Cue the R Kelly song

I almost feel like I should just go back and add this on to my last post. Apparently, Jesus feels the need to karate chop me in the face (lovingly) with issues that He started working on over break. I thought that the lesson was taught, duly noted, and that was that! Meh, maybe not. And since I'm the type of person that has to write it down in order for it to click... friends, you just might get to witness me going through a pretty hefty learning curve. Stay tuned.

Whenever I do my journaling (what the heck, spellcheck, that is too a word...), every now and then, I go back and read through the last couple of weeks. It's awe-inspiring to see how God speaks through Scripture, and how He brings about events in my life that are so obviously part of His plan for me that I sometimes miss when I'm going through it. And part of me also gets a kick out of seeing how they all seem to connect. Whatever I write about one day is usually still on my mind the next, and so it seeps into whatever I read the next day. It all just becomes this wonderful sequence of discovering truths and applying them, and then that leading to something else... I love it. Anyways, I had some time to spare today, so I started reading back through the past two weeks or so. Instead of seeing a flow of progression, it seemed like everything was stuck on the same thing. The verses that I was drawn to all had to deal with love, which is kind of the norm anyways, but it didn't move forward. And what I journaled about had a different ring to it. They seemed rather cliched at first, and as days passed, they grew more and more frustrated, even bitter. I didn't know how to handle that, or even how to go about thinking on it, so I... erm... ignored it. Or tried to. I decided to do my journaling for today, and wouldn't you know it, 1 Corinthians just had to have this short and simple, but powerful and potent, nugget in it.

"Do everything in love." 1 Corinthians 16:14

I openly admitted to myself that I hadn't been doing the greatest job at that lately, for some reason. And the more I thought about that, the more that I realized that just that admittance in itself bothered me. It even disgusted me. And then the fact that it disgusted me disgusted me. I mean, why did the fact that I was struggling to be motivated by love phase me so much? Did I really have that much pride?

And the answer is, yes. Love is probably my favorite part of the Bible. Yes, the Bible is essentially a love story, but being loved by God in a way that is tighter than any friend, stronger than any father, more passionate than any guy is indescribable. It makes my heart hurt because I can't smile any bigger or feel any more grateful. The ways that we're encouraged to love Him back - that's what I want to do! And when I think about actually treating eachother with love, actual legit love that transcends everything and heals hurts and raises heads and tears down walls and has power... that's the stuff that I seriously daydream about. Now I was having to admit that, despite all of that, I wasn't being motivated by love, that I still had a lot to learn about it, that my passion wasn't enough to get me through. And my pride didn't like that.

In my day-to-day routine, there is a lot hurt and disrespect and gossip and one-sidedness that is there constantly, especially lately in regards to certain music organizations. It breaks my heart to see it... and then, I get frustrated. I get frustrated at the fact that people can't seem to love eachother, that nobody can seem to raise any opinion without a personal debate, that someone is gossiping at every turn (and it's a circle building, so it's one giant turn). And in that frustration, I cease to act and live in love. I act and live in that frustration. Frustration never leads to anything healthy unless it is motivated and guided by God. For me, frustration caused me to become the very thing that irked me in the first place. I'd gossip, only I'd pretend that if I called it "venting" and only did it to select close friends, it would actually be considered healthy. Ha! I'd start to view other people with a jaded mindset because of the exasperation I couldn't let go of. I was, in no way, acting in love! The love that spurred the frustration was removed from the equation entirely. I had become a walking double standard. And I hate double standards. That's a double standard in itself.

I made this realization... and felt horrible. Like seriously, I was so disgusted with myself that I couldn't even bring myself to talk to God about it because I couldn't (figuratively) look Him in the eye. I hate being disciplined, but I couldn't even see how it was worth it to discipline me in the first place. But I was in a public room and couldn't exactly go have a breakdown, so I got out a book that we've been going through in a women's study and read the chapter assigned for the week. You know, God is ironic. The chapter just so happened to be titled "Grace And Discipline".

If someone could've gone through the Bible, handpicked all of the tidbits of truth that I needed to hear right then, throw in some metaphors, and put it in a few pages... well, ha, someone did. Things hit me, things that I always knew but meant more in the light of my thoughts. Just because I was being disciplined didn't mean that I sucked! No, it means that God loves me, that He wants me to mature, that He views me as His completely and totally legit daughter. Pause for a second - just the truth that I am the daughter of God, THE God, blows my mind. I'm being disciplined because God sees a weak area and wants to fix it so that I become more and more like who He wants me to be, so that I can be used and tried and stretched and tested further than before. If I'm willing to work with God in this, changes will happen! That truth, that hope, just floored me. I actually felt excited that God wanted to discipline me!

There was a metaphor in that chapter that really resonated. When baby eagles get to a certain point, the mother eagle will "stir up the nest". She basically makes a big ruckus and hovers over her young until they fall from the nest which, by the way, is on a super freaking tall cliff. To the baby eagles, it's horrific. A loving parent all of the sudden loses her mind and has a conniption fit and pushes you off of a cliff to your certain death?! What!?! But it's completely necessary for her to do this, and she knows it. The babies have to get out there and use their wings and fly. If they stay in that nest and keep growing, it'll actually get dangerous. She knows this, and she's been watching them and caring for them and knows when the time is right to kick them out. It doesn't mean that she doesn't care - it means that she does! She is watching them with even sharper focus when she does this!

Eagles were meant to fly. They just have to be pushed first. They have to grow. And that's us. That's us as Christians. That's me. God has incredible plans for me - I'm meant to soar! But things have to change first. I have to be pushed. And God's pushing me. He's showing me where I need to grow, and although it sucks, He's going to help me with it. He hasn't just slapped me across the face with ugly realizations about myself and then left me to figure out what pieces go back together or how to change. No, He did the slapping, and now, He's helping me learn to fly.

A recap on break

When spring breaks rolls around, almost every college student fits into one of a few categories - they either can't wait to go home, are heading some place to volunteer, are heading some place to "have a good time", or aren't that excited about going home. I have to admit that I generally fall into that last one. Now, don't get me wrong! I love my family. I'm not just saying that - I really do love them. And I welcomed the break from everything that college is. But going home is hard for me.

My family and I used to not get along. I think that most kids go through a rebellious stage somewhere around junior high to early high school, and I did too. I was kind of a lame rebel. I didn't really do anything. But I couldn't stand my parents, and my brothers had that tight bond that comes from loving farmwork or something, and I just didn't share that. It took a few key events around my junior year of high school for things to start clicking, and I finally got along with my family. I mean, I was still kind of the odd one out, but we got along. Then, I got to college, and man, everything changed. God hit me with a full blast of love, I learned what it meant to follow Him, and my life turned upside down. I changed. I changed the way that I viewed Jesus and the Church. I changed the way that I viewed certain aspects of politics or social justice. I changed the way that I loved people (read: I actually learned how to love people). That change took a while to work itself out, and it's still working itself out. But because I only saw my family on extended school breaks, to them, it seemed more sudden. And that's kind of where we are now. I am a much different person, and there's tension as they try to figure out what to do with me. There's tension in that, although we all love and follow Jesus, we do that in much different ways. There's tension in the ways that we view social and political decisions that being made. There's tension in how we treat people or what we consider "normal".

And that tension was there from the get-go of break. The first few days, it was just one argument after another. Mom got upset because I got another ear piercing, and because I pressed on why that upset her, a huge long argument/discussion ensued. I get back home, and my brother says that I'm a bad person because we didn't end up going to church in St. Louis as planned. I discuss my summer plans, and get told to "lay off the church stuff". Things in the news about different races and stuff illicit slurs from my brothers, and that really hurt. And then there's the whole aspect of living with a family of Catholics during Lent. After the first few days, I was done. I felt like I couldn't say anything without being attacked, like they would ask questions about my opinions but not even entertain my answer, like I was being ganged up on. I loved my family SO much, but every time that I tried to speak and act in love, it was thrown in my face. And I still most of a week left. I ended up calling a friend way late at night, completely unloading and being encouraged. "You're strong, you can do this," I was told. And I knew I could. But I had quite a bit of bitterness storing up.

And that's when I found this verse.

"Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful." 2 Timothy 2: 23-24

Mmm. Touche, God. It's not like I was trying to start the arguments that my family and I had been having, but it had gotten to the point that I was almost expecting them, and so was quick to turn defensive. I was adding to those foolish and stupid arguments, and I was definitely harboring resent. I felt pretty convicted right about then, and so since nobody was in the house, I did what I always seem to do when God tries to teach me something hard - I argued with Him. He always wins, but I do it anyways. After I got it all out and basically felt like a giant emotional sponge that was just wrung dry, I just sat there and listened. It's funny, I can just picture God looking at me during my frustration fit, just waiting for me to be quiet so that He could talk, just like a dad or a good friend would. And He did. And what I felt in my soul was basically this: "I know you're frustrated. You love them, and you feel like they're suffocating you, and you want them to love and live like you do. I love how you love! But I love them too, and I have them on different paths than you. This tension is not My plan for this family. Regardless of whose fault it is, dear, you have to forget it and refuse to be part of it. It takes two people to argue. I want to strengthen you and use you, but you have to stop swinging. They love you. You love them. I love all of you. Just think on that."

It was hard. Not so much making the shift, but having to face all of the double standards I had set... ouch.

Once I made that shift in my heart and my attitude, though, I saw how much in the wrong I was. I said that I was trying to speak to them in love, but I wasn't. I was arguing. And while yes, you should stick up for yourself, and while yes, I want them to know my opinion (especially when they ask), when doing that reaches the point that it becomes less of a discussion and more of a fight, then I'm not doing my job. I'm not showing what Christ-like love is. I'm showing how stubborn I am.

I think that that was the part that threw me for a loop the most. It seems like actually living out love pops up in my journal at least once a week. Like, in my head and in my heart, that's one of the things I want most. I want to see people love eachother, actually love eachother, regardless of any differences and without stereotypes or selfishness... I think it would be the most beautiful thing ever. But then, I turn around and harbor resentment towards my parents because of how we can't seem to see eye to eye. Like that even matters! Don't we both love Jesus? Aren't we both children of God? Ugh! And that's the point.

God showed me how to show love to my parents, despite differences. If I had to do it on my own, I would be starting classes today a completely empty woman. I would be so bitter, so frustrated, so tired of it all. But I didn't do it on my own. I did it by continually leaning on God for strength, by pouring out love that I didn't have on my own, that came from Him. I did it by actually  making the effort to see things from their point of view. I did it by looking at them, and seeing Jesus living in them.

Isn't that what love is about anyways?

Prayer is powerful; let's try this

No, I didn't write this, but here's a bit of back story. There is this community of believers in inner city Philadelphia that was founded by a follower of Christ by the name of Shaine Claiborne. He wrote The Irresistible Revolution, and if you have never read it, call me and I will lend you my copy when it gets to you on the list of people to lend it to. =) Anyways, that community - The Simple Way - is taking what Jesus said to do, like feed the hungry and give to the poor, and doing it. It's beautiful to read about, and it fascinates me and excites me and warms my heart and I want to be part of that in some way. Anyways, I was flipping through their website this morning while waiting for my laundry to get done, and one of the pages, it had a list of "50 Ways To Become The Answers To Our Prayers". And... I liked it. And decided to share. If I don't get a chance to write while I'm at home over spring break, then have a good break yourself!

1. Fast for the 2 billion people who live on less than a dollar a day.
2. Contact your local crisis pregnancy center and invite a pregnant woman to live with your family.
3. Ask your pastor if someone on your church’s sick list would like a visit.
4. Join an open AA meeting and befriend someone there.
5. Adopt a child.
6. Mow your neighbor’s grass.
7. Volunteer to tutor a kid at your local elementary school. (Try to get to know the kid’s family.)
8. Grow your own tomatoes—and share them.
9. Ask a small group in your community to meet regularly for intercessory prayer.
10. Build a wheel chair ramp for someone who is homebound.
11. Read the newspaper to someone at your local nursing home.
12. Plant a tree.
13. Look up the closest registered sex offender in your neighborhood and try to befriend him.
14. Throw a birthday party for a prostitute.
15. When you pay your water bill, pay your neighbor’s too (they’ll let you… really).
16. Invest money in a micro-lending bank.
17. Ask the next person who asks you to spare some change to join you for dinner.
18. Leave a random tip for someone who’s cleaning the streets or a public restroom.
19. Write one CEO a month this year. Affirm or critique the ethics of their company (you may need to do a little research first).
20. Start tithing (giving 10%) of all your income directly to the poor.
21. Connect with a group of migrant workers or farmers who grow your food and visit their farm. Maybe even pick some veggies with them. Ask what they get paid.
22. Give your winter coat away to someone who is colder than you and go to a thrift store to get a new one.
23. Write only paper letters (by hand) for a month. Try writing someone who needs encouragement or who you should say “I’m sorry” to.
24. Go TV free for a year. Or turn your TV into a pot where flowers grow.
25. Laugh at advertisements, especially ones that teach you that you can by happiness.
26. Organize a prayer vigil for peace outside a weapons manufacturer such as Lockheed Martin.  Read the Sermon on the Mount out loud. For extra credit, do it every week for a year.
27. Go down a line of parked cars and pay for the meters that are expired. Leave a little note of niceness.
28. Write to one social justice organizer or leader each month just to encourage them.
29. Go through a local thrift store and drop $1 bills in random pockets of the clothing being sold.
30. Experiment with creation-care by going fuel free for a week – ride a bike, carpool, or walk.
31. Try only reading books written by females or people of color for a year.
32. Go to an elderly home and get a list of folks who don’t get any visitors.  Visit them each week and tell stories, read the bible together, or play board games.
33. Track to its source one item of food you eat regularly.  Then, each time you eat that food, pray for those folks who helped make it possible for you to eat it.
34. Create a Jubilee fund in your Church congregation, matching dollar for dollar every dollar you spend internally with a dollar externally.  If you have a building fund, create a fund to match it to give away and by mosquito nets or dig wells for folks dying in poverty.
35. Become a pen-pal with someone in prison.
36. Give your car away to a stranger.
37. Convert your car to run off waste vegetable oil.
38. Try recycling your water from the washer or sink to flush your toilet. Remember the 1.2 billion folks who don’t have clean water.
39. Wash your clothes by hand, or dry them by hanging to remember those without electricity or running water.  Remember the 1.6 billion people who do not have electricity.
40. Buy only used clothes for a year. 
41. Cover up all brand names, or at least the ones that do not reflect the upside-down economics of God’s Kingdom.  Commit to only being branded by the cross.
42. Learn to sew or start making your own clothes to remember the invisible faces behind what we wear.  Take your kids to pick cotton so they can see what that is like (and then read James).
43. Eat only a bowl of rice a day for a week to remember those who do that for most of their life (take a multivitamin).  Remember the 30,000 people who die each day of poverty and malnutrition.
44. Begin creating a scholarship fund so that for every one of your own children you send to college you can create a scholarship for an at-risk youth.  Get to know their family and learn from each other. 
45. Visit a worship service where you will be a minority.  Invite someone to dinner at your house or have dinner with someone there if they invite you. 
46. Help your church congregation create a Peacemaker Scholarship and give it away to a young person trying to avoid the economic draft, who would like to go to college but sees no other way than the military. 
47. Eat with someone who does not look like you.  Learn from them. 
48. Confess something you have done wrong to someone and ask them to pray for you. 
49. Serve in a homeless shelter.  For extra credit, go back and eat or sleep in the shelter and allow yourself to be served.
50. Join a Yokefellows ministry at a prison close to you. Remember that Jesus said he would meet you there (Matt. 25).

Perfect and beautiful foolishness

I opened up my journal to do some chewing on the Bible, and when I opened it up, I saw that I had never actually chewed on the verse that I had written down from yesterday. I had an hour to kill before my lesson, so I said to myself, "Well, shucks, let's turn this one over a few times in my mind before I hit up what resonated with me from today." I started writing... I looked up forty-five minutes later... and then I looked down and saw that I had written six pages worth of thoughts. I usually write about one. I whistled (or tried to), put it away, and got ready for my lesson. But throughout the day, it's just kept bugging the back of my mind. To continue the use of the verb "chew" that I used earlier - you know those times when you are chewing on an exceptionally tough piece of meat, and after a good minute of chewing, you get fed up with it and try to swallow it, but something in your reflexes just won't let you? And so you are basically forced to keep chewing... and chewing... yeah. That what today was. And I think it's about ready to be swallowed. We'll see if organizing it and writing it down helps with that.

"For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God." 1 Corinthians 1:18

 Really, the whole story of God and Jesus and salvation actually makes no logical sense. I've battled my fair share of doubts before (and it never fails that when one doubt creeps in, Satan multiplies that by twenty until you yell at him to stop - he sucks). I had a conversation with one of my friends last year around this time who was baffled by the idea of Easter. He said something to the extent of, "So... Christianity is the belief that some sort of cosmic Jewish zombie who was, in fact, his own father can make me live forever if I become a cannibal and eat him? And if I somehow telepathically tell him that he's my master, he'll remove some sort of dark force from my soul that's there because a woman made from a rib was tricked by a talking snake into eating an apple? Really?" Seriously. I got that in a Facebook message and was like, oh gosh. Here we go. And people found it ridiculous even in the Bible. There's some place in the later part of Acts when Paul was going from one judge character to another in an effort to not be killed, and the judges were basically saying to eachother, "Yeah, Paul really hasn't done anything wrong. It's some sort of religious dispute about a dead man named Jesus. Paul says He's alive."

So, yes, on all accounts, "the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing."

But on the other side of the coin, to those of us who have been saved by the power and grace of God, there is nothing more beautiful and pure and obvious, there is nothing more real and true, there is nothing that resonates more deeply within a soul. Everything within me has faith that God is real and that He loved me with a love so intense and powerful and selfless that He Himself, as Jesus, died so that I would know that love, so that I could love Him back, so that we could be together forever, so that no mistake I ever made would matter anymore, so that I could have a life more full that I could have ever imagined, so that the life after that life would blow my mind. Absolutely everything within me has faith in that.

And the truth is, I wouldn't even have been able to say that if it wasn't for God. I have only come to know Jesus and know salvation and know grace because God gave me that sudden "aha!" moment. Jesus says time and time again that you can look but not actually see, that you can hear but not listen or understand. In our own abilities, we can't even believe in God. He takes Him opening up our eyes and our ears and our minds to the truth that is Him, and then, what was once completely foolishness suddenly glistens with truth. All that God needs is an open heart, and it is even through His work that a heart can soften. We really and truly can't take credit for any part of believing and having faith in God.

That same chapter in 1 Corinthians goes on to say that...

"Human wisdom is so tiny, so impotent, next to the seeming absurdity of God. Human strength can't begin to compete with God's "weakness." vs.24

 God is that big. God is beyond our ability to comprehend. Just trying to makes my head hurt and my heart swell! He wanted it that way, and it is good that it is! And that brings up a question - what do we, as humans, do when we come up against things that we can't understand? The way that I see it, one of three things usually happen (after the initial curiosity, of course) - 1) We decide that it really doesn't matter and refuse to give it much thought, 2) We denounce the whole thing as impossible and nonsense, or 3) We appreciate and even marvel the intricacies that are so far beyond us. Those are basically the three general reactions towards something we don't understand, be it calculus (I totally went with the first route on that one), Santa Claus, or God. When it comes to God, I live in the third option. I know that I don't understand everything about Him, and that I will never understand everything about Him, and that's okay. That's more than okay. I can do nothing but stand in awe and completely praise Him.

The thing is, I can't go up to an atheist and gush about how true God is and how life-changing what Jesus did for me was because, to them, it's nonsense. Their minds and eyes and ears haven't been opened. God's still working on softening their hearts, in readying them for that "aha!" moment. It will do no good to try to reason with them and then get frustrated and open the door for Satan to fester those doubts. No, instead, as Christians who have come to a life by faith, we need to live out that love and truth that we know. They may not understand it, but if they see the reality of it in us and not a hypocrite, if they see us actually doing what Jesus told us to do and not corrupting it all with power motives, then they will at least come to respect it. You can't reason with an atheist - you love them. You love them, you respect them, you build relationships with them.

And you don't view them as a potential convert. I mean, we should absolutely want to see them come to know Jesus! But if that is the sole way that we view them and the motive behind our interactions with them... how condescending is that, really? Couldn't they see right through that? I read a book once called Jim & Casper Go To Church which was, by the way, an amazing read about a pastor who took an atheist with him to a wide variety of churches and got his opinion on them and how they are showing the image of Jesus. Anyways, there was a paragraph in it that kept getting stuck in my head sometime after lunch today.

"Christians don't like being in a "one-down" position to an atheist, or even thinking an atheist has anything important to say to us. Let me ask you, how would it feel to you if atheists were in charge, and rather than being called Christians, we were called christians? (I have to force my spell-checker to allow me to use the lowercase to spell christian, but not to spell atheist.) Or worse yet, what if we were widely referred to as "non-Athiests"? That's how we think of them, and believe me, they know it."

We should view atheists, and anyone who doesn't follow Jesus, as a human being, as a child of God! I mean, aren't they? Regardless of whether they claim that title for themselves, are they not still a child of God? Didn't He still make them, still love them? We should love them as we would a brother or sister in Christ! Whether a person follows Jesus or not should really have no bearing on how we treat them or talk to them or act around them. Jesus was constantly relating to people who did not hold His beliefs or practice the Jewish religion. And one of the things that is amazing about Him is His knack for keeping a conversation on spiritual realities without playing the religion/beliefs card. He talked about God and salvation without shoving a sermon down their throats. And I think that a good part of that was because He has relationships with people. People will listen to you if you have earned their respect.

And perhaps God will use that to soften hearts, and show them how beautiful and real the foolishness of the cross is.

____I just took a break, had a really good phone call with someone, and I think I know why I have been chewing on this so long... if you care to know, keep reading.____

I think the thing is... I have some friends whom I love so much, and they are either atheist or agnostic or really aren't sure what they are but they know that Jesus is ridiculous. And my heart, I swear, literally breaks for them. Every now and then, they ask me one of those things about Christianity that isn't logical, and it turns into a frustrating conversation.

A friend from MSA just called not that long ago, and of course, Jesus and the Church and Christianity in general came up when she asked what I've been up to lately. One of those tough, illogical questions got asked, and she ended the question with, "I mean, really, do either of us really know anything until we die and see?" And I thought about it... and I decided to be straight with her. And I answered, "You know, in the sense of knowing and proving gravity, I can't say that I know or can prove Jesus is God. My soul knows it without a doubt, but if you want logic, I won't be able to give anything to you that you haven't already heard.  It's called faith. I have my faith, my hope, and my confidence squarely in the fact that Jesus is God, and it has shown to be something completely real." She was really quiet... and then said, "You don't know how much that means. Because truthfully, ask any atheist, and they'll say that it's not the belief or faith or confidence in God that puts them off. Really, Jesus seems like an amazing dude. It's the fact that you guys keep asserting that you know it for a solid fact, like it can be backed up with proofs or experiments or what not. What you have is a strong, beautiful faith in something that has a huge amount of truth in it. And it may, in fact, be true. Thanks for being real."

Huh.

To those who haven't been shown the truth about it by God, the message of the cross is foolishness. But to those of us who have been saved by it, it is the power of God.

It's real to us. But others can't understand it. And it's not up to us to make them understand it. That's in God's hands. We're supposed to love them, to be real with them, to not hide behind cliches, to build relationships, to have conversations, to earn respect. That's our job. With God working through us and in them, the rest will happen in time. The foolishness will become perfect.

Oh Jesus... I'm in love with You.

A lesson learned from a demon

Not that long ago, I finished a book by C.S. Lewis called "The Screwtape Letters". It was really rather strange at first, I have to be honest. The whole idea of the book is that it's a letter correspondence between Screwtape, one of the head demons, to his novice nephew, Wormwood. So I'm reading the back of the book before I start and I'm thinking myself, "Yeah... alright... huh. This will be interesting." And after the first chapter, I came to the determination that it was probably among the ten most legit books I'll ever read. It took a while to get used to viewing God as the Enemy and basically taking every concept that Screwtape said was good and crucial and looking at it from the opposite viewpoint, but sometimes it takes reading things in a completely different light to make them click.

For instance, Screwtape makes is apparent that it makes absolutely no sense to God to love us, that it doesn't even make sense that He would've bothered to create us in the first place, and on and on and on. And he's right. It doesn't. And the frustration that he had with that just made me grin. I mean, isn't that how crazy God loves us? That we really are, in all intensive purposes, insignificant, but God cares! God more than cares - He loves. And maybe it doesn't make sense, but sometimes not being able to fully comprehend something makes it even more beautiful.

"Merely to override a human will (as His felt presence in any but the faintest and most mitigated degree would certainly do) would be for Him useless. He cannot ravish. He can only woo. For His ignoble idea is to eat the cake and have it; the creatures are to be one with Him, but yet themselves; merely to cancel them, or assimilate them, will not serve. He is prepared to do a little overriding at the beginning. He will set them off with communications of His presence which, though faint, seem great to them, with emotional sweetness, and easy conquest over temptation. But He never allows this state of affairs to last long. Sooner or later He withdraws, if not in fact, at least from their conscious experience, all those supports and incentives. He leaves the creature to stand up on its own legs - to carry out from the will alone duties which have lost all relish. It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that it is growing into the sort of creature He wants it to be. Hence the prayers offered in the state of dryness are those which please Him best. He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys."

 This paragraph is literally teeming with truths. Like the fact that those moments when my heart wants to practically explode because of God - that is just God wooing me. That's not even Him pulling out all of the stops with His love and gifts and everything. Isn't that incredible? I find that incredible. I find that beyond incredible.

But the whole perspective on the times when God seems further away that normal is so true. That one line - "If only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles," - just really speaks to me, for some reason. I learned this summer, and heard it a ton of different ways, that we don't have to please God by our actions or by doing everything right. That was such a release for me to learn. Still, the mental picture of God holding us up, teaching us to walk, and then taking away His hand... not so that we can walk perfectly and even run, but in hopes that we still want to walk. Even if we fail, the fact that we want to makes God smile, pleases Him. Just the wanting. That's it.

There was a time early last winter when I was in one of the troughs Lewis is talking about. It wasn't that I didn't love God or anything, but things had gotten so tough. I had been in a veritable greenhouse of spiritual support over the summer, and then, that wasn't there. I wanted to do so much stuff for the church plant, but my school life kept giving me one obligation after another. I was feeling disheartened with how the church was going. I felt like I was fighting everything by myself, like God had gotten bored with me and moved on to something else, and I kept yelling, "Where the heck are You? Do You even care anymore? You started this whole thing, now help me finish it!" It sucked, and I hated it, but I knew that there was no way that I was going to go back to the person I used to be, so I just gritted my teeth and kept going. I kept pouring myself into the church even though I was exasperated. I kept praying even though I would've bet money that God wasn't even listening anymore. I tried to do what I knew God wanted me to do even though I doubted He was watching.

And then, the tension broke. The hug I felt from God after that long time of not even knowing where He went was incredible. Then, He whispered truth. He never left. He was always right there with me, watching me, listening to me, helping me, guiding me, loving me... even when I didn't know it. And He was proud of me. And that made it all worthwhile. Just realizing that that entire time, He was there... He never actually did leave me. He was just as near as ever. I love that.

The thing is, that was the last "trough" period I'll ever have, but they don't last forever. And if I have to go through them to grow, to be tested, to please God, to become the woman He wants me to be, then I'm all for them. It's just a matter of keeping on praying, keeping on doing the work. And it's not like I'll be by myself anyways. He's always there.

Oh what a lousy excuse for a car...

The last couple of days have found me struggling with something that I have struggled with off and on ever since I started college. And it seems ridiculous. I mean, it's what brought me here in the first place. The long and the short of it is that I am going back and forth over whether I'm supposed to be studying music or not.

Well, at least, that's the short of it. Here's the long.

Music was my safe ground in high school. I was messed up, I had no sense of identity, and so I used music to both find myself and lose myself. Also, my band and choir directors were both extreme influences in my life, and although we don't necessarily see eye to eye on everything now, they had such a positive impact on me. And - at the risk of sounding, erm, cocky - I was good at it! I could play piano better than anyone, I could sight read faster than anyone, I could sing something besides melody, I was the "first real percussionist we've had in a long time", I had a university professor interested in giving me weekly lessons. I was good. And I loved it. So I followed it.

And now, I'm left wondering if I was trying to turn a hobby into something more. When you take something that you love, and then study it and practice it and get critiqued on it day in and day out, it's almost like poking holes into it. The joy leaks out. I used to be excited to practice, to go to rehearsals, to have lessons. Anymore... well, I still do some days, and on others, I just want to scream.

I know that it's almost become a cliche to say how negative of an atmosphere the Fine Arts building has, but it's so true! All of these young adults came here chasing a love of theirs. And then, on top of that love, theory classes get thrown in. And aural skills (please, someone tell me how on earth you're supposed to train a sense). And ensembles. And sectionals for those ensembles. And proficiency tests, because it's not enough to just pass a class; you have to pass it and prove that you're proficient. And juries. And accompanying. And lessons. And recital attendance. And making upper levels. And music organizations. And offices inside of those organizations. And studio classes. And a senior recital. Then take away every single weekend with some obligation or another, make it so that getting out in four years is laughable, throw in the stupid hierarchy between instrumentalists and vocalists that never ceases to exist, and blend it all together with a healthy dose of seeing the same people day in and day out. People who are beautiful and talented and ambitious, but are worn just as thin as you.

What I think is the worst part is that it hurts me - actually hurts me - to see people so sick and tired - sick and tired of music, sick and tired of people and drama, sick and tired of God and "empty" promises. What keeps most people here is that, at the end of the day, they can't see themselves doing anything else, their entire life is poured out into music. And me? I can see myself doing other things, like writing or doing something (I'm not sure what) in the deepest part of a city somewhere. My entire life isn't poured out into music, it's poured into God. I don't want to sit in theory classrooms and locked into the percussion studio - I want to be outside singing praises and talking to people and being so loved that it spills over. And then there's the pride thing that keeps creeping up. In high school, I was the best. In college, everyone was the best. We're a big giant pool of the best. It's simultaneously glorious - have you ever just sat in the practice room hallway and listened the music pouring out? - and frustrating. I seem to find myself asking more and more lately whether I'm cut out for this, whether I've got the talent for this, whether anyone will want me to teach their children when I get done here. It terrifies me to answer those questions. And here next year, half of the percussion section is going to be going on to bigger and better things. I'm going to have an insane amount of leadership thrown on me, and although I've been working towards that from the get-go, I'm going to be a junior! I shouldn't have to be doing that yet!

But here's the thing. After all of that venting, there is still one thing that I can't shake. God used music to bring me here, and although part of me wonders if now that I'm here I'm supposed to be letting it go, the other part of me knows without a doubt that that isn't true. The other part of me knows that God is going to use music to do bigger and better and more adventurous things with me. The other part of me knows that God probably isn't ever going to stop using music to reach some purpose.

I learned last year that I can't rely on loving music or hating music to vouch whether or not I should study it. In marriage, some days you're going to wake up and love the handsome son-of-a-gun lying next to you, and other days, you're going to want to hit him with a skillet. But you still love him, and you're never going to leave him, and you know that, deep down. It's the same with music. Yes, I've learned that. This year, what I've continually fallen back on is the fact that, well, I am in love with these music people. They're beautiful, they're vibrant, they're dreamers, they're creators, they're characters in amazing stories.  And if I leave... then I leave those people too. Oh sure, I'll still see them from time to time, but I wouldn't be sharing my day to day life with them. I remember a good friend saying during my first year that she had a dream that there was going to be this bright light streaming out of the Fine Arts building some day, but it was going to start with a few candles. I want to be a candle to these people. I want to bring them joy, I want to show them hope, I want to love them with a love that wouldn't be possible with God. And some of the people there are, seriously, my family. But they are so frustrating, and it feels like I am hitting my head against a wall over and over and over again. I'm, like, "God, why have you put them on my heart if I can't make any difference to them?!" I love my family there, and I know that they love me because they show it, but I want them to feel Love, to know God, to have their hopes changed. I want that so bad for them that it makes me groan.

There are two verses that have popped into my head probably a zillion times today, the day when it all seemed to reach a pinnacle. And yes, I know I posted the first one yesterday, blah blah blah, get over it.

"But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed." Habakkuk 2:3

"Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord, your labor is not in vain." 1 Corinthians 15:58

There is such promise in those. That hope that my friend had that got planted in me last year - it will happen. It'll happen on God's timing and in ways that I can't understand, but it will happen. And the second one especially got me through the day, because the truth is, I'm not standing here beating my head against the wall. Even when it feels like I'm getting nowhere, there is progress being made. I'm doing this to glorify God, and He will be glorified. But in doing it His way, the glory will shine so much brighter. In the Lord, my labor is not in vain. In the Lord, my labor is not in vain. In the Lord, my labor is not in vain...

So... what I've decided from a good deal of reading and crying and praying and thinking today... is that I'm going to stay with music. I'm not done being used, and truthfully, I would miss it entirely too much if I left. It's part of who I am. I might take some sort of literature or composition class next semester to give myself a bit of a break, or maybe I'll just throw up short stories and poetry on here and save myself hundreds of dollars. Bahaha. I'm not sure. But the cry of my heart is to be used by God, and He wants to use me here, in the music department, in the Fine Arts building, studying percussion and loving the people around me. I know that now. And I know that He's not only going to change other people by keeping me here, but He's going to be changing me. I know that I might not always like that. And He knows that I might not always like it. He knows that today probably won't be the last time that I come to Him frustrated and about to give up. And that's okay. Because what He whispered into my heart, what encouragement He gave, what promises He told... He'll do it again. And again. I just have to keep running this race for Him, and Him only, and know that He smiles when I'm making music for Him.

Funny story, while I was teaching the second graders today, we all sat in a circle "Indian style", and the little girl on my left looks at me with eyes so full of excitement and says, "Teacher! You're wearing flip-flops!" I laugh and say that yes, I am. She grins and goes, "Mom told me that I couldn't wear flip-flops yet because it wouldn't be smart, but you're wearing them and you're Teacher so you must be smart. I'm going to tell Mom that I'm going to wear flip-flops tomorrow, " and then she crosses her arms and gives a defiant nod of her head.

I laughed.

Teaching music will be fun after all.

Humble beginnings

I owe a lot to how God has used Living Hope here. It's funny to look back and see He has orchestrated everything, even things that you thought were of no significance, to bring you closer to Him. I came to Northwest for music, and music led me to drumline, drumline led me to the percussion tech, the percussion tech led me to a Sunday evening celebration at Living Hope, the celebration led me to an encounter with God that I never imagined was even possible. And to be a part of a huge, dynamic adventure of a church plant in a town that I love with people that I love and a campus that I love serving a God that I love... it's too good.

But it's frustrating.

I remember being so frustrated during the summer when we spent days acting out on faith and inviting people to church, and then showing up on Sunday to a room of... the exact same people who went around inviting people to church. I wanted to cry. I remember seeing the glass warehouse, falling in love with it, and then everything sort of falling through the cracks. It was disappointing.

The thing is, as I was reminded over and over again by people on the adventure with me, God put us here for a reason. He's spoken to us, through us. We've prayed boldly in faith. He never said that this would be easy. What would be gained by giving up? It's not like we stand a chance of doing this on our own anyways! We're fully reliant on God. On and on, promises would be given to encourage, and it was true. This was a race worth running. We just had to keep running. One of my friends had a word during one of our prayer meetings that really hit me. "Humble beginnings". Basically, we've started out small because it forces us to lean on God, and years later when Living Hope has blossomed into something amazing, we'll still have that lesson learned from the get-go, we'll still be leaning on God, because that's the only thing we've ever done. God loves humble hearts that want to serve.

And already, things are being done! We're meeting in a hangar turned movie theater turned church. It's great. And we've got a group of people who come that have passion and excitement and a willingness to get in there and serve. There's an amazing group of women that I respect so much. Things are happening!

I'm not a very patient person. God's working on that, but nonetheless, it makes the growing tough. I want Living Hope to grow, I want the campus to be flooded with Love, I want the town to break out of their shell, I want the gospel to hit this place, I want hearts to be healed, I want to help! And then there's the thing that every three-year-old tacks on at the end... "I want it now." Ugh. I know, I know...

But here's something I read in Habakkuk today, chapter two, verse 3.

"But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed."

I don't know; I just find that extremely encouraging. Like, the pep talk of the era. What God has promised us WILL happen. Oh, and it makes me grin! But it will happen when He decides, when it's best, when the work has been done. Someday, we will have over a hundred people every Sunday. Someday, we will have a children ministry. Someday, we will have a youth group. Someday, we will have our own building. Someday, the campus will see a revival. Someday, we'll be so strongly rooted that we can plant new churches.

What is important is to wait and do the task at hand. If we pour ourselves into this, God will pour Himself into us. It's, like, stay focused on God and, all of the sudden, things will burst. Things beyond our wildest imaginations. So, regardless of any frustration I've felt and any exasperation I may lie ahead in the future, it's all still God's plan. At the end of the day, He's going to do things the way that they should be done, and all He asks of us is that we follow.

And honestly... I wouldn't want to bypass all of the "humble beginnings" for anything.

"I think it's time for some new jeans..."

It's the strangest things that make me think of God. Really, it is. Just today, for instance, I have had my thoughts directed to God by the most random things. Getting out my summer perfume and remembering the internship. Seeing the awkward melting stage of campus. Painting my fingernails. Skipping. Doing MusicLab. Being woken up by the sun. Overhearing the conversations of freshmen in the lounge.

I had one of those moments in an Old Navy a few days ago. I love Old Navy. I love their clothes and I love their scarves and I love how the place smells. There is one thing that I can't stand about Old Navy.

These mannequins creep the life out of me. Seriously. You walk into a brightly lit, consumer-slanted room with trendy mood beats, and there is an entire family of freaky plastic people. Now, I know that mannequins serve a purpose. I get that. But do they have to have those clownish smiles? Or large, unblinking eyes? And their attempt to bridge the racial gap ends between the Caucasians and the African-Americans. Wait, no, I think there's someone from Asia in there. And a dog. Of course, there's a dog. Even the dog is creepy. I go into Old Navy wanting to have a pleasant shopping experience, and instead, have induced nightmares. Yes, I have had nightmares with these mannequins in them. I can't be the only one; I'm sure. Bad PR right there.


I think the reason that they bother me so much is that they are too perfect. They look too happy (I mean, seriously, they do nothing but stand there all day. They cannot possibly be that enthused). They're fake, but trying so hard to convince me otherwise.

And, in that respect, they're almost human.

I feel like, as Christians, there's some sort of self-imposed or culture-imposed stigma that we're supposed to be happy all of the time. We're supposed to always be smiling. We're supposed to be enthusiastic. We're supposed to have all of the answers. We're supposed to be perfect. We're supposed to never slip up. And all too often, we buy into that stigma. I know that it had me fooled for the longest time. How could I tell anyone what I was dealing with? I was a Christian! I wasn't supposed to have problems! ...right?

See, the thing is that, because of the facade that we feel we have to have, we've just become mannequins. The smile on our face is empty, is fake. We're not fooling anyone. People can see right through that, and get mildly irritated, because nobody - nobody - has it all together. We're just lying to ourselves if we say that we do. Christians are humans. We aren't happy all of the time, and neither are we supposed to be!

The difference between people who know Christ and people who don't, in this matter, is the difference between joy and happiness.

Happiness happens when things go well, like an A on a test or finding out that a class is canceled or that your allowance is being raised. It warms us. Joy, on the other hand, takes our breath away. Joy comes from appreciating life, from having faith in something larger than ourselves. It's some sort of swell of emotion that comes from something within us rather than outside of us. It doesn't depend on money or cars or vacations, but how we view the world and where our hope lies.

Joy and happiness aren't synonyms. I mean, look at David. He was loved by God and used by God, but he in no way had all of the answers! He in no way lived a perfect life! But he had joy, despite everything. Look here, in Psalm 43:

Vindicate me, O God,
       and plead my cause against an ungodly nation;
       rescue me from deceitful and wicked men.
You are God my stronghold.
       Why have you rejected me?
       Why must I go about mourning,
       oppressed by the enemy?
Send forth your light and your truth,
       let them guide me;
       let them bring me to your holy mountain,
       to the place where you dwell.
Then will I go to the altar of God,
       to God, my joy and my delight.
       I will praise you with the harp,
       O God, my God.
Why are you downcast, O my soul?
       Why so disturbed within me?
       Put your hope in God,
       for I will yet praise him,
       my Savior and my God.

I think it's safe to say that David wasn't exactly happy. In fact, he was pretty angry and hurt and sad. But he had joy, and joy runs deeper. Joy is constant. And joy takes the slips and the downs in life and puts them into perspective: No, I'm not perfect, but God is. Yes, I do mess up, but God never does.

We don't have to plaster smiles on our faces. We don't have to search for happiness. We don't have to hide our every mistake. God doesn't want mannequins. He wants His children. He wants all of them, just as they are, with emotions and mistakes and everything. He wants us to be human - He made us human! And as His children, as real people, as humans, He can use us. He'll fill us with a joy that we'll never understand because it just simply doesn't make sense, and He'll use us in ways that we can't even imagine. And maybe we won't always be grinning, but our hearts will be soaked in something amazing, something indescribable, something more real and steady and tangible than happiness. God's joy, His awesome gift.