Of Anniversaries and Confession/Renewal

I don't know quite where to start - other than with the goodness of God's Grace :)

The back story to this post will be on my mental health journey blog, hopefully by mid-March. Then I'll link to it here. But I don't want to wait to celebrate what God is doing in the present.

This morning, I woke up around 4 a.m. and didn't fall back asleep. I was expecting this ... I am sharing a special devotional/spiritual object lesson with my coworkers and I really want it to go well!!!

But as a result, I made a good choice that it has taken me a long time (too long) to make consistently:

I read the next paragraph in Colossians 1. I had started the end of October, and had only done it twice since then. Personal devotions and prayer have been a struggle I have not been winning for many months. I've let other things crowd those two critical things out. On Saturday and yesterday evening I admitted this to one of my best friends and to my counselor ... and both of them are actively encouraging me to make a point of getting back into daily, personal relationship with God!!

This morning in Colossians, the verse that most stood out to me was 1:6b - "Since the day you heard and knew the grace of God in truth." That verse is especially poignant to me on today, January 25th. You see, it was 11 years ago today that Paraclete's light of GRACE broke into the cell of legalism where I had chained my heart. Click the link on "January 25th" above to read more about that :)

So it was very sweet of God to bring me back to just the paragraph that held that fragment of a verse.

I want to believe that God is continually doing a new thing in my life & soul. In some ways, it's been a long three years since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and there are still things that I need to surrender back to God and trust Him with & leave it there. I hope and choose to trust that this morning is a baby step back in that direction!!!

Also, thanks to all the men who shared in our church service on Sunday at Community Bible Chapel - Paraclete definitely used each of you in working on my heart!!

"Look What You've Done"

In my car, the radio is pretty much always on to 94.9 KLTY, a local Christian station. It feels like in different seasons there's a song that plays every time I get in the car, even if it's just my 10-minute commute to work.

Recently, it's been this song:

Initially, I honestly resented this song a bit. The past three years have been challenging for me spiritually, not something I've usually been willing to rejoice & praise God in. And now, with my upcoming (Lord willing) visit to Uganda, all that heart crud that can usually hide beneath the surface is getting stirred up.

But on my way home from ministry group (church small group) this evening, as I got close to my parents' house where I needed to pick up a couple things, this song played again. And this time, Paraclete showered down grace---and I received the song with a heart of hope. As I listened to this song, I found myself hoping and praying. I found myself begging God, "Please let me see that song be true in my life next month!"

But then I wondered why I felt like I needed to beg God for that and plead with Him to make it come to pass. Isn't that exactly what He desires to do, to heal, to redeem?

And so by grace & in faith I intentionally shifted my prayer---"Lord, give me the humility to receive Your healing!" And I knew I needed to dust this blog off and report on what God is doing, the seed He is planting in my heart of positive change.

It's like the chives & hibiscus plant in my garden here at my new place. Last weekend when I went to plant the small hibiscus shrub I had bought several week before, I first cleared the area of weeds, mostly chives that had been allowed to run wild. Or at least I thought I cleared it!! 

When I started digging the hole "as deep as and slightly larger than the pot," guess what I found right beneath the surface? A matted, entangled, enmeshed network of chives roots & bulbs. I threw away the top three inches of soil, because I knew I didn't want those roots back in the hole with my poor hibiscus plant!!

The lies I believed They got some roots that run deep I let em take a hold of my life I let em take control of my life

The same is true with secreted resentment and bitterness. They're like the chive roots that have already sprung back up all around my hibiscus plant, that parts where I didn't dig those three inches deep to dig them out.

But God.

Standing in Your presence Lord I can feel You diggin' all the roots up I can feel Ya healin' all my wounds up All I can say is hallelujah Look what You've done

It's my hope and prayer that in the next month, as I spend two weeks with my dearly loved Ugandan sisters (towards whom I hold no hard feelings) and the others (some of whom I have struggled to forgive), that God will do just this.

Will the process be fun?
Probably not always.

Will it be worth it?
I believe so, definitely.

Please join me in praying the truths of this song over me in the coming four weeks!!!

The Joy of the Lord is Your Strength

 I was up at 3 a.m. this morning, making herbal "Sleep Tea" that I had bought from a friend-of-a-friend, after waking up at 2 and having a fruitless hour of trying to fall back asleep.

I grabbed this mug because of its large size, but seeing what it said reminded me of a post I've been meaning to write!

Back on Jan. 19th, I was responsible for leading the daily prayer time at my workplace. I had contacted some of our workers for prayer requests, but only received two responses - not enough to keep us occupied for half an hour.

Then I looked at my Verse-a-day calendar on my desk, and it had the verse above -- and so I went with a bit of a longer devotional before the prayer time.

So, Nehemiah 8:10 - we all know it, even if we don't know the reference. "The Joy of the Lord is your strength." A positive, encouraging verse, right? Yes, but even more so if you know the context!

Anyone out there know the context of this verse?

Anyone?

{There was silence when I asked this question in the devotional time.}

So I took us back to the context, something I had noticed a few years ago (probably when I was reading through Nehemiah!) and that has stuck with me every time I've seen or heard that verse since.

After Nehemiah and company had rebuilt the wall of Jerusalem, there came a day when Ezra read the law to the people from morning until midday, with other priests there to explain the meaning (Neh. 8:1-7).

Nehemiah continues: 

 

"They read from the book, from the Law of God, clearly, and they gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading. And Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites who taught the people said to all the people, 'This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep.' For all the people wept as they heard the words of the Law" (8:8-9).

 

I don't know about for you, but this doesn't seem to me like the context for a go-to voice on Joy!

But that's not all - look at the majority of verse 10, the part that never gets quoted: 

 

"Then he said to them, 'Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength'" (Neh. 8:10).

Nehemiah and Ezra shared this line with a people who were grieving over the ways they had fallen short of what the law required!!

As New Covenant believers, we are no longer under the same set of laws and demands that the Israelites were. But what can we learn from their example?

I think too often we use this verse as a band aid or a somewhat trite expression to try and encourage someone. But what if, to really help our friends, we urged them to acknowledge and confess the ways they have fallen short, and then to find new strength in the joy of God’s forgiveness? What if we made confession like the Israelite's a regular practice among ourselves?

Then I walked through the definitions of 'confession,' from good ol' dictionary.com:

noun​

1. acknowledgment; avowal; admission: a confession of incompetence.​
2. acknowledgment or disclosure of sin or sinfulness, especially to a priest to obtain absolution.​
3. something that is confessed.​
4. a formal, usually written, acknowledgment of guilt by a person accused of a crime.​
5. Also called confession of faith: a formal profession of belief and acceptance of doctrines, as before being admitted to church membership.​

As a Protestant, I don't believe that confession to a priest is necessary to obtain absolution. And, I had forgotten about the positive sense of confession, indicated in the 5th point.

I then read the following prayer of confession from a church in Indiana, a combination of two separate ones the pastor had shared on the church's blog:

 

"Holy and merciful God, in your presence we confess our sinfulness, our shortcomings, and our offenses against you. You alone know how often we have sinned in wandering from your ways, in wasting your gifts, in forgetting your love. Have mercy on us, O Lord, for we are ashamed and sorry for all we have done to displease you. Cleanse us from all our offenses, and deliver us from proud thoughts and vain desires. With lowliness and meekness may we draw near to you, confessing our faults, confiding in your grace, and finding in you our refuge and strength; through Jesus Christ your Son. Amen."

And then I just opened up the floor for a couple people to pray their own personal prayers of confession, and then we launched into praying for a couple of our workers.

So, thanks for reading!! This is something that has been meaningful to me--as I said, for a couple years--and having thought through it a little more concretely recently, I wanted to share it on here!

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!!

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.

Trusting God, Once Again

On Friday afternoon, I received two pieces of news: one that I had assumed for months was coming eventually and one that caught me totally off guard. The latter was the conclusion of several weeks of my choices in interactions with others. I should probably have been expecting things to come to the point that they did. But I was being optimistic and so wasn’t considering the potential “worst” outcome. The news left me hurting and a bit shaken.

This week in Institute class has been all about “Veritas,” a Bible study method. As I moved about our office block, trying to let the news sink in and trying to adjust to the new reality thrust upon me, a verse we had been looking at just before lunch came back to mind: “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace” (Col. 3:15).

“All right, God,” I prayed, “This situation is what You have allowed to happen. And You have called me to peace. Please teach my heart to trust You and rest in peace today, right now.” And He did! I went about finishing my day in the office, and on my way home talked to my mentor a bit about it all, since she’d been walking with me through the situation the past month.

Last night, some of the young people put on a concert. In the greeting and fellowshipping afterward, God allowed me to have a special interaction with a friend. It gave me a glimpse of good things He is doing through the situation, even though part of the outcome is not what I would have chosen.

As I continued thinking about it back at my house, I was reminded that peace is not “everything going my way” – and trust is likewise not “God doing things my way.” Peace and trust are both choosing to rest in God’s goodness, knowing that He loves everyone involved so much more than I do! And that He is working out His plan, even when to my human view it seems like things are falling apart rather than being renewed. As my mentor reminded me, “sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better.” And God is the one directing that process in light of His sovereignty and omniscience! That is where hope and peace and trust find their truest, deepest roots.

This morning, I woke up earlier than I intended to—so even after spending a chunk of time directly in God’s Word it was too early to get ready and go to church. I thought about writing this post, but was feeling a bit under the weather so didn’t want to yet. I ended up deciding to pull out my Kindle version of a women’s devotional, because I remembered I had one more chapter I hadn’t read yet.

Guess what it was about??? Yep, trusting God. I took one look at the title (“Does God Deserve Our Trust?”) and almost laughed. Several things in the chapter—discussing trying to put God in a box, and God as the Potter from Romans 9, for example—have been on my mind already the past year-plus. So many good quotes I could put in here from this chapter! But here’s just a couple:

“The reality is that we often don’t want to trust God until we’ve tried to fix the problem ourselves first….We really don’t give God a second thought until something big comes up” (pg. 153).

“I believe that sometimes we are a little cautious about trusting God because we’re afraid of what He may bring into our lives in order to teach us something or to test us” (pg. 155).

“Does trusting God mean that everything will work out just the way we want it to and that we’ll live happily ever after? No, it doesn’t. That’s a God-box…..Whether you trust God with your life does not change the fact that you still really have no control over your circumstances” (pg. 158).

The authors (Beverly LaHaye and her daughter Lori Scheck) went on to talk about how we must have both a proper view of ourselves and a proper view of God if we are to grow in our trust for Him. It was all such a good reminder, especially in light of everything this weekend! Praise the Lord for His leading and timing :)

So there are no easy answers. I still wish, and I am still tempted to hope, that things turn out differently in the situation that instigated this whole post. But God is using these circumstances that are mostly out of my control to remind me of what trust really means: Resting in His plan, not because it is the same as mine but because He is good.

To God be the glory.

______

The quotes come from the last chapter of A Woman and Her God, edited by Beth Moore.

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}

Slowly by Slowly

{I’m taking a wee break from the informal “series” I’ve been working my way through here, because this came to mind. And as I posted on Facebook this evening, I’m seeking to live in the moment, rooted in God.}

I’m a slow learner.

It might be that sometimes I’m good at hiding it, because I always try to look like I have everything together. But that doesn’t change the facts.

I’m still a slow learner.

Especially when it comes to the most critical lessons of all: those in the spiritual realm—relating to God, and those in the community realm—relating to others.

I so easily forget so many things.

Like conveying messages for people. Like the fact that my roommate wouldn’t be here tonight. Things slip through cracks in my mind so very easily, usually because I’m focused and consumed with myself and my own issues.

Lessons that I “ought” to have learned must be repeated over and over, because I have failed to learn them with my heart.

My head knows the truth—I like being able to have all the doctrinal boxes checked: God is good. God is in charge. My life is in His hands. I’m trusting Him. My satisfaction is found in Him alone. He’s doing all things for His glory. He’s the one who controls my life. He’s on the throne of the Universe.

Still, somehow, there’s a communication breakdown. Not with my mouth (or in many cases, my fingers—writing or typing). I can say all the right words.

But how often does my heart believe it? How often do my actions show it? As I look back on the past months and years, even as I review my journal from last fall….I must admit not as often as I would like.

Sometimes I get so caught up in analyzing what I’m thinking, feeling, doing…I get so busy trying to process the things I’ve been through, that I forget to love people. I forget to live as Christ’s ambassador…because I’m examining myself under a microscope.

How does one trust God in daily life? How does one reflect His image to others?

Honestly, I feel like I don’t know how to do that very well.

But I want to learn. And I hope I am, bit by bit (or as they say here, "slowly by slowly").

Sometimes (oftentimes), it gets to a point where I’m too full. Where I can’t read another chapter, where I can’t digest another article from someone’s blog. But I’m bad at actively seeking and finding outlets for what I’m taking in. I try to process it through writing, and end up questioning what good that does.

As an introvert, I physically don’t feel like it’s possible for me to be around people all the time. But people are what matter most after God, right? How am I to live a life of total service and love? Obviously, I can’t in my own strength.

Today I was catching up on a friend’s blog. I was working on a major processing project. I’m in the middle of a blog “series” that I want to write the next one of. I’ve got a couple work assignments I could work on. So many directions I could go, so many ways I could spend my time.

But instead, I went and lay out under the stars for a while. I sought to take a breath, to be still before my Creator. And I took comfort that Christ, my model – even He had to take times when He got away from ministering to the people around Him, times of prayer and spiritual nourishment alone with His Father.

Most certainly, I am not saying that I have been serving like my Master served. Not nearly. I often think much about reaching out to people and touching their lives in a way that will have eternal value. But usually I end up in my hut, sometimes trying to satisfy my own selfish desires…sometimes in activities with a nobler goal but still with a me-centered practical result.

So this post doesn’t pretend to have the answers.

It’s just me being real…recognizing an issue.

But I don’t want it to stop there. It so often does with me. Last fall, I recognized a path my thoughts and feelings were leading me down. And my actions continued taking me down that same path. And that had consequences.

I have 17 full days left here at Kasana. I don’t want to waste those days. Abba Father, show me how to invest the time You have given me here. Help me listen to Your conviction & promptings. Teach me to trust.

I am simply a shooting star in the sky of God’s plan. A momentary blip. But I am a person over whom God has made claim. I have been bought with a price—my life is not my own. I want to spend it in His service. For the sake of His great name.

Bearing One Another’s Burdens

{written 4/20}

The other morning I was thinking/processing through all this and journaling about it. And a couple verses came to mind, which is where this post comes from. I was specifically thinking about what an amazing example my roommate had been of the verse about “bearing one another’s burdens”….but also about how I had taken advantage of that, and not been helping her bear her burden.

I looked up the verse, and was kind of surprised by what I found. It’s Galatians 6:2, but only the first half is the familiar line tossed about in the Christian community. The full verse reads “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (NKJV). In my head, I’ve always thought of this verse as a way to help friends feel better about themselves, to help them carry their cares and sorrows.

But that’s not what the context says! The previous verse refers to a person “overtaken in trespass” who should be restored “in a spirit of gentleness,” and the following verses continue that theme of looking at one’s choices and actions.

The previous chapter also references this: “Stand fast therefore in the liberty by which Christ has made us free, and do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage” (5:1, emphasis mine). So the burdens Paul is referring to are not “merely” the burdens of daily sorrows and difficulties. Paul’s teaching here goes much deeper. Just this morning in church, one of the pastors was teaching about how the deepest darkest prison is the prison of SIN. And THAT is the yoke Paul was addressing!

My next post or two will be looking more at that…but I wanted to mention it here for the sake of context.

The idea of “bearing one another’s burdens” takes on a whole different light for me once I see the verse within the setting that Paul originally wrote it in! He is not simply calling us to sympathize with one another. No, instead he is instructing his readers to call one another out on habitual sins, to help one another live in the liberty of Christ! He’s talking about a process of discipleship and sanctification, not just someone to listen to the woes of your day.

I am so thankful for the people who God has placed in my life who He has also equipped to do both. I have been blessed with several good listeners who then also turn around and speak truth into me. Because very often I am venting to people when my perspective is off. When I’m not wanting to submit to God’s will, or when I’m just “stuck” in a certain view of a situation. And in all of the above, I often need to hear someone else tell me what I know with my head but what I’m not feeling in my heart.

But, as I wrote in my previous post, I must be careful that I do not look solely or even primarily to those people. And Paul addresses this too: “For if anyone thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself” (Gal. 6:3). I’m not entirely positive if by this verse Paul is referring to the person in sin, or to the person trying to help him (vs. 1). I’m guessing it applies either way.

The person in sin would obviously be deceiving himself if he tried to proudly act like he didn’t need help and had it all together. But the person trying to help and disciple would also be deceiving himself if he tried to do so out of his own strength. And that’s the direction this verse took me in my musings the other day.

As I thought about the people who had helped me to bear my burdens, I knew they weren’t relying on themselves to do that. They weren’t listening to my burdened heart and then taking and carrying those heavy loads themselves. Instead, they were relying on God’s strength and truth. They were helping me to carry my burdens to Him.

So yes, we are to “bear one another’s burdens.” But that does not mean taking everything from everyone else onto ourselves and then continuing to carry it around with us. We are called to be free!

Building Confidence

I’ve been writing and rewriting this post in my head for several months. And somehow, tonight just feels right to actually write it. So here goes {deep breath}. But first, let me introduce you to two girls.

Eleanor was not a typical teenager. Sure, she had dreams and ambitions like any young person…but she had also been through a set of experiences which made her unique. Everyone has, but Eleanor’s life made her think that was more so the case in her instance than in the general populations. After all, how many “normal” 13-year-olds can lay claim to the adventure of living in a different country for 6+ months??

Of course, not all the experiences which shaped Eleanor’s personality were positive. She was a very reserved/withdrawn person. She was not inclined to go hang out with friends. She frankly hated the phone (I don’t know why). The friends she did have were all, like her, super focused on and rather overwhelmed by school. Eleanor was a pretty private person. She didn’t share herself—especially her weaknesses/failures—easily with anyone. Not anyone. If she knew I was sharing this, it would make her very uncomfortable.

On the other hand is Ellie. She just graduated from college. She’s also not a “regular” American 20-something. The ideas of either clothes shopping for fun or spending long periods of time getting hair and makeup perfect are—quite frankly—very confusing to her. Ellie is an introvert, and once in a while if she feels too lost in a big group of people she can just go into shut down mode. She’s a perfectionist, and expects a lot of herself—she wants to do things well. In some ways, Ellie is pretty similar to Eleanor.

But at the same time, they are dis-similar. Ellie needs her alone time, but she also needs time with her friends. And that can be either on Skype, texting, or in a phone conversation! In college (especially the last two years), Ellie frequently made the choice to toss her homework aside for “later” while she spent time with friends. That’s something Eleanor couldn’t conceive of. Ellie also values other people’s input, and she is more willing to share about what she struggles with. She often finds herself questioning what other people think of her—but she has close friends who she trusts completely and with whom she finds it easy to be open.

So here we have these two different people. But if you know me very well, you probably picked up on the fact that these are not actually two separate girls. It’s just me, though at two very different times of my life. It’s amazing what a difference 5+ years can make. And believe me, it’s been quite the process. And not always a fun one, that’s for sure. But as I look back, I am thankful for where God has brought me and how He has grown me.

I’ve noticed just in the past 6ish months that I have become a lot more confident—I think in a good way. Last summer, when I interned in DC, my supervisor’s main negative critique on a feedback form was that I was hesitant to step up and introduce myself to people. Now, I certainly don’t claim to have reached perfection on that. As I said above, I’m still an introvert. But I am currently on my second work trip where I go to a location and have the job of interviewing people most of whom I have never met before. (True, I was freaking out/worried about it before Joplin…but that trip went amazingly well and gave me a big confidence boost!) Not to mention that when I came to this job, I knew basically no one. Are there still moments when I am not as outgoing as I sometimes wish I were? Oh yeah, for sure. Ellie is still a perfectionist with high self-expectations! And it’s still an area where I can grow.

But that’s not the only type of confidence I’ve grown in. I’ve also learned to be more self-confident, especially in the area of opening up to the people I trust and sharing my bad times in addition to the good times. And I’ve learned the immense value of friends who will take time to meet you where you’re at and join you on the journey, wherever life has you at the moment. I didn’t have that before I came to college. It wasn’t the fault of the friends I had, it was much more my fault. I didn’t really let any of my friendships in high school get past a pretty shallow “safe zone,” because I didn’t trust people—not anyone specifically, I just didn’t trust anybody in general.

Including God. Which is still hard for me to admit. I only just realized that component of it in January, when the professor for my “Capstone Seminar in Christian Life” class asked us to write “Here I Am” papers discussing our spiritual biographies. Well…I had started to be aware of it a couple months prior when one day, reading through Psalm 139 I realized that I couldn’t say verses 14 and 16 with belief and conviction. Then in January I realized when the breakdown had begun. There was still a lot of hurt and pain I was holding onto—and still am sometimes—a truth I only started realizing fully in April. One day that month, tears flowed as I finally came to grips with and grieved the emotional/spiritual damage done nearly 10 years before to my young self.

To explain the source of that would take too long here…and it would require telling a tale that is 90% not mine to tell. Suffice it to say that although it was not my personal actions or choices which caused the vast majority of what happened, it 100% had an effect on shaping who I am. It deeply impacted me, my family, and other people. And it was hard. And it was painful. And I still feel the resulting wounds. No, I was not a helpless victim in the process. I chose how I responded and acted, and even though I was only 13 at the time and didn’t understand what was happening or how it was affecting me, I am still responsible for the choices I made. {Just to clarify, I was never directly targeted or physically harmed in any way. This was not a physical incident at all, it was “only” relational. And I was a fairly uninvolved bystander who was nevertheless heavily affected by the fallout.}

I now believe that it was my disappointment that God didn’t “fix” everything and put it back to the way that it had been which led to my spiritual “dark age” of 2003 and beyond. And I believe it was my resulting trickle-down distrust of people—in addition to personality tendencies such as perfection—that led to me building a fortress stronghold all around my heart. If I didn’t let anybody in, I couldn’t get hurt, right? If I guarded my emotions and didn’t tell anyone what I struggled with, I would be safer, wouldn’t I? Looking back, I think that’s what my unconscious thought process was.

This obviously affected my whole life—all of my relationships. God, parents, friends—I tried to keep all at a safe distance, tried to make sure that I always only put my best foot forward. It was emotionally and spiritually exhausting, and I felt so very lonely. But for such a long time, I didn’t realize where the breakdown had occurred. Oh, I knew there was a problem. I just didn’t know how to fix it. And my way (trying harder) was NOT working.

But God didn’t leave me there. Finally, on Jan. 25, 2011 His message of GRACE broke through loud and clear. It has still often seemed like a long/tedious/difficult/painful process since then…but once God got my vertical relationship onto the foundation that it should be on, my horizontal relationships also started shifting.

August 28, 2009 was my second day of classes at John Brown University as a pretty clueless freshman. It was also my first regular chapel, the first of many many in my undergraduate career! But I will always remember that chapel. President Pollard spoke, as he always does on the first chapel of the semester. He shared from John 9, about the miracle where Jesus spit, made mud to put on a blind guy’s eyes, and told him to go wash in the pool of Siloam. The name of the town that came to be a second home over the next four years is Siloam Springs, after that pool.

At that early date, I was still clueless about how much healing God was going to do in my life. In fact, I didn’t realize how much healing I needed. Looking back at John 9 tonight, I noticed something I hadn’t connected before. In verse 7, John tells us that “Siloam” meant “sent.” I don’t know that I’ve really blogged about it before…but I was definitely sent to JBU—even though I didn’t recognize it as that at the time. I honestly went to the school because a friend at church “just happened” to suggest I look into it, and it’s where I ended up receiving the best financial aid package from, plus having the major I wanted to pursue. I only applied to three schools – so it’s not like I really looked into that many options. But I firmly believe God sent me to exactly the right place!

During my last semester this past spring, as this realization was growing in my mind, I noticed a sign that perfectly summed up why JBU is now such an important part of my life. A couple days after graduation, a good friend of mine from church took me out to Fayetteville for breakfast. As we came back into town, I asked if we could stop to take a picture by the sign. She was kind enough to oblige J

So that’s my story. But it’s really not my story. It’s a story of what GOD has done in my life, through the work of a whole variety of influences. And I can now say that I am thankful for all of it—the parts which were good and beautiful, and even those parts that I don’t understand and which were/still are painful to remember.

God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. And He is ALWAYS faithful to do His work!

Lessons from a Church Blackout

This morning at about 8:30 as I was getting ready for church, I heard a loud boom and all the electricity at my house cut off. We guessed a transformer had blown. I couldn't help but wonder what it would mean for the services at my church, which is right across the street from my house.

A few minutes later I walked over to find, as I had expected, a mostly dark church. Random lights were on in some areas, but the air conditioning was off in the whole building as were all the auditorium's lights and speaker systems. We still had the worship service (which at my church is an open-service style) and, I think, most of the Sunday school classes...but the nurseries were dark, hot, and empty; the warmer balcony was almost deserted; and the teaching hour was cancelled.

Even before the service started I couldn't help but think about some ironic/eye-opening reminders. During the 75 minute service, more things kept popping up in my mind. So here they are - lessons from a dark church.

1. We're Spoilt. Yep, that's right. We Americans are spoiled little brats accustomed to a particular level of comfort. Honestly, even before I knew about the lack of power I had considered not staying for the teaching hour because I didn't feel the best today. I took a pain reliever because my scraped hand from yesterday has been giving me grief.

Is it fun to sit in a huge room with no air conditioning and a bunch of other people in the middle of a Texas summer? No, but think about churches in other countries. Places like India, where they probably get just as hot and never have the AC luxuries we do, but where they still gather week after week because they want to.

2. "Singing and Making Melody" (Eph. 5:19). Without the PA system or the computers to run the slides, our opening singing time was a bit more challenging. But honestly, I liked it better. Without the speakers increasing the volume of the instruments, I could hear the actual singing. While I appreciate the work the musicians put into playing, it was fun to actually experience singing together as a church body....although I must admit our church definitely shouldn't make a recording...some of us can't sing exceptionally well ;-)

3. "Let the Little Children Come." This one ties into the last one. With the little kids not being in the nursery, they were in the service instead. And I loved hearing one little girl (probably age 3 or 4) belting out the choruses on the songs. I sure didn't mind the couple times a baby cried either. But that may just be because I love kids :)

4. Be Real With Me. It was an interesting phenomenon...but with no PA system, no AC, and no lights other than sunlight coming in windows and doors, the whole atmosphere of the service seemed more relaxed, less "put-on," and more real. Several men took off their suit coats. The sharing seemed more off-the-cuff. We laughed more. It just felt nice. Usually, men walk down to the lecterns because that's where the mics are. The rest of us sit in our pews, separated by the distance, however small, and hearing the voice over the speakers. There's almost a disconnect between the person talking and the congregation---something I didn't realize was there until I recognized that it was gone today.

5. Jesus as the Light of the World. In God's timing, the opener had previously planned to share from 2 Cor. 4:4-6, which talks about how the gospel is a light to us in a world of darkness. One of the songs we sang was "Shine, Jesus Shine," a song which I have really appreciated since I first heard it on a friend's favorite CD eight or nine years ago. As we were singing the song and as various men got up and shared about different ways Christ is our light, I couldn't help but think about it. He is the Light, the fuel, to banish the darkness of the world. We are to be like lamps or like mirrors, carrying or reflecting the power of His gospel.

So there you have it - a few things you can learn at church, even without power. Honestly, I think every church should have a blackout Sunday once in a while. It has the capability of serving as a good reminder of our blessings and breaking us out of the routine-ness that is always a danger in our spiritual lives.