BUT GOD.

On Thursday, by the help of Paraclete, I finally confessed & repented of the fear & distrust I’ve been harboring toward God for a few years now. If you’re surprised to hear me admit that, I think I’ve been a “horrifically ‘good’ hypocrite.” If you’re not surprised, consider yourself privileged that I didn’t try to hide it from you too.

The back story that led up to Thurs night will appear on the blog of my journey with bipolar later … but for now I wanted to leave this here as a testimony to God’s faithfulness.

Because He helped me to finally lift up my eyes from the deep hurt I was clinging to {the “that” of the 2nd line of the quote}. This is what I wrote in my journal as I chose with His enabling, helping hand to change perspective.

Sure, work is still hectic. Yes, I still have bipolar. But I’m done acting like an abused victim! I’m done charading around trying to cover over a heart full of pain & darkness.

 

BUT GOD.

But God, that is NOT what I want to choose to believe about You.

But God, those are the lies of the enemy rather than Your true truth.

But God, You have promised in Your Word to work all things for good to those who love You & are called by You.

But God, I believe I am called and redeemed by Your grace & mercy, regardless of how much I want to run away.

But God, please whisper Your truth into my soul; draw me back into abiding trust & sweet communion in You!

But God, I don’t want to live this lousy hypocritical life any more. I am not living with integrity before You!

But God, I confess this to You.

But God, cause my eyes to see You as You truly are and to repent in sackcloth & ashes.

But God, You ARE the Kintsugi Artist who redeems & restores that which You did not lightly allow to break.

But God, my hope & joy are in Jesus Christ, NOT in my circumstances!*

But God, YOU are worthy.

…

Praise You, Paraclete. Only You could turn something so big & scary into something so beautiful & sacred!

I declare that I am nothing without You in my life. You are worthy & I praise You for Your perfect goodness—and I choose to root my trust back into You. I cannot keep that commitment on my own, But God, You are exceedingly, abundantly able to equip me with the humility of surrender. I believe You!

 

*A paraphrase from one of Elizabeth’s prayers in the movie War Room.

 

I would greatly appreciate your prayers as I seek to replow the ground of my heart & mind. It’s been rutted pretty deeply over the past 3.5-5 years into some negative thought patterns – but NOTHING is impossible for my God!!!!!

Yesterday, for the first time in about six months, I pulled my Bible off my shelf for individual, personal Bible study. And it was sweet!

This morning, I fell back into the rut and didn’t think of doing that until after I had been at work for a few hours.

But tomorrow is a new day!! And I serve a patient, faithful God!!

Vulnerability, not Pretense

The Church is NOT a good works club, it IS a fellowship of grace! It’s NOT about what we do—period! All we have to do is to receive, openly & vulnerably; to be loved by Jesus. Works-based Christianity does NOT create sustainable faith!

The above paraphrase was the key point of the sermon I heard this morning—a sermon so good I sat through it twice! (I’m attending church with my hostess for the next several months, at Oak Hills Presbyterian Church here on the outskirts of Portland.)

Currently, the church is going through a sermon series on Acts, and this morning’s passage was about 4:32-5:11—the story of the early Church’s lifestyle of radical giving and the death of Ananias and Saphira. Jeremy (the pastor here) made the case that, at root, this passage is not really about money or giving. It’s about a deeper lifestyle choice: Pretense or Vulnerability.

The generous people, including Barnabas, showed their vulnerability by giving up their earthly security for the sake of others – demonstrating that the resurrection of Christ (4:33) had set them free from the self-protective hoarding of resources. The beneficiaries of this generosity also had to practice vulnerability, admitting to their church family that they were facing needs that they couldn’t meet on their own.

The power of Christ created a culture of radical openness and vulnerability for those who found their identity in HIM, rather than in trying to project a false image of themselves to others. Ananias and Saphira, however, made a show of spiritual heroism that was a lie – and for that they were severely punished….by death!

Jeremy talked about the word hypocrite, which comes from the Greek word for actor. In Greek culture, stage actors would wear masks to show their emotions—happy for a joyful scene, sad for a tragic scene, etc. With the masks, they projected what the scene required, while hiding what was really going on underneath.

He concluded his sermon, “the only way to receive grace is by being open and broken, trusting in God’s grace and being real with one another.”

This sermon really struck a chord with me where I am at spiritually right now. I have so very much to be thankful for, so very much to praise God for. But this year, and the past several years before, have each been the successively hardest year of my life. And so I want to share more about that here than I have so far. Not to illicit pity. Definitely not to brag on myself (quite the contrary!). But to testify of God’s Grace.

God has brought the above song to my mind multiple times in the past few months. This is who I want to be. Real and raw, yes, but for the purpose of allowing God to shine His Glory through my brokenness.

As those close to me know, most of this year has been an intense spiritual battle for me. In January I returned to my second home in Uganda, excited for another term…though also with reservations. Before I could even get back into my job at the office, I was hit simultaneously with insomnia, depression, and worse.

For the next six plus months, many days it was a struggle just to get out of bed. It felt like I was constantly fighting a losing battle with hopelessness. After two months with little maintainable progress, I resigned from my position in Uganda, said goodbye to the people who had become my family there, and returned home to Dallas. I’ve become ok over these past months with naming depression as one of my struggles. There were also other struggles I’m still not comfortable naming this publicly.....shame can be a strong enemy. [No physical or emotional harm was maliciously done to me.]

Suffice it to say, the fact that I am currently walking in relationship with God is in itself a testimony to God’s abundant Grace, lavish Love, and constant Pursuit towards me. He did this using so many amazing people both in Uganda, Dallas, and other places who didn’t give up on me…who kept loving me, praying for me, speaking truth to me, and fighting (spiritually) on my behalf. If I started naming names I couldn’t quit…so I won’t start, except to say that my parents are at the top of the list. :)

The fact that a month and a half ago I moved half way across the country, to a place where I personally knew no one; that I am now in an intense program of learning and serving, and that I am {mostly**} flourishing here—that is an unimaginable miracle of Christ’s mercy and transforming power.

When people hear about my life since graduation from college in May of 2013—most of that time spent rooted in the red soil of East Africa—they can quickly and easily tend to put me on a pedestal. I’m here to tell you today, I am NO super hero. I am not applying that title to myself—one well-meaning person has told me that missionaries, me inclusive, are. On the contrary, I am just as flawed and broken as anyone else….if not more so (in the spirit of Paul, expressed in 1 Tim. 1:15). Any good that has come of my life is all God’s Grace.

Yesterday morning, I spent more than three hours journaling…processing…praying…grieving. My Good Shepherd has led me on a road that has been full of both the very good and the very hard in these past five years, since I first knocked on the door labelled “Uganda.” But He has been with me every single step of the way, both on the sunny mountaintops and in the darkest of valleys.

This year’s breakdown didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s seeds were sown from my personality and character flaws…from circumstances and situations which affected me…from my failure to name what I needed and ask for help (at least not until it was too late, humanly speaking)…from organizational and personnel challenges. The pressure really started building in August of 2016…so it was a long time coming.

So that’s my practice at being open and vulnerable. And maybe very few people will take the time to read this. But I process best by writing, and so hopefully composing this blog post will better free my tongue in personal dialogue. Please feel free to ask me questions. Christ’s healing of my heart is finally bringing me to a place of being more willing to speak of these things. But these previous paragraphs are not the whole story.

Here is the “My Story” version:

Hope that wouldn't let go: My Savior never lost a grip on the wheel of my life, even when it looked to me like it was chaotically spinning out of control. And HE has restored my hope in Him, in His time and way.

Love that never gave up: These past three weeks, my Lover has been calling my heart to be willing to receive from Him and from others. Not that I should try to earn or deserve anything, simply to receive…and THEN to give.

Life, but it wasn't mine: “Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

The grace that is greater than all my sin: If I spoke of God’s Grace—in loving me and redeeming me from sin—for every hour of the rest of my life, I wouldn’t have time to tell it all.

When justice was served: But not to me; to the perfect, sinless Son of God. There are times I want to call “FOUL!” on my life, times I say I wish there had been justice in a given situation. But that’s only because I fail to remember what true justice really demands.

Where mercy wins: Every single day, every breath of my life, is as a result of the mercy of Christ.

The kindness of Jesus that draws me in: The opposite of what I in myself deserve…but He showers His kindness instead.

Victory over the enemy: The victory has already been won!! It’s not my battle to fight—it’s a gift the Christ already waged the war for, that I am simply to allow HIM to apply to and live out in my life.

Freedom that was won for me: Freedom from fear. Freedom from failure. Freedom to be known and to know. To be loved and to love. To be served and to serve. Freedom as a gift from Him, applied by Him, in and through this weak vessel.

Life overcome the grave: Our Savior is RISEN!!! And that resurrection power is at work in each and every one of His children!

This is my story, this is my song,

Praising my Savior all the day long.

One more thing that is finally getting through my thick skull: There WILL be more challenges in my future. More twists & turns in the road. More apparently deep, dark valleys. Maybe even tomorrow. But, Lord help me, when those times come I want to turn more quickly to Your Truth. To root my confidence deeply in You, not in my comfort or things going my way. To say with Mary, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to Your word” (Luke 1:38).

Please join me in praying that for me and, if you dare, maybe for yourself as well.

**Three weeks ago, I heard I had to leave my initial/temporary housing by the end of September. And that I couldn’t move into the house down the street—that I was sure was ideal—because of a logistical detail. My emotions and insecurities proceeded to throw an internal hissy fit. A night of zero sleep followed, and for several days the fear and despair and hopelessness came rolling back over me.

I’m so thankful to our team leaders and my team mates for supporting me through that. And I can now say I’m thankful it happened, because God used it as a catalyst to push me out of the comfortable coasting (from two months of almost all great days) and back onto the road of proactive, intentional healing. Also, in a stroke of divine irony, the new home I moved to, where I initially didn’t want to be, has been an amazing fit and a real gift. So I was fighting God, when of course He knew better all along!!

Waiting on God

God is good – All the time;

All the time – God is good.

While this can be a cliché statement in the church, and thus carries the danger of minimization that clichés can have, it doesn’t change the fact that it is TRUE. And it’s a statement that my mind is reminding my heart of tonight and will continue to do so in the days to come.

On Friday I was informed that my presence was needed (as the minutes taker) at a meeting at our other center starting on Monday. Sunday after church, I found out that the car I was riding in would be departing at 4 a.m. the next morning. No, I wasn’t thrilled…as I’m sure you can imagine! But I’m always excited to spend time with the Kobwin family so I was looking forward to that.

As my mom says, “expectations will get you every time!” :P

I don’t remember when my cough had started this time. I know I came down with congestion & a cough on May 13^th after reporting a long event. But thanks to the nasal adjustment my osteotherapist gave me the next day, lots of vitamins and a few doses of Nyquil, I didn’t feel too bad during my safari trip that Mon-Wed.

This past Sunday afternoon, I again ended up reporting a long event. I came home absolutely exhausted, and at some point the cough had come back. So I took it with me to Kobwin.

In the meantime, one of my sisters here had walked through the painful loss of her first (early-term) pregnancy. She spent almost a week in the hospital before the staff confirmed that the baby was no longer alive or inside. Watching her and her husband walk through that was painful. But in the last week and a half, I have also been encouraged by their example and testimony. No, it’s not easy. It’s HARD. But I’ve seen them lean on God, give their baby back to Him, and grow stronger in their relationship with one another.

So on Monday of this week, I woke up really early and boarded the car. It was packed, since it was also serving as transport for a staff family moving back to that general area. We ended up making three unplanned stops – two dealing with tires (one tire went flat) and another for an hour and a half on the side of the road after a hose pipe busted (or something along those lines). Instead of reaching our destination at lunch time and starting meetings then, our van didn’t reach there until around 6 p.m.

I was exhausted and ready to crash, despite having slept some in the car. But the decision was made to meet from 8-10 p.m. that night. And I was staying with a Ugandan staff member in her house rather than at the guesthouse like I expected. Which was good, because otherwise I would have hardly seen her at all, but it came with its own challenges (namely, bathroom facilities).

I think it was that night that I felt how inadequate I was for the situation – and I started praying for God’s grace to sustain me through the next days. My hostess made apologies for the dust from the roof (papyrus matting) and for the rats that lived in the roof. Thankfully I really didn’t notice the latter, but I think the former exacerbated my cough.

A young boy who came with his dad in the van I was riding in had slept almost all day on Monday. That night, he had a high fever. So as I went to bed that night, that was my prayer focus – as well as thankfulness for a very positive update I had heard in the meeting.

The health of my relationship with God has really been under fire in the past months/year. I’ve kept trying to press through, and I’ve talked about it with my mentor here. But nothing had seemed to be shifting noticeably. In the past 2.5 weeks, I’ve been going through a Beth Moore Bible study, “Believing God,” in preparation for co-leading it with another lady here starting next week. Both this study and a book my mentor and I are reading through has been bringing to life the reminders about God that I’ve needed to hear again.

So on Monday night as I prayed for the little boy, I was so encouraged to notice a difference in my heart’s attitude. There’s not a concrete way to explain it, but my belief and faith were stronger that God could and would intervene, in His time & way. That encouraged my heart, and I know it wasn’t because of ME. It is God’s grace.

The next morning (yesterday), I was so blessed to hear that he was doing ok, and that he and his father had slept well (one of my specific prayer requests).

The meetings started at about 9 a.m. and continued with only three 45-minute breaks until 9 p.m. The heat at Kobwin (especially inside buildings during the day) meant that we met outside. Which also meant that my computer battery life ended up being something of an issue. So during the last two breaks I had to walk a few minutes away to the office, the only place with sockets at the center.

By break time (10:30 a.m., which always includes tea and snacks in Uganda), I noticed that I had a headache. Thankfully I always carry ibuprofen with me, so I took one. And the rest of the day, I found myself watching the clock for when I could take one again. Each one gave me about two hours of relief, enough to carry on my responsibilities, but I was not feeling great.

The meetings finally wrapped up, and I was told we would be getting up at 5 a.m. to leave for the long drive back home to Kasana. Oh bother. I was sad that the hectic schedule meant I had barely said three sentences to any of my friends there other than my hostess. Additionally, one of the families that I’m closest to wasn’t even around, they were on leave (vacation).

I went back to the house where I was staying, packed things up, and got myself to bed as fast as I could since I was once again exhausted. My cough kept me awake longer than I wanted, until the cough drop I took started helping. Then just a few hours later, I awoke again. My skin was hot to my own touch, but I was shivering in violent spurts. I pulled the heavy blanket over me, and tried to pray and sleep again. Twice, as I prayed for peace, I immediately felt my tense, shivering body relax. Thankfully it didn’t take too long to fall back asleep.

We got on the road at around 6 this morning, and thankfully the trip back was much less eventful. The van was also roomier, since obviously we weren’t taking back the load we had carried on the way up. So I was able to stretch out on a bench seat and sleep some. But coughing and the bumpy road were not kind to my headache, in spite of still being on ibuprofen.

We safely reached home at about 2 p.m. This afternoon was our weekly staff fellowship, and I went even though I still didn’t feel great. As I forced myself to unpack to clear off my bed, I couldn’t help but think about how the last time I felt healthy for an extended period of time was probably in early March, before my last Kobwin trip and before rainy season started.

Rainy season here for me brings frequent sneezing fits (especially in the morning) and a drippy nose. Probably a reaction to the cooler temperatures and mold.

An example of the latter: I have a pair of sandals I have worn very frequently over the past year and a half. Recently, I didn’t put them on for a couple weeks because I needed to do a bit of sewing on them to shorten the elastic straps. In the meantime, mold started to grow on my sandals.

On Sunday I had given them a good scrubbing (Oh, maybe that’s why my cough came back??), and they look so clean now! It’s funny how you don’t fully realize just how dirty something has gradually gotten until you clean it thoroughly.

Anyway, It’s been a rough three months, full of ups and downs health-wise. In my room, I have a calendar with the names of God on it. Interestingly, May’s name was Jehovah Rophe, “The God Who Heals.” As I looked at the calendar this evening, preparing to flip it, I had just taken my temperature to find that I have a slight fever for the third or fourth distinct time in the past three months.

My heart wanted to scoff at the promise I had welcomed so hopefully at the beginning of May. But then I re-read May’s verse: “Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits, who forgives all your iniquity; who heals all your diseases” (Psalm 103:2-3). I was struck by the order of that. It’s not God’s physical healing that has priority. No, it’s the spiritual healing that every believer has received which is primary. And it’s on that basis that I can proclaim God’s goodness tonight.

So even when I was struck by another fit of shivering as I wrote this post, even though I still have a fever (101 now), I can and will continue to proclaim God’s goodness. I can and will choose to be thankful for the many blessings I have received from God, which are too innumerable to count. And I can and will rest in my salvation by grace. On our long journey north on Monday, we witnessed multiple evidences of what a blessing that is. But that’s too long of a story for an already-mammoth post. Check out my ministry Facebook page on Friday for that.

As I close tonight, yes I would appreciate your prayers. But I find in my own heart the courage to pray “God, let Your will be done” rather than demanding that I feel perfectly fine when I wake up in the morning. First item on tomorrow’s agenda, sleep in. Second item, go get a malaria test. For the third time in as many months. If it’s like the other two times, the test will come back negative, but I’ll still feel crummy for an unknown length of time. But God is still good, ALL the time.

Thursday evening update: The blood test for malaria did come back positive this time, but that was almost a relief as then the treatment is obvious. I took my second dose this evening, four more to go.

God's Love for Us

Yesterday was, I am afraid, another one of "those days."

Jill is back in the office with me starting Tuesday, which is wonderful! And I'm going home two weeks from today, which is also wonderful!! But yesterday, thanks to a few other things as well, the emotions started snowballing quickly and early.

I'm so thankful that God reminded me to lean on Him in that moment, because if He hadn't, I am not sure if I would have made it through the day. Without Him, I am so weak!

But I did make it through, all by His Grace.

When we got to our weekly staff fellowship in the evening, one of our staff members came to share with us what she had recently learned at a conference about how to counsel people. But instead of jumping in to a list of things we should do, she went back to the beginning: reminding us that love is the goal of counseling others, and that "We cannot do that unless we are receiving God's love into our hearts regularly."

So instead of talking at us about how to help others, she gave us verses to meditate on as we opened up our hearts to God's love for us. Afterwards, this is what I wrote:

I am a child of God--Beloved and Precious. The child of a Prodigal God,* One who will spare NO expense in redeeming His people. He did it at the time of the Exodus (Deut. 7:7-8), He pursued His people through generations (Jer. 31:3), and He did it again through Jesus (Rom. 5:8).

God spared no expense. He poured out the most precious thing in the entire Universe: the blood of His Son (John 3;16). Because He loved us, because He loved me. Not because of any righteousness I had done or could ever do---my father's father's father's father for generations existed only in God's foreknowledge when Christ chose & pledged to make that ultimate sacrifice (Eph. 2:4-5). It is ALL by grace, all by His lavished love (1 John 3:1).

Lord, open the floodgates of my soul to Your love. Saturate me with You--mind, heart, body & soul--so that when life squeezes me and jostles me, it is Your love which overflows.

*This idea comes from Tim Keller's book of the same name, in which he points out that the real meaning of "prodigal" is extravagant, although the "parable of the prodigal son" often makes us think of it in terms of wandering from home. In that book, Tim Keller shows how the parable is really about the Prodigal Father (God) who rejoices so much in us.

Of Mango Juice & Broom Trees

Today was one of “those days” – days when one feels overloaded & overwhelmed.

I travelled back on Tuesday from a week of vacationing out at Musana Camps, NHU’s beautiful property on the shores of Lake Victoria. But by this afternoon, any rest during that week seemed hardly worth the piles of work I came back to.

So many things to do, chiefly reading & processing 300ish letters from our primary & senior students to their sponsors. But so many other things too, pressing things that I just can’t seem to make time for. Budgets & emails & new sponsorships, and a pile of Christmas packages for kids just waiting to be opened & checked.

I was tired and frustrated and on edge this afternoon. One of my friends had stopped by several times to do various things at the admin offices. So we had greeted & chatted a bit, and she could see I was tired.

Trying to get some of the letters read, I could just feel my frustration building. A class where the teacher had written a letter and just had all the students copy it (true, it’s a young class, but they should still be able to answer simple questions for themselves). Other things that hadn’t gone quite like I expected.

I was about ready to throw in the towel and go for a run to vent my pent up feelings, even though it was 3 p.m. and I was nearly sweating just sitting still in my office.

Then my friend showed up again. She handed me a manila envelope, strangely shaped. Inside was a box of cold mango juice she had bought for me.

Such a seemingly small thing – but to me it was not a small thing: it was a big thing.

Because as she turned and left before I had even finished opening it and thanking her, my mind flew back to Tuesday night.

That night, we women here at Kasana had started a video-based Bible study: “Walking with God in the Desert,” by Ray Vander Laan. He’s a Bible teacher who takes people out to the Holy Land and creates studies about Christian history & heritage and lessons to be learned from that.

There have definitely been times in the past year and in the past months when I have felt the blasting heat of a metaphorical desert wind. Moving & living half way around the world from everything familiar isn’t easy. Carrying a lot of responsibility for months can be a draining challenge.

But, as Ray reminded us, it’s in the desert we often are reminded that it is God who is faithful and sufficient, and it is in the desert times that we can learn to fall in love with Him all over again.

In the second video lesson we watched, Ray talked about the concept in the Bible of God being the shade at our right hand. He said the Hebrew word refers to what we call a broom tree. It’s more like a shrub or a bush: something which can give relief from the heat, but not like an oak tree that more completely blocks out the burning sunlight.

God doesn’t promise us that He will magically make all of our problems disappear! But He does promise us that He will give us the shade and relief at all times when we need Him. And His grace is sufficient for us to take the next step, to make it through the next challenge. What’s more, God often uses the community of His people to bring that shade to one another.

This afternoon, God used my friend to remind me about what I had already so quickly forgotten. That box of mango juice was my broom tree for the afternoon. I thank God for my friends here, including this one who’s “small” act of kindness honestly turned around my whole frame of mind.

The only way to explain it is God. A box of mango juice doesn’t really turn me from someone who’s frustrated and fed up into someone who can take the next step and the next step and make progress in reading letters. It was just a practical object lesson & reminder that God is enough and He will provide the strength I need. I had written those same words just a couple hours before, because I knew with my head they were true. But God in His grace sent my friend with a box of mango juice because He knew I needed to remember and feel it with my heart this afternoon.

Because of what my friend did for me, I was also able to reach out to other friends and hopefully be a bit of God’s shade for them too. That’s how God’s grace works. It’s not just something I take and keep for myself. It’s something that I receive in order to pass it on to others – for the glory of our loving Father.

So as you go about your day, maybe think about how you can be God’s broom tree for others in their struggles. And don’t forget that God is always there for you in your desert, no farther away than you can reach your right hand.

Boasting in My Weakness

I’ve got to say, it’s not easy for me to think about writing this post. Even simply typing the title made me pause.

I’m the kind of person who likes to be right—who needs to be right (or at least I think I do). I want to be the one who’s dependable and got it all together.

But, truth is, I’m not – and I don’t.

God is at work in my heart and life. Often I wish He would hurry up and finish so that I would just be good to go. But then I wouldn’t need Him as desperately, would I?

In the past weeks and months, I’ve been wrestling with apathy. Well, actually, a more accurate description would be that I’ve been giving in to apathy without putting up a lot of fight.

I’ve been battling discouragement, hypocrisy, etc. You name one of those inner struggles that’s so easy to put a mask over, I’ve probably been dealing with it to some extent.

But God – He sees right through my masks. Jesus Christ sees my heart with His eyes of blazing fire that our teacher talked about this morning in church (from Revelations 2:18). And yet this same God doesn’t only see in me what I so often focus on, the sin & failures, the guilt. God the Father sees in me the righteousness of His Son, our Savior.

That’s what He reminded me of this afternoon as I knelt on my bed, crying for shame & guilt of my shortcomings. And to my heart, three simple words, yet so profound that it will take eternity to understand: He loves me.

Yes, in myself I am weak – so very prone to give into the temptation of the easy, selfish path. But in my weakness is the opportunity for His strength to be displayed, for His glory.

Because if living the Christian life—a life that pleases God—is something that I could work up to do in my own strength, there would have been no need for Christ to come.

I need Him, He who has fought the war and won the victory; He who has defeated the enemies of sin and Satan and death. The balance is there: The war has been won, and yet I am called to fight the daily battles by the power of the Victor flowing in and through me.

Yesterday as I worked on laundry, some of these same thoughts which have been common these past weeks were already circling in my mind. I shut off the podcast I was listening to, and prayed seeking to listen to my God instead. And in that, I was reminded of the need to put to death my old man, my fleshly desires, each day. But I can’t even crucify my own flesh – that can only be done through the Spirit who brings life in the place of death (Romans 8:13).

Thanks be to God, it is not that I must struggle against my flesh in order to win God’s acceptance and approval. On the contrary, He has adopted me as His daughter through Christ’s death – thereby giving the only reason I have hope of choosing life over the sin and death which form our natural, fallen state (Romans 8:12-17).

And yesterday, as He called me to the beginning of this memory, my mind flew back to a little something I had started in March and finished in June:

I say I started it in March. That’s not strictly true. March is when I pulled some images of crosses from the Internet and selected a font, all of which I began to combine and trace to make this image. But the story of this picture started almost four years ago, on my 21^st birthday at JBU’s Sunday night chapel service. It was there that the words “I am Thine” (referring to myself in relationship to my heavenly Lord, obviously) became emblazoned on my mind. They’ve been there ever since, and often my heart has repeated that cry.

The cross was added to the mental image later, in Northern Ireland. That’s a story of its own, perhaps for another day. But over these past two years since that trip, I’ve been wanting to draw this. Last month, the image was finally completed. And yesterday, it suddenly took on even deeper significance. Not only is the cross the symbol of Christ’s redemption of our souls, it is also the symbol of what we are called to: To take up our cross each day – not to earn our salvation, but because we have it (Luke 9:23-25, Philippians 3:7-11).

These words, this symbol – they are far beyond anything I can accomplish in and of myself. It is all Christ. Therefore, I will gladly boast in my weakness, that through me the strength of His grace may be seen (2 Corinthians 12:9). For His glory alone.

Fresh Love

{I’ve stolen/borrowed this title, as you’ll see later – so I can’t take credit for it!}

This past Thursday evening, I hit a slump of discouragement. There are several probable factors that created it, but in the end God used it to once again remind me how constantly and desperately I need Him. He is all-sufficient, if only I would have the faith to trust and rely on Him rather than myself.

Since then, I have spent some time reading Nehemiah 8 and 9. Those two chapters focus on the reading of the law to the Jews who had returned after exile, and of their response to it. The people were grieved when the law was read and explained by the Levites – and though they were encouraged to not grieve because “the joy of the LORD is your strength” (Neh. 8:10), they later returned to pour their hearts out in confession before God.

During this gathering, the Levites stood up before the people and recounted the history of Israel poetically – but what I found most interesting as I read it this morning is that they started off by blessing God and worshipping Him. The tale they told was one of Israelite rebellion and unfaithfulness, but it was framed and laced throughout with the mercy of God and His worthiness to be obeyed and praised.

As I closed my Bible and prepared to get ready for church, a thought flitted through my mind; something about feeling as though I was just slogging through, trying to do what I knew I should, but often without my heart fully into it. Little did I know then how that very thought would tie into church.

I arrived at church a little early. While sitting there listening to the choir finishing their practice for the service, I watched as a couple of our church leaders brought out the elements for communion. Somehow, that simple sight awakened emotion in me, and a tear had to be wiped from my cheek.

A little later in the service, the Scripture passage for the day’s sermon was read, Revelations 2:1-7. The meat of those verses hit me right between the eyes. Christ, speaking to the church in Ephesus, says:

“I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: have forsaken the love you had at first” (Rev. 2:2-4).

Yes, I thought. Yes, that’s exactly it. That could nearly just as well be speaking about me.

My mind flashed back to a recent group discussion in which I was simultaneously frustrated and prideful. I found myself unduly frustrated with others for not having a working understanding of theological principles which I’ve had something of a grasp on for almost as long as I can remember. And thus the pride came into play as well.

I try to work hard and perform well, often for the sake of giving glory to Christ. I make an effort to hold fast to Scripture, making it my foundation, learning so that I may I understand truth and discern the lie. I do my best to press through times of discouragement.

But where is the love in my heart?

Do I do all these things merely because I am supposed to? Or because my heart is on fire with a love and passion for God and His glory?

While I desire the latter, the former is often more accurate. Just trying to slog through life, to get through one more day.

I don’t want to live like that.

I want to return to the first love of Christ. The love that came, not because of anything I had done but because of what He did. The fresh love, as the preacher put it, that flows from Him through me—of which I am merely a channel, not a creator.

During the sermon, the pastor for the day clarified and reechoed many of these thoughts which had recently been swirling, half-formed, in my mind. In his conclusion, he read 1 Corinthians 13:1-8a. Reminding us that without love, we are nothing. Reminding us of just what kind of love Christ has for us.

As we took communion, our worship leader played a song that had really struck me in church a couple weeks ago. I munched my small square of bread and drank my small cup of juice, remembering what Christ has done for me; remembering that all is by grace.

And so a new day continues, a new hour lies before me. May it be filled with a fresh love for Christ and for others, by His grace.

Learning to Live in Freedom

“‘Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free……Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin. Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:32, 34-36).

It started a couple months ago when I was at Kobwin. When I was hesitant and unsure, one of the family mothers spoke words that went straight to my heart and embedded deeply there, beyond the surface details of the situation. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “Be free.”

Be free.

Such simple words. But so easy to forget. Since that day, that same idea keeps popping up. So much so that my new bracelet became a combination of hope and freedom. (I haven’t posted the story about my bracelets. I’ll have to write that sometime soon.)

The Holy Spirit had been convicting me the past couple weeks (ever since I thought about & shared my testimony with my Institute class) that much of my life I have been bound by fear of one sort or another. Fear of failure/imperfection, fear of rejection, fear of not being in control (fear of misfortunes). And when fear is a major motivating factor in my life, it chases peace and joy.

Of course, I know with my head that I can’t keep myself from making mistakes in my own strength. I know that my identity must not be bound by what other people think of me (what “they say”). And I know that there’s no way I can prevent bad things from happening! But knowing the truth doesn’t always mean I live by it, sadly.

Almost two weeks ago, there was a situation in which I was trying to serve others out of my own strength, and probably for my own honor. But when my strength ran out, I started behaving rudely to the people around me. In those moments, I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t stop. I was exhausted, shattered by the end of it. I’ve been feeling that shattered, exhausted feeling a couple times since then….

Even as I was walking back to my house, I knew that I would need to apologize to some people. I can’t remember if I confessed it to God in prayer that night or the next morning……but as I thought about what had happened the following day, I fell into the old habit of berating myself for falling short of my own expectations. And God’s, right??

“You were behaving like such a brat!” I told myself, among other things. But as my mind thought that last word, it flew to a story in a childhood series I loved to read. At first, I wanted to ignore it as a rabbit trail, away from what I thought was important at the moment. But I felt the Spirit prompting me to remember the story.

{As a very brief explanation, the series is an allegory about God’s Story in three parts: Tales of the Kingdom, the Resistance, and the Restoration. The world is pictured in the first two as the Enchanted City, under the control of an evil emperor. The true King spends the first book living in exile, but he comes back to the city in the second book.}

In this particular chapter, young orphaned children are forced to work underground keeping the city’s massive sewage and power systems working. They are called Sewer Rats and Boiler Brats. And they live their lives bound in fear: fear that the city’s infrastructure will grind to a halt on their watch (as it often did), bringing a dreaded visit from the emperor or at least his evil henchmen. Which always brought punishment for failing what was really an impossible task.

But one night, the exiled King miraculously appears in their dark underground world. He offers them love, acceptance, and freedom—and he leads them out of the prison of fear back to his kingdom outside the borders of the Enchanted City. In his kingdom, there are no orphans. There are adopted sons and daughters.

I don’t know when I had last thought about that series—it had been a while. But God used that story, along with other things He has been reminding me of, to learn something “new” with my heart (of course, it’s not really new. Rather, it’s an old lesson. But it’s something which has often been stuck at a head knowledge level in my life).

So often, I fail. And when I fail, I mentally beat myself up over it. And I feel like God must be so disappointed in me. When I turn to Him and confess, I usually do so in an attitude of trying to humiliate myself before Him like the prodigal son tried to do. And so often, I find myself met with God’s grace and love and forgiveness and acceptance—not the condemnation I know so well I deserve. I know this is because through Christ’s finish work—wonder of wonders—God sees in me the righteousness of Christ.

That morning as I sat here thinking about my mistake, and yet the freedom I have in Christ from guilt and condemnation, God taught my heart in a deeper way than I had known before that the past is the past. It does no good to wallow in guilt and to hold onto that feeling that I have failed. I can never change the past. I can choose the present and hope for the future. But the choice is not one I am required to make in my own strength – and the hope is not an empty, wishful thinking. Both are guided and guarded by Christ. And the past? Its mistakes are wiped clean by Christ.

I don’t by any means wish to cheapen God’s grace. That is, of course, the danger with such a line of thinking. Paul felt the same tension in Romans 5:20-6:1ff. But just yesterday I was part of a conversation in which we were discussing the difference between conviction and guilt. My tendency is definitely to guilt trip myself….and it’s a habit that I can see God calling me out of.

Our Father does not want His beloved children bound by the guilt of the past. Jesus Christ has dealt with the past, IT IS FINISHED (John 19:30). We are FREE from the guilt of the past (though not always all the consequences—BUT GOD will use even them for good) because of HIS completed work.

“Blessed are those whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the one whose sin the Lord will never count against them” (Psalms 32:1-2, as quoted in Romans 4:8). The truth and beauty of those verses swept over my soul amidst tears just a few days ago. I’ve often been living under a cloud of guilt and fear for months and years. But thanks be to God for His patience with me! He’s never giving up, and the light of His truth and grace and FREEDOM are continuing to break through.

Because He is good, and His mercies are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness.

When Life Changes in a Moment

Tuesday, January 25, 2011. It seemed like a perfectly normal day, but I will forever mark it as the day God revolutionized my life. I stood in chapel at my small, Christian college singing during the worship time. For some reason I sat further back than normal—nearly under the shelter of the upstairs balcony.

As I sang, surrounded by hundreds of my fellow students and yet feeling alone, my mind returned to the questions I had asked so often throughout high school and my first year and a half of college. “Why God? Why is it that I feel like I want a deeper relationship with You and yet nothing changes? Why do You seem so silent? I try so hard.”

There was no rending of the heavens, no vision of glorious majesty. But there was a simple Thought, sent—I believe—by the Holy Spirit at just the moment He had crafted in His infinite plan.

“What you do is not a question of earning My love. You can never earn it. Salvation is a free gift, based on nothing you do, My child. I already love you more than you know – no matter what.”

Hearing that truth and truly realizing what it meant in my life for the first time acted as a single beam of light into what had long been the dark room of my spiritual strivings. Looking back now, I can see that I have always tended toward attempting to earn assurance of others’ love and affection for me by working as a people pleaser. I naturally brought that same idea over to my relationship with God.

Yes, I knew intellectually that I could not earn my salvation. And yet as a Christian I had spent the previous years of my life trying to make myself worthy of God’s love and approval – lacking the faith that the Immanuel who came to save people from sin could truly accept me with all of my shortcomings and failings. In some ways it seems so simple and silly – it is in Scripture…I learned those verses and I should have known that receiving salvation did not suddenly mean that I must curry God’s favor (Gal. 3:1-3). Nevertheless that was how I thought, and it is still a trap I often find myself falling into.

I am still nowhere near the perfection I would love to achieve. But the embedding of that truth deep into my spiritual psyche started me on a journey of personal revival which God is still unfolding. The beauty of it all is that there was nothing special about that day – no reason from my end for the blessings I have since received. It is all Grace – God’s amazing Grace. And that’s the whole point. Yes, it is tempting to question why not sooner. But the answer goes right back to the lesson. God’s Grace is not bound by human understanding. No, I didn’t deserve what happened on January 25^th any more than I had any other day. But that is the beauty of Grace.

{This was originally posted in September of 2012 on Thrive80, a Moody blog that I wrote for occasionally. It was part of a series about "Inciting Incidents"--moments which shape one's life and story--to promote a new book for them, and so this is the moment I wrote about.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the day this story is about, so I wanted to put a link on my Facebook page. But when I went back looking for this post, I discovered that the old blog, including my posts, is no longer online. So I re-post here what I wrote for them there, unedited.

Even four years after that day and almost two and a half years after writing this post, I am still learning Grace. And God has proved good and faithful and abundantly gracious during every step of that journey.}

The Refiner’s Fire

{I just wrote this in my journal this morning, but felt I should share it here too. It’s all by His grace. Without Him, I am nothing.}

It’s been a month now since Jill fell and broke her arm. And it has been a hard, hard month. Of course there have been good moments and times when I have felt God’s blessings….but most of the time I have been stressed and/or frustrated.

I know that’s not the right response. I know I’ve got to trust GOD to work all things for Good and to {help me} live each moment righteously through Him….but my flesh so so so easily takes charge, I try to do it on my own, and I usually end up so angry that I’m nearly shaking {when things go wrong, when things happen that are outside of my control}.

Abba Father! I come to You because there is nowhere else to go. Abba, if there’s one thing I’m being confronted with every day here, it is that I am not in control. Father, I confess that my hunger for control is sin. It’s pride. It’s evidence of a failure to trust You.

God, I spent months {last year} asking You to break me, to strip away everything from my life that was not of You. I can feel the heat of the fire, Refiner of my soul. I can feel it and I want so badly to run away, to escape it.

Abba Father! Please don’t let me go! Please don’t let me pull away from Your sanctifying grasp. Abba, I beg You, please keep me – no, please make me to be humble and soft before You, my Master and my King of Glory.

For God, You are Good! And Father, I am thankful. Even though my flesh quivers as I write that….I am thankful to You. I thank You and praise You for Your grace, Your patience with my frail stumblings.

Jesus, You are the Christ. You alone have eternal life. And so, no matter what, help me soul to trust in You.

There is nowhere else—no one else to whom—I would rather turn.

Satisfy me in every moment with Your love, Your peace, Your grace. May Your indestructible Joy be my only strength.

For Your glory alone.

                Amen.

{As I finish typing this in and prepare to get ready for the day, I don’t want to leave this moment, this place of my soul. Because I know that there will be trials and temptations in this day, probably before I even reach the office and get this posted before starting work. And I forget so easily! But those next steps of physical life must be taken, and it’s an opportunity to trust God and to put my faith into practice. That’s how our Creator made life work. But He is also always there to turn to in prayer each moment. Live through me, Abba.}

God's Grace in my Brokenness

{I wrote this last Tuesday in the rawness of the moment. But I've kept coming back to in my mind...feeling that I should post it here. And so I share it with you, not because it puts me in a good light, but because it shows the Glory and Grace of my heavenly Father, that He would receive one such as me.}

It’s all gonna burn.

I can imagine myself torching my room in a moment of fed-up frustration and watching with a look of smug satisfaction as it all—every bit—gets reduced to ashes.

None of this STUFF lasts into eternity. And yet I’ve spent so so so much time in collecting this stuff. In organizing this stuff. In cleaning this stuff.

And for what end? Because in this stuff I trust? Because in this stuff I hold onto the past? Because this stuff carries my memories?

I’m struck again by the tension of living in the light of eternity vs. being too involved in the perishable things of this life.

It’s all gonna burn.

And as I try to answer the NHICF application question of what motivates me, the tears roll down my face. I reach out a tentative hand

“God, are You there?”

This time, this time at home. It’s supposed to be a time of preparation. It’s supposed to be a time of relating to people here, of reconnecting with them. Of gathering a support team so that I can return to ministry in Kasana.

But I’ve squandered so much. I wake with a headache so many mornings, because of staying up too late, usually binge watching my TV show addiction.

Last night I was watching as I finished cards…but the night before that, when I was up until 2 a.m.? There was no profit there.

“God, I want to stop running.” This is when the tears came. Because it feels like no matter how many times I come to this point, no matter how many times I say this, still I go back.

I am no different than the Israelites. They turn away. They forget the Lord who has done wonders among them. Even when it’s right in their face, still they question and go the way of their own stubborn hearts.

I say I want to go back to be in community with people. I say I want to touch the lives of others.

In the past two months, what have I done?

My life doesn’t start when my feet touch the Ugandan soil once more. My life is NOW.

And those choices I’ve been making NOW to indulge, to relax?

Those have been establishing patterns and addictions.

And yes, idols.

Distractions and stumbling blocks.

I know this. I know it all too well from years of experience.

And still. Still I go back. Still I wander away from the only One who is my root & anchor.

“Abba, please rip out this selfish heart of mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

There’s nothing else to say.

I feel the weakness of my own soul. I know the promises are vain on my lips.

How long until I fall back in? Maybe a week, maybe a day.

But the answer to that first question is yes. Yes, my God is here with me. He kneels beside me in my brokenness. He reaches out to touch my heaving shoulders.

Does He perhaps cry with me in my disappointment and regret?

But He doesn’t want me to stay there.

The broken self-heart turned to Him, yes. But not being stuck in the regret of the past.

Tomorrow is a new day, the next moment is a new opportunity.

And He extends that grace to me once more. Oh, but my heart trembles and fears the thought of taking unrighteous advantage of His grace.

I can do nothing.

I am no one.

But God.

But God offers unto us the resurrection power of Christ.

His work is available to change our hearts—to change my heart.

And each moment, every breath is a new chance to say no to self and yes to His conforming, redeeming work.

Abba, I confess my weakness to You. I confess that I am undeserving of Your grace. And yet I ask for it once again—I know there is no other place to stand. Paraclete, please renew Your Spirit within me. Guide me in Your ways, let me not go down my own selfish path.

Thank You that You can and will. To You be the glory.

{When I came back to my computer from eating lunch, I found this email waiting from a dear sister:

Hey,
I love you Esther Carey. I want to remind you that God's grace is enough today even in our weaknesses and mistakes. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8:1).
"But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9.
"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." 2 Corinthians 4:7.
I'm telling this to myself too. Trust his power today.

My first thought was “wait, how did she know???” I hadn’t posted anything anywhere, but she spoke exactly the words I needed to hear. Praise the Lord J}

Cast Your Burdens

{This is a continuation of my previous couple of posts}

So what is to be done with the burdens we all carry, especially the burdens of sin Paul referred to in Galatians 6? As I thought about all of this a couple weeks ago, a couple different thoughts and connections flew through my mind.

One was a song I first remember hearing about a month ago at church here. It hit me deep in my heart:

I’d trade these ashes in for beauty,
And wear forgiveness like a crown;
Coming to kiss the feet of mercy,
I lay every burden down:
At the foot of the cross.

The second (and closely related) was thinking about Pilgrim’s Progress – his heavy heavy burden fell away off of his back as he worshipped at the cross.

It’s not like were expected to deal with our burdens on our own! In fact, trying to do so will only end up in disappointment, because there is no way that we can do this life—especially no way that we can lighten the burden of our sin—on our own. The fact is that Jesus has already done that work!

As Paul writes in another letter: “our old man was crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be done away with that we should no longer be slaves of sin” (Rom. 6:6, emphasis mine). Christ came and lived and died and rose again to take the burden away. The work is finished!!!

It’s like that old kid’s song I listened to as a child (anyone else remember Donut Man? :D) “Cast your burden unto Jesus, for He cares for you!”[1] I’ve heard it a few times here in Uganda, so maybe that’s part of the reason it’s on my mind J

The song mostly comes from 1 Peter 5:6, though it could also partly come from Psalm 55:22. In 1 Peter 5, the verse (“casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you”) directly follows his admonition to submit to one another and to “Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time” (1 Pet. 5:5 and 6). I heard a really good message on this passage my junior year of college while resting in bed, and I’ve always meant to go back and give it a listen when I have my full brain power…..

At any rate, another relevant passage to this topic is Matthew 11:28-30, the oft quoted “come to Me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”—but don’t forget the next verses, the admonition to “Take My yoke….for My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Now, I don’t claim to have much theological training or to be an expert on interpreting Scripture….but take a look at the rest of Matthew 11 that proceeds these verses (and yes, I know chapter divisions aren’t inspired either…).

The chapter starts with John the Baptist sending two of his disciples from prison. It continues with Jesus rebuking cities that did not repent of their sin even after seeing the signs of Christ. The verses mentioned in the previous paragraph, examined in this context could be seen in a new light.

The beginning of the chapter shows that wearing the yoke of being Christ’s messenger—while much better than bearing the weight of sin—is not all happy-go-lucky. John was in prison…John was beheaded, simply for declaring God’s truth about sin. And we can wonder at God’s wonders all we want, but unless we repent….we’re worse off than Tyre and Sidon, worse off even than Sodom. That’s a pretty damning view of things, and it comes straight from what Jesus said!

I guess my point here is that God doesn’t take our burden of sins off of our shoulders for our own sakes or so that we can have an easy life. He saves us for a reason: For HIS GLORY, and so that we may SERVE HIM and His people. So YES, we should celebrate the fact that we are no longer burdened by sin! But obviously, we should not use that freedom as license to run off and do our own thing in our own way.

I would say that my general tendency has been to swing too far on the side of still carrying around guilt for my sin….although I know there have certainly been times when I have swung to the “then I’ll do what I want!” extreme. I’ll talk about the former in my next post, and tie in a song that’s currently pretty popular. Any guesses as to what song? ;-)

---

[1] If you missed out on this classic of my childhood, you can check it out on YouTube here. This is exactly the version I watched on VHS who knows how many times, down to the cute little girls at 1:00 and 1:45 :D

Giving up CONTROL pt. 2

A week ago, I was in Siloam Springs visiting my college friends for a long weekend. I decided to go ahead and go to the Gathering, although I ended up coming in a little late. I “just happened” to find an empty seat right in front of Laura, one of my dearest JBU friends. God knew I needed to be there, and He made sure she was right there.

The student speaker talked about serving God, as a kick-off message for the JBU service groups. And honestly, it made me really frustrated. Not because of what he was saying, but because of what I was feeling.

Back in July and August, I felt like God was leading me toward something that was much much bigger than me. I had an idea of how I was going to serve God, and I really wanted it to work out in my timing. I knew it would be hard – really hard in many ways. But I also knew that if God opened those doors, He would provide the resources and the strength for me to carry it out.

I thought I was willing to make that sacrifice, to take that step of faith. Instead, the door closed—at least for now—just as the door to applying for the job I had been filling during my internship opened up. That was a huge process in and of itself! But by the time I sat in chapel last Sunday, it seemed obvious that God was leading me toward SP and not toward the other opportunity. Which is why the chapel talk annoyed me. Here I had been willing to put myself through a lot to go and serve God. And He had shut the door! What was up with that? We’re supposed to serve God and all that, so why did He close it down??

Yes, that feeling really is as immature and selfish as it sounds. I think part of it is that I wanted to serve God on my terms, in a way that would draw attention and praise to myself. I wasn’t consciously thinking that….but it probably played a subliminal role.

God had been clear though – that chance was a definite “not now.” So I had applied and interviewed for the job before I left my internship, two weeks before my visit to JBU. And in my mind, it was obvious what ought to happen next. God had clearly led me to the internship, and He had finally brought me to a place where I felt good about staying on there and looked forward to returning to the roots I had started putting down for the past two months.

When the speaker finished, the band came up and played “Oceans” by Hillsong. I had never heard the song before, but man it sure hit me right between the eyes. As I’ve said before, for quite a while God has been teaching me about trusting Him and surrendering my plans to His. And this song really summed it up. And I didn’t know whether or not I could sing it. I knew in the back of my head that I may or may not actually get the job from SP. And here God was, asking me to surrender my plans and expectations to Him, to come to a place “where my trust is without borders.” I didn’t want to say it, because I didn’t want to mean it.

I like knowing what’s going on and what I’m doing. I don’t like change, I despise the unknown. I want to be in control of my own future, partly as a defense mechanism from 10-year old baggage that I know is not healthy and that I’m trying to let go of. And this summer, God has been working in mighty ways to show me that I cling so hard to the control because I don’t trust Him to take care of me and protect me. I don’t trust Him to have my best at heart because of how He’s let things hurt me before. And that’s hard for me to admit out loud.

So I sat there as most everyone else stood and sang. I sat and I wrestled and I cried. Because I was not willing to give up my {albeit false} sense of control. I didn’t want to go “wherever You call me” – I wanted to go back to SP where I had finally become comfortable after two long, hard months.

But He kept asking—gently and yet insistently—for me to lay it down. And I was scared. Scared that if I did, He would just slam the SP door shut in my face too. But deeper down inside, I knew that His plan would be better—even if it wouldn’t be to my ideal liking.

As I wrestled, my mind flashed back to the previous night. I had gone to the Swing Dance Society’s first swing dance evening of the semester. I don’t really know how to dance – I don’t think of myself as a very well-coordinated dancer. But the several guys who had asked me to dance with them had all been patient teachers. They put me through the paces pretty quick, trying to teach me several of the basic moves. And I had to trust them. I didn’t know what I was doing, or where I was going when they initiated a step. I just had to pay close attention to their explanations and/or the signals they made by gently tugging on one arm or the other. A lot of times, I made mistakes. Many times, I also made assumptions about what their next moves were going to be, and sometimes that got me in trouble.

As those thoughts flashed through my mind, I could see the relation between the two—trying to learn swing dance and deciding to trust Christ’s plan for my life. Pardon the analogy, but it’s as though God was holding out His hand, asking me if I would like to dance. Would I trust Him enough to place my hands in His and listen to His leading and guiding? Or would I jump to conclusions and try to do things my way, which typically ends up in me being at the wrong place in the step?

In the end, I had to give in. God thankfully has a tight enough hold on my heart that I could not truly refuse His request, even though my fleshly desires didn’t want to let go of my supposed control. The second song we sang was “Rise,” also by Hillsong. It focuses on praising God. I didn’t want to stand up and sing that song either. I wanted to stay “stuck” in a place of pitying myself for what I had to lay down.

And that too was very selfish. Who do I think I am??? Even Jesus had to submit His desires to God. And even He didn’t think it was an easy or flippant thing (see the Garden of Gethsemane!). But even He—God’s own Son—humbled Himself and submitted to one of the hardest and cruelest forms of death man has ever created (see Phil. 2). And we’re right back to the same perspective thing I was talking about in my previous post.

It’s God’s glory that matters. And thanks be to His grace and patience – He’s not going to give up on me until He has stripped me down of my selfish ambitions and pride. And no, it’s not a fun process. But He is worth so very much more. And in the good moments, I can remember what truly matters. And it’s not what I’m going to be doing at any point in the future.

Laura was wonderful and sat with me for a while afterward – we talked about letting go of the past. She came up with several good analogies that helped explain how I was feeling J She’s the best J

And you know what? I was right. God did end up shutting the SP door too. I got the call Thursday that they picked someone else. Last Sunday night helped me be prepared for that, but it’s still been hard. Friday especially I was really frustrated with God for not coming through on this and doing things my way. There were definitely lots of tears and some internal yelling going on. And I don’t confess that lightly. I forget His lessons soooo easily……

But He is still faithful, and His plan remains unchanged—His plan to bring Himself glory and to conform me to the image of His Son. To the praise of His glorious name.

What Hath God Wrought? Pt. 2

This summer, the idea of trust has become even more important, if possible, because it is even more real/pressing—and yet also harder for me mentally and emotionally. I’ve got these options in front of me, as I talked about in a previous post. I just looked back at it and realized that in some ways, I’m just rewriting that same post here. But it’s another step in the journey. Anyway, back on July 11 I went up the mountain and journaled for quite a while, laying out my three options and trying to sort through it all rationally. Then I went up higher on the mountain, half expecting God to have some definite answer for me. I climbed up on top of a rock, kind of waiting for the writing in the clouds. I know, it sounds silly. And it was, as well as demanding.

What I felt in my soul was not at all the answer I was looking for. The only thing I heard in my heart was “Trust Me.” And honestly, I was annoyed and disappointed. It took me a little while to realize that this time, for the first time that I remember, it had been a directive/command rather than a question. It’s kind of like God has proved His faithfulness over and over, and that He’s now asking me to keep stepping forward in faith, even when I don’t have the definite answers I want.

Through God’s Grace and the continuing working of the Holy Spirit in me, this sunk deeply into my soul. Because of that, when last Monday was so hard, I was able to eventually stop, back up, refocus my perspective on Him, and say “God, I don’t get what You’re doing, but I want to choose to trust You anyway.” And that was the fruit of His Spirit, because that’s not what I was feeling like doing at all.

So yeah – I left on my trip to New York. And as I was driving down to Charlotte that Wednesday, I heard a program on the radio and one of the things the speaker talked about was how heaven is a prepared place for a prepared people—how God’s primary goal in our lives is to conform us to the image of His Son. That really resonated with me. The Holy Spirit used that to show me, once again, that my perspective for the past few months has been really off. I’ve been so focused on what I am going to do with MY life, when what I should be focused on is the greater picture of what God is doing throughout the world, including—in a minuscule part—in and through me.

On Sunday, that reminder returned. From my reading through a really great devotional on 1 Corinthians 13 before church, God called me to take some time to really search my heart before Him and to intentionally confess recurrent sin patterns in my life. That’s something I really haven’t done much before, except rather superficially. That afternoon, I climbed up the mountain and found a place to do just that. I wasn’t excited about doing it, because of the whole having to admit my failures thing—even though I know God knows them, and even though I know they have already been forgiven and that He is not sitting over me in an attitude of judgment.

After a little while of doing that and praying through some things, I felt a sense of release—that God had shown me what He wanted to for that day. I know it will be an ongoing process. As I leaned back against a rock, I experienced a greater sense of peace and a better outlook on everything that had happened this summer. And for the first time, I was able to practice thanksgiving—for the ups and the downs. I tweeted my “Lesson of the Day” from that – “I choose to trust Him because I DO know what He's doing—conforming me to His Son's image—even if I don't understand/like His methods.” Because the process still doesn’t FEEL easy or fun! It’s still hard.

So Sunday evening I was really thankful for God’s continued faithfulness in my life, and reminded of how much broader of a perspective I am called to have. I was encouraged, but I was also really apprehensive about how the next day would go at the office. The last time I came back to the office after a trip out to the field, I had a really tough day. Lots of discontentment. So Monday morning during our staff devotions, I felt that nauseated feeling again, wondering how the day would go.

I went to my cubicle and started plugging away. I had lots to do – two hours of interview recordings from NY to transcribe so that I could write a story, plus sending some emails to try to gather more information to write an article about work one of our field offices is doing. I don’t remember whether it was mid-morning or mid-afternoon…but at one point I was walking back to my desk from refilling my water bottle, and I suddenly realized that I was completely at peace and had been ever since I started my work for the day.

It helped a lot that I knew exactly what to work on and didn’t have to wonder what to do….but I firmly believe the peace that I experienced yesterday went much deeper than that. I definitely believe it was an answer to the prayers of so many people who have been encouraging me throughout this process. On Saturday evening, as I was praying/reflecting, I asked God in prayer—really for the first time—“What is it that You would have me to do?” Sure, I’d been fretting about it all, and I’d been talking about waiting to see what God had for me, but I don’t think I had honestly just asked Him what He wanted.

And yes, it is a choice that He may leave up to me. But right now, I can’t make that choice because there are no doors that are definitely opened. And yesterday, there was no new information about where I’ll be headed 14 days from now. While my mind is still definitely keeping close tabs on the fact that I do feel a lot of pressure because of that, God is bringing me to a place where I am beginning to learn to be ok with that and to truly wait patiently for His timing in opening or closing doors.

I know there will still be ups and downs. That’s inevitable. But I write all this as an Ebenezer, a reminder of what God has done in my life and the journey He has brought me through. On Monday at work, “Hold On” played on my Pandora. And it pretty much summed up how I was feeling. Like I said at the beginning of this, it’s been a stormy seven weeks. But God has proved so very faithful, often despite my attitude. And I hope—and seek to trust His timing even in the midst of that hope—that the sun is beginning to break through J

I certainly appreciate your continued prayers!!!!! Primarily that my focus would be on God’s glory rather than being so wrapped up in my circumstantial worries. God gave me an object lesson on that too, on August 4 when I was out hiking with my parents. We were on a rough trail (the part I took a picture of was super smooth compared to most of what we went on, but we had finished the rough part when I thought of the analogy), and I found myself with my eyes constantly focused downward. And that’s what staring at and trying to figure out all the details of life does. It detracts from looking around at the beauty of what God is doing, or even more importantly, from looking up to glory and delight in WHO HE IS! So that is my prayer going forward. May I remember HIM first and foremost.