay afloat. And there are times when you are put through the fire, tested in every way. The Lord has been so real. So real in His presence, but also in gently and forcefully reprimanding me. He has revealed areas where I do not live as He has called me to. As a loving father, He has shown me the areas that need His healing and grace. And I have certainly clung to His grace. And satan has said to give up. That I'm not worth the effort. That no matter how hard I try, it will never be good enough. But the Lord is teaching me to offer myself grace. To settle? Never. But to be patient. It takes time to be refined. It's not like being heated up in the microwave, ten seconds and you're good. It's like refining a precious metal. It takes time and the expertise of the most gifted craftsman to make me more like Christ.
What a way to go into the new year! Broken? Yes. Defeated? No. Like the phoenix, I'm rising out of the ashes. I've got a lot of growing to do. I'm no where near done. And high school isn't over yet. I've got 5 months to soak up. But I walk into this new year, this new semester, this year of so many firsts and lasts, with hope. With a promise that my God will never leave me nor forsake me. That He's not finished yet. And that He loves me enough to see me through to completion.
Now with some words from Switchfoot:
Hallelujah, I'm caving in
Hallelujah, I'm in love again
Hallelujah, I'm a wretched (wo)man
Hallelujah, every breath is a second chance
Praise be to God for His grace, for His love, for His consistentcy. His love is better than life, His ways are magnificent and beyond human comprehension. Oh God, through the fire, through the sorrow, through the pain, may my lips glorify Your name. At the end of this, may I stand upon the mountain and say, My God, He proved to be enough. My Savior, He rescued me from myself. My Beloved, He never gave up on me.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
My Fingers Got Restless :)
Sometimes I am seized with the urge to write something.
Like right now I have so much swimming in my head that it's almost impossible to ever sit still or sleep or anything. But when I sit down to write, it all flows from some place that I don't know about and touches my fingers and suddenly complete chaos starts to make a little bit of sense. I like these moments. I like feeling like I have infinite things to say. I'm sure you, whoever you are, get quite tired of my ramblings. But I don't write for you so that's okay. :)
I love my fellow writers. When the right words fail me, when description alludes me, there is always someone else in history who can say exactly what I feel. And I feel a little less alone in my complicated thought processes and emotions. Whether it's King David, Shakespeare, Austen, the apostle Paul, Donne, Job, C.S. Lewis, these and more weave sense with their words what life would jumble into chaos.
And the beautiful thing is that none of them, not one of the greats, was ever perfect or would ever claim to be perfect. Which is wonderful because I'm a first-rate screw up. I'm passionate about relationships-that which I suck at-and I'm prone to hurt the ones I love and I do things that I don't mean. And things happen that I don't understand and all the while words fail me and emotions suffocate me until it all wells up inside and my fingers start to shake with tension until it is released with the tapping of keys.
Deep breath.
And these greats, who were not so great, who were average and down to earth and aware of life and reality, these greats help me to see things clearly. It's always okay to question God;He's big enough to handle that. There is always a resolution to the madness. Sometimes even the character who seems to be the worst (myself) gets a second chance. The prize is always worth the pain. One cannot exist without the love of others and God, and cannot give love without God. There are always hardships to test every fiber of your being, but the heart that continues to seek God will find rest. And God can heal even the deepest doubt with His grace, that it may declare His glory to many people.
And now to conclude with some quotes by writers:
There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith
You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. ~Ray Bradbury
The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. ~Anaïs Nin
The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt
Ink and paper are sometimes passionate lovers, oftentimes brother and sister, and occasionally mortal enemies. ~Emme Woodhull-Bäche
The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. ~Mark Twain
Like right now I have so much swimming in my head that it's almost impossible to ever sit still or sleep or anything. But when I sit down to write, it all flows from some place that I don't know about and touches my fingers and suddenly complete chaos starts to make a little bit of sense. I like these moments. I like feeling like I have infinite things to say. I'm sure you, whoever you are, get quite tired of my ramblings. But I don't write for you so that's okay. :)
I love my fellow writers. When the right words fail me, when description alludes me, there is always someone else in history who can say exactly what I feel. And I feel a little less alone in my complicated thought processes and emotions. Whether it's King David, Shakespeare, Austen, the apostle Paul, Donne, Job, C.S. Lewis, these and more weave sense with their words what life would jumble into chaos.
And the beautiful thing is that none of them, not one of the greats, was ever perfect or would ever claim to be perfect. Which is wonderful because I'm a first-rate screw up. I'm passionate about relationships-that which I suck at-and I'm prone to hurt the ones I love and I do things that I don't mean. And things happen that I don't understand and all the while words fail me and emotions suffocate me until it all wells up inside and my fingers start to shake with tension until it is released with the tapping of keys.
Deep breath.
And these greats, who were not so great, who were average and down to earth and aware of life and reality, these greats help me to see things clearly. It's always okay to question God;He's big enough to handle that. There is always a resolution to the madness. Sometimes even the character who seems to be the worst (myself) gets a second chance. The prize is always worth the pain. One cannot exist without the love of others and God, and cannot give love without God. There are always hardships to test every fiber of your being, but the heart that continues to seek God will find rest. And God can heal even the deepest doubt with His grace, that it may declare His glory to many people.
And now to conclude with some quotes by writers:
There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith
You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. ~Ray Bradbury
The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. ~Anaïs Nin
The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt
Ink and paper are sometimes passionate lovers, oftentimes brother and sister, and occasionally mortal enemies. ~Emme Woodhull-Bäche
The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. ~Mark Twain
Monday, December 14, 2009
Taking a Step Back
It's so easy to play the "blame game." It's so easy to throw the punches at someone else, to point out someone elses flaws and to get in their face about their problems. It's so much easier to see the way you've been hurt than it is to look yourself in the face and be real about the ways you've done the hurting.
Which is exactly what I've had to do.
I'm not gonna lie, it's been tough. Even writing about it is tough. It's hard to put words to that which proves weakness. But God has been in my face. He's relentless like that. And in the midst of Him healing my wounds and giving me the strength to stand and giving me a confidence that can come only from Him, He's been holding a mirror in front of my face. He and I see what no one else sees. Scars hidden behind walls, hidden behind veils, hidden behind masks. Hurts that have been brushed under the bed. He's been calling them out one by one and covering each one with His healing blood; with His redeeming, graceful love.
But as He has peeled back the layers, He has shown me the consequences of my wounds. Sure, I've known my imperfections for a very long time. I know my moods, my attitudes, my intentions, my slips of the tongue, my temper. But it took being treated as I have treated others to realize that hurt people hurt others, and that's exactly what I've done.
It's a humbling moment when you realize the cycle of death. Someone hurts you, so you build up fortified walls and hurt someone else before they hurt you, so they strike back out of their hurt. The vicious cycle goes on and on until we as a people and I as a person end up in the present predicament of a hurt world and a hurt heart.
The Lord has been faithful to heal the hurts that have been inflicted on me. As I said in a previous blog, He has sent away my accusers and no one stands before me with stones. But I have thrown stones. I have spoken accusations--and I have been humbled by the same God who turned away my accusers.
I've had to make reparations.
I swore I'd done enough. I thought the blame was rightfully placed. I would take on some and they would take on some and we'd call it even. But that logic does not work with matters of the heart. Only authenticity with those who've hurt and whom you've hurt can begin the healing process.
What a sweet victory in the day when the Lord humbled me to such a place that I could be open with my sisters once more. I could tell my story, I could speak of the heartache I've had. And I could be real about the stones I've thrown at them. By the grace of God I was humbled to sincerity, ripped of every wall, and made authentic to those who deserved to hear all that God in His grace has delivered me from. It was draining and rough and hard. It was only the first step in a long line of reparations. It was opposed by the enemy. But another chain dropped that day in this one-by-one process toward freedom in Christ.
Father, thank You for Your love. Thank You for taking me into the depths of Your heart and showing me that my righteousness can only be found in You. Thank You for truly establishing my identity in You. When I have no where else to run, I run to You, and that's a beautiful thing. But thank You for challenging me. Thank You for being real with me and for making me see how desperate I am for Your grace. Thank You for allowing me the opportunity to be authentic once more and thank You for the ways You will continue to break down walls and bring healing. God, do in me what you desire, for I am Yours and I realize how desperately I need You because I fall short in so many ways. But continue to pour out Your grace on me. Continue to awaken my heart to Your love. May I fall evermore in love with You, Savior.
Which is exactly what I've had to do.
I'm not gonna lie, it's been tough. Even writing about it is tough. It's hard to put words to that which proves weakness. But God has been in my face. He's relentless like that. And in the midst of Him healing my wounds and giving me the strength to stand and giving me a confidence that can come only from Him, He's been holding a mirror in front of my face. He and I see what no one else sees. Scars hidden behind walls, hidden behind veils, hidden behind masks. Hurts that have been brushed under the bed. He's been calling them out one by one and covering each one with His healing blood; with His redeeming, graceful love.
But as He has peeled back the layers, He has shown me the consequences of my wounds. Sure, I've known my imperfections for a very long time. I know my moods, my attitudes, my intentions, my slips of the tongue, my temper. But it took being treated as I have treated others to realize that hurt people hurt others, and that's exactly what I've done.
It's a humbling moment when you realize the cycle of death. Someone hurts you, so you build up fortified walls and hurt someone else before they hurt you, so they strike back out of their hurt. The vicious cycle goes on and on until we as a people and I as a person end up in the present predicament of a hurt world and a hurt heart.
The Lord has been faithful to heal the hurts that have been inflicted on me. As I said in a previous blog, He has sent away my accusers and no one stands before me with stones. But I have thrown stones. I have spoken accusations--and I have been humbled by the same God who turned away my accusers.
I've had to make reparations.
I swore I'd done enough. I thought the blame was rightfully placed. I would take on some and they would take on some and we'd call it even. But that logic does not work with matters of the heart. Only authenticity with those who've hurt and whom you've hurt can begin the healing process.
What a sweet victory in the day when the Lord humbled me to such a place that I could be open with my sisters once more. I could tell my story, I could speak of the heartache I've had. And I could be real about the stones I've thrown at them. By the grace of God I was humbled to sincerity, ripped of every wall, and made authentic to those who deserved to hear all that God in His grace has delivered me from. It was draining and rough and hard. It was only the first step in a long line of reparations. It was opposed by the enemy. But another chain dropped that day in this one-by-one process toward freedom in Christ.
Father, thank You for Your love. Thank You for taking me into the depths of Your heart and showing me that my righteousness can only be found in You. Thank You for truly establishing my identity in You. When I have no where else to run, I run to You, and that's a beautiful thing. But thank You for challenging me. Thank You for being real with me and for making me see how desperate I am for Your grace. Thank You for allowing me the opportunity to be authentic once more and thank You for the ways You will continue to break down walls and bring healing. God, do in me what you desire, for I am Yours and I realize how desperately I need You because I fall short in so many ways. But continue to pour out Your grace on me. Continue to awaken my heart to Your love. May I fall evermore in love with You, Savior.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
To Be Reminded
I think God is quirky.
He has this way of randomly dragging me back into His graceful arms. He uses little things. Like random Facebook conversations.
A friend and I had a conversation several months ago after we'd watched "Hotel Rwanda". I remember I cried all the way home because I was so sad and so angry. But we got on Facebook and started chatting, and suddenly we went from talking about heartaches and battles to the goodness of God and of His love for us. We talked about wanting to be used to change people's lives through the love of God and we wanted to share it with everybody.
Now flash forward several months.
I've been living defeated. Satan has been kicking me while I'm down and I'm letting him. I have given in to this idea that maybe I'm not so useful to God's work after all. I've had a hard time accepting that my friends love me, and I've had a hard time running into my loving Father's arms because of pride.
The most convicting parts of the chat?
My friend said, "The battles will just bring you closer. And when you do the Lord's work, you will battle because satan doesn't want you to speak up."
My response? "But like you said. They only draw us closer. And then you laugh in satan's face because he's powerless against God."
Oh me of little faith.
I have not been laughing.
I have been miserable. Stressed. Downright pissy. Giving in to every temptation to act like I'm defeated.
Punch in the gut number two: I said, "(God's love) has blown my mind since day one. But it's there and I can't live without it. And now I've fallen completely head over heals for Him and there's absolutely no turning back even when times are tough."
What am I doing???
The same God who swept me off my feet is the same God who is calling me to claim HIS victory even now, even in the valley where the mountain seems so far off but my Rock is standing right next to me. The same God who poured His love out on me is calling me to seek His steadfast love and not try to rely on my human love to carry out what He has called me to do and what He alone can provide for. The God who has wooed me, captured my attention, captivated my heart, He's the God who freed the Israelites from slavery and who rescued Gomer from her promiscuity and who raised Jesus from the dead. This same God is calling me to live in freedom, to walk every step with Him.
And I'm struggling with apathy.
I have no reason to. No reason to feel anything less than holy passion and love and desire for a God who abounds in mercy and grace and who overwhelms me with the beauty of His creation, His people, and most importantly His heart. But I'm human. I don't always realize or acknowledge how good I've got it.
But His grace covers me.
When I lack desire, He makes me hungry for Him. When I lack motivation, He ignites a fire within my heart. And when I fake myself out and say I'm giving God my authentic love but am really holding back, He demands everything and won't let me rest until my mouth matches up with my heart.
I'm so thankful for the reminder that I received tonight. The same God who inspires conversations that lift up His name inspires even the weariest heart into worship and selfless, abandoned following.
This is a prayer that I read in a book called "Crazy Love". I didn't write it, but I'm claiming it as mine.
Oh God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. Oh God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, so that I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise up and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wondered so long.
He has this way of randomly dragging me back into His graceful arms. He uses little things. Like random Facebook conversations.
A friend and I had a conversation several months ago after we'd watched "Hotel Rwanda". I remember I cried all the way home because I was so sad and so angry. But we got on Facebook and started chatting, and suddenly we went from talking about heartaches and battles to the goodness of God and of His love for us. We talked about wanting to be used to change people's lives through the love of God and we wanted to share it with everybody.
Now flash forward several months.
I've been living defeated. Satan has been kicking me while I'm down and I'm letting him. I have given in to this idea that maybe I'm not so useful to God's work after all. I've had a hard time accepting that my friends love me, and I've had a hard time running into my loving Father's arms because of pride.
The most convicting parts of the chat?
My friend said, "The battles will just bring you closer. And when you do the Lord's work, you will battle because satan doesn't want you to speak up."
My response? "But like you said. They only draw us closer. And then you laugh in satan's face because he's powerless against God."
Oh me of little faith.
I have not been laughing.
I have been miserable. Stressed. Downright pissy. Giving in to every temptation to act like I'm defeated.
Punch in the gut number two: I said, "(God's love) has blown my mind since day one. But it's there and I can't live without it. And now I've fallen completely head over heals for Him and there's absolutely no turning back even when times are tough."
What am I doing???
The same God who swept me off my feet is the same God who is calling me to claim HIS victory even now, even in the valley where the mountain seems so far off but my Rock is standing right next to me. The same God who poured His love out on me is calling me to seek His steadfast love and not try to rely on my human love to carry out what He has called me to do and what He alone can provide for. The God who has wooed me, captured my attention, captivated my heart, He's the God who freed the Israelites from slavery and who rescued Gomer from her promiscuity and who raised Jesus from the dead. This same God is calling me to live in freedom, to walk every step with Him.
And I'm struggling with apathy.
I have no reason to. No reason to feel anything less than holy passion and love and desire for a God who abounds in mercy and grace and who overwhelms me with the beauty of His creation, His people, and most importantly His heart. But I'm human. I don't always realize or acknowledge how good I've got it.
But His grace covers me.
When I lack desire, He makes me hungry for Him. When I lack motivation, He ignites a fire within my heart. And when I fake myself out and say I'm giving God my authentic love but am really holding back, He demands everything and won't let me rest until my mouth matches up with my heart.
I'm so thankful for the reminder that I received tonight. The same God who inspires conversations that lift up His name inspires even the weariest heart into worship and selfless, abandoned following.
This is a prayer that I read in a book called "Crazy Love". I didn't write it, but I'm claiming it as mine.
Oh God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. Oh God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, so that I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise up and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wondered so long.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
On Being a Friend
Sometimes I just want to slap people.
Other times, I just want to wrap my arms around them and tell them that everything will be okay.
When my friends hurt, I hurt. It kills me to see them in pain. I just want to fix it. What hurts me even more is to see them inflict pain on themselves. Because then their worst enemy is themself. And I can't help someone who doesn't want help.
Then I got to thinking. And it truly was a Jesus moment. If my heart bleeds for a hurting, broken friend, how much more does God's heart hurt? How much more does God's heart break?
Sometimes I just want my friends to see my love. I just want them to realize that someone really does care.
I want my friends to recognize the light at the end of the tunnel.
Healing is possible.
Restoration and freedom is real.
Hope is not futile.
Love conquers even the deepest pain.
And as I was thinking about all I wished I could do, all I wished they could see, Jesus reminded me of His love. That any love I have to give is minute compared to His. I would die for my loved ones. He did die for His loved ones, and even the ones who don't love Him.
He desires to wrap His children in His arms and whisper His love to them. He wants us to see His great and infinite love and tender care.
He wants us to see the light that is coming for those who trust in Him.
He wants His people to find deep healing and wholeness, but that only comes from one Person.
He longs for us to see Him as our Savior, our Rescue. He can restore even the most broken of spirits, rescue the bound and beaten prisoner.
He wants us to hope in Him, for us to find all of our longings fulfilled in His deep heart.
He has won the victory. He desires us to live as conquerors in His love.
I can't save my friends. I can't force people to see truth, to see God's love and grace, to see His call on their lives. But I can allow Him to work in my own. I can allow Him to break down my walls, open my heart, and I can live. I can find healing and wholeness in Him, choose to see the light that is near, choose to let Him break my chains, choose to hope in Him when satan whispers to give up. I can claim the victory that I fight so hard for but that has already been won. I can rest in my Savior, the Bearer of all peace and the Giver of life and the Healer of broken hearts.
I can show my friends that Jesus is in the business of restoring lives. That is my call. God is quite capable of all the rest and will use me however He sees is best.
Beloved, I know that the love I have for my friends is nothing compared to Yours. Forgive me for trying to carry their burdens on my own. You alone can handle that. And while I am called to walk through life with them, I cannot play god and fool myself into thinking that I can do things that only You can do. Forgive me for not surrendering them to You, for hating myself when I fall short, for getting frustrated with them when my efforts go ignored. Only You can melt hearts, only You can bring restoration and healing. So I surrender them to You, knowing full well that You can take much better care of them than I ever could. Show me how to be a friend who points others to You.
Other times, I just want to wrap my arms around them and tell them that everything will be okay.
When my friends hurt, I hurt. It kills me to see them in pain. I just want to fix it. What hurts me even more is to see them inflict pain on themselves. Because then their worst enemy is themself. And I can't help someone who doesn't want help.
Then I got to thinking. And it truly was a Jesus moment. If my heart bleeds for a hurting, broken friend, how much more does God's heart hurt? How much more does God's heart break?
Sometimes I just want my friends to see my love. I just want them to realize that someone really does care.
I want my friends to recognize the light at the end of the tunnel.
Healing is possible.
Restoration and freedom is real.
Hope is not futile.
Love conquers even the deepest pain.
And as I was thinking about all I wished I could do, all I wished they could see, Jesus reminded me of His love. That any love I have to give is minute compared to His. I would die for my loved ones. He did die for His loved ones, and even the ones who don't love Him.
He desires to wrap His children in His arms and whisper His love to them. He wants us to see His great and infinite love and tender care.
He wants us to see the light that is coming for those who trust in Him.
He wants His people to find deep healing and wholeness, but that only comes from one Person.
He longs for us to see Him as our Savior, our Rescue. He can restore even the most broken of spirits, rescue the bound and beaten prisoner.
He wants us to hope in Him, for us to find all of our longings fulfilled in His deep heart.
He has won the victory. He desires us to live as conquerors in His love.
I can't save my friends. I can't force people to see truth, to see God's love and grace, to see His call on their lives. But I can allow Him to work in my own. I can allow Him to break down my walls, open my heart, and I can live. I can find healing and wholeness in Him, choose to see the light that is near, choose to let Him break my chains, choose to hope in Him when satan whispers to give up. I can claim the victory that I fight so hard for but that has already been won. I can rest in my Savior, the Bearer of all peace and the Giver of life and the Healer of broken hearts.
I can show my friends that Jesus is in the business of restoring lives. That is my call. God is quite capable of all the rest and will use me however He sees is best.
Beloved, I know that the love I have for my friends is nothing compared to Yours. Forgive me for trying to carry their burdens on my own. You alone can handle that. And while I am called to walk through life with them, I cannot play god and fool myself into thinking that I can do things that only You can do. Forgive me for not surrendering them to You, for hating myself when I fall short, for getting frustrated with them when my efforts go ignored. Only You can melt hearts, only You can bring restoration and healing. So I surrender them to You, knowing full well that You can take much better care of them than I ever could. Show me how to be a friend who points others to You.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Honestly
Honestly, I had a craptastic weekend.
I'd rather just forget about it. Forget that all weekend I felt like a knife was twisting in my heart as I felt ignored. Invisible. Cast aside. Rejected.
Melodramatic? Honestly, no. I'm blunt enough with myself to be able to know when I'm just being emotional. And when it's legit.
How in the world am I supposed to cope with the fact that I no longer have a place of safety? That the place I could call home is no longer safe? How does one deal when best friends are no where to be found? When sisters are silent? When the tears just won't stop flowing because my worst fears have come true?
I've been through stuff I would never in a million years wish on my worst enemy. I've kept the pain and the secrets locked up. Hid the key where no one could find it. I swore I'd never tell a soul. Because then they'd reject me. For sure the truth would be seen that I was unlovable. If anyone knew, they'd see me worthy of condemnation. The equivalent of dirt. Not fit for life. These feelings surfaced over the weekend. But they are the lies satan has whispered to me for years. Since I was about 10. So I've strived to hide it all and pretend like I'm unscathed, pretend like I can't be touched.
But that's not who I am. I am by nature relational. I love being open, catching those little glimpses of myself, of the heart that lies behind the walls. And I've been able to open up to an extent. I told people when I swore it'd be my secret for life. Isn't that enough?
No. Because now comes the hard part. Now comes the healing.
I don't have to heal. I could live like I've been living for the past 7 years. But that's not good enough. Honestly, I want more. I'm tired. My heart needs to be free. Telling someone has opened the prison door. But the shackles are still on my wrists, reminding me that I need more. Reminding me that my God is in the process of removing each link until I am free. And that takes time. And honesty.
So this weekend, in the midst of all the craptasticness, God met me on a path in the woods. He took me to a place I fear. Into myself. To be honest. To come clean. To be real. And it hurt.
But honestly, I wouldn't have traded that moment for a better weekend.
He reminded me that in Jesus, the accusations are null and void. In John 8:3-11, an adulteress is brought before Jesus. As He is questioned about what should be done, He simply says, "He who is without sin should cast the first stone."
My accusers have no authority.
He looks at the woman, looks at me, and asks, "Woman, where are your accusers now? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, sir."
Realization.
"Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."
A declaration of freedom.
Honestly, I have no excuse to hold myself back from God. Honestly, it's time to heal.
And honestly, I'm going to keep my heart open.
It was something my dad said tonight. He was telling me about the weekend that he and my mom spent with the one percenter biker clubs at an event that would cause a coronary in many of today's "Christians". Bikers for Christ had a booth set up there. In the middle of the drunks. In the middle of the bike games and stripper poles and bawdy entertainment.
Right where Jesus would have sat.
And Dad said they didn't have many people come over to the booth. Not many people wanted to talk about God. But they showed a level of respect that not even Billy Graham would receive. The topless bike games were changed to include tops because of the proximity of the BFC booth. The nearby bathrooms were kept clean, and the men and women alike of BFC were respected.
Even if their presence wasn't acknowledged by everyone, Dad said he still knew that people didn't mind the group being there. That most welcomed them. These so called heathens welcomed a completely different group from themselves into their midst. And their presence was appreciated.
I could back down. I could step away and try to find a new nitch. A new place of safety.
But God isn't safe. Or comfortable. Ministry sucks and not everyone wants you around. Not even the Church. But my hope and prayer is that in the midst of all I'm dealing with, my authentic, open, healing heart will be used to inspire others deeper into the heart of God.
And honestly, that's worth it.
Maybe one day I'll be able to write about what happened.
No.
One day I will be able to.
God, keep opening my heart and breaking down the walls. I've told You that all of me is Yours. Now when it comes time to test that, I pray that You would give me the strength to surrender. To live like I'm Yours. To truly be Yours.
I'd rather just forget about it. Forget that all weekend I felt like a knife was twisting in my heart as I felt ignored. Invisible. Cast aside. Rejected.
Melodramatic? Honestly, no. I'm blunt enough with myself to be able to know when I'm just being emotional. And when it's legit.
How in the world am I supposed to cope with the fact that I no longer have a place of safety? That the place I could call home is no longer safe? How does one deal when best friends are no where to be found? When sisters are silent? When the tears just won't stop flowing because my worst fears have come true?
I've been through stuff I would never in a million years wish on my worst enemy. I've kept the pain and the secrets locked up. Hid the key where no one could find it. I swore I'd never tell a soul. Because then they'd reject me. For sure the truth would be seen that I was unlovable. If anyone knew, they'd see me worthy of condemnation. The equivalent of dirt. Not fit for life. These feelings surfaced over the weekend. But they are the lies satan has whispered to me for years. Since I was about 10. So I've strived to hide it all and pretend like I'm unscathed, pretend like I can't be touched.
But that's not who I am. I am by nature relational. I love being open, catching those little glimpses of myself, of the heart that lies behind the walls. And I've been able to open up to an extent. I told people when I swore it'd be my secret for life. Isn't that enough?
No. Because now comes the hard part. Now comes the healing.
I don't have to heal. I could live like I've been living for the past 7 years. But that's not good enough. Honestly, I want more. I'm tired. My heart needs to be free. Telling someone has opened the prison door. But the shackles are still on my wrists, reminding me that I need more. Reminding me that my God is in the process of removing each link until I am free. And that takes time. And honesty.
So this weekend, in the midst of all the craptasticness, God met me on a path in the woods. He took me to a place I fear. Into myself. To be honest. To come clean. To be real. And it hurt.
But honestly, I wouldn't have traded that moment for a better weekend.
He reminded me that in Jesus, the accusations are null and void. In John 8:3-11, an adulteress is brought before Jesus. As He is questioned about what should be done, He simply says, "He who is without sin should cast the first stone."
My accusers have no authority.
He looks at the woman, looks at me, and asks, "Woman, where are your accusers now? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, sir."
Realization.
"Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."
A declaration of freedom.
Honestly, I have no excuse to hold myself back from God. Honestly, it's time to heal.
And honestly, I'm going to keep my heart open.
It was something my dad said tonight. He was telling me about the weekend that he and my mom spent with the one percenter biker clubs at an event that would cause a coronary in many of today's "Christians". Bikers for Christ had a booth set up there. In the middle of the drunks. In the middle of the bike games and stripper poles and bawdy entertainment.
Right where Jesus would have sat.
And Dad said they didn't have many people come over to the booth. Not many people wanted to talk about God. But they showed a level of respect that not even Billy Graham would receive. The topless bike games were changed to include tops because of the proximity of the BFC booth. The nearby bathrooms were kept clean, and the men and women alike of BFC were respected.
Even if their presence wasn't acknowledged by everyone, Dad said he still knew that people didn't mind the group being there. That most welcomed them. These so called heathens welcomed a completely different group from themselves into their midst. And their presence was appreciated.
I could back down. I could step away and try to find a new nitch. A new place of safety.
But God isn't safe. Or comfortable. Ministry sucks and not everyone wants you around. Not even the Church. But my hope and prayer is that in the midst of all I'm dealing with, my authentic, open, healing heart will be used to inspire others deeper into the heart of God.
And honestly, that's worth it.
Maybe one day I'll be able to write about what happened.
No.
One day I will be able to.
God, keep opening my heart and breaking down the walls. I've told You that all of me is Yours. Now when it comes time to test that, I pray that You would give me the strength to surrender. To live like I'm Yours. To truly be Yours.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Fear
Fear.
Four letters. A short, frequently used word. And it has completely wreaked havoc in my heart.
I'm coping in my head and heart with the fact that I'm weak. I'm human. And I'll always be human and subject to lots of mess ups.
But I'm terrified to show my weakness.
I'm terrified to admit that I don't have it all together, that I'm hurting, that I've never felt so alone. Terrified to tell people that this past Sunday was the first in almost a month that I haven't cried. Afraid to tell someone that last Wednesday I cried all the way home from a friend's house after church.
It's one thing to write it out on here. I don't write for someone else. This is purely me coping with what's going on in my life. I don't see the faces of the few who read what I write.
And I like that.
I can't find it in me to tell the people who have walked through life with me for the past several years that I'm struggling and that I need so much more than words. I long to have their presence. But I don't know if I'll get it. I don't know if they'll come through. Am I willing to risk that?
What if God is telling me to? To risk disappointment? To be vulnerable? That thought alone is enough to turn my stomach. I'm supposed to go on a retreat this weekend. And my pride is screaming to not go. Don't risk it. It's not worth it. They aren't worth it.
But it is. And they are.
Because even if they don't come through. Even if my heart goes unheard. Even if no one stands beside me.
My God is enough. He always comes through. He hears my heart. He stands beside me.
And saying that is hard. Believing that removes all my excuses to hold my fear around me like a security blanket. Living that out, actually putting it into practice, requires everything.
I'm still reading Captivating. And I'm learning from it. And I'm seeing that to live in the Lord is to have a heart that is at rest. A heart that is content in Him. Living in Him is to possess a heart of true beauty, of authenticity; a heart that lacks striving.
And past all my fears and doubts, my soul thirsts for His life, for His healing. And He calls me to be vulnerable. To open up my heart and in the midst of all the fear of rejection and of being invisible to be authentic. I don't want to hide or be a bearer of chaos. I desire His peace. And it comes through living with an open heart.
And I may be ignored. But. My God is enough. And really learning that, really living that, is hard. But I've come too far to go back to looking to people to be my source. His grace is enough. And I need to be able to stand on that.
Oh God, I'm swimming in fear, but you are so much bigger than any of it. You are the God who is calling me to healing and reliance on You. You don't wish heartbreak or sadness on me. You use the crappy aspects of life to hedge me in and draw me to You. Thank You, God, for being willing to go to any length to save my soul. Help me to cast aside everything that holds me back. May I be so rooted and sourced in You that the relationships in my life are just overflow. May the true source come from You. I surrender my fear and all else that holds me back. Into Your arms I'm falling.
Four letters. A short, frequently used word. And it has completely wreaked havoc in my heart.
I'm coping in my head and heart with the fact that I'm weak. I'm human. And I'll always be human and subject to lots of mess ups.
But I'm terrified to show my weakness.
I'm terrified to admit that I don't have it all together, that I'm hurting, that I've never felt so alone. Terrified to tell people that this past Sunday was the first in almost a month that I haven't cried. Afraid to tell someone that last Wednesday I cried all the way home from a friend's house after church.
It's one thing to write it out on here. I don't write for someone else. This is purely me coping with what's going on in my life. I don't see the faces of the few who read what I write.
And I like that.
I can't find it in me to tell the people who have walked through life with me for the past several years that I'm struggling and that I need so much more than words. I long to have their presence. But I don't know if I'll get it. I don't know if they'll come through. Am I willing to risk that?
What if God is telling me to? To risk disappointment? To be vulnerable? That thought alone is enough to turn my stomach. I'm supposed to go on a retreat this weekend. And my pride is screaming to not go. Don't risk it. It's not worth it. They aren't worth it.
But it is. And they are.
Because even if they don't come through. Even if my heart goes unheard. Even if no one stands beside me.
My God is enough. He always comes through. He hears my heart. He stands beside me.
And saying that is hard. Believing that removes all my excuses to hold my fear around me like a security blanket. Living that out, actually putting it into practice, requires everything.
I'm still reading Captivating. And I'm learning from it. And I'm seeing that to live in the Lord is to have a heart that is at rest. A heart that is content in Him. Living in Him is to possess a heart of true beauty, of authenticity; a heart that lacks striving.
And past all my fears and doubts, my soul thirsts for His life, for His healing. And He calls me to be vulnerable. To open up my heart and in the midst of all the fear of rejection and of being invisible to be authentic. I don't want to hide or be a bearer of chaos. I desire His peace. And it comes through living with an open heart.
And I may be ignored. But. My God is enough. And really learning that, really living that, is hard. But I've come too far to go back to looking to people to be my source. His grace is enough. And I need to be able to stand on that.
Oh God, I'm swimming in fear, but you are so much bigger than any of it. You are the God who is calling me to healing and reliance on You. You don't wish heartbreak or sadness on me. You use the crappy aspects of life to hedge me in and draw me to You. Thank You, God, for being willing to go to any length to save my soul. Help me to cast aside everything that holds me back. May I be so rooted and sourced in You that the relationships in my life are just overflow. May the true source come from You. I surrender my fear and all else that holds me back. Into Your arms I'm falling.
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