Excuses

Now, I know I have seriously neglected my writing lately, but I just realized that I have only posted one blog in the last three months. To be fair, I started a new job and spent a good deal of that time writing a couple of devotionals for a book. But then, there is always an excuse, isn’t there?

Whenever I take on a serious commitment, such as a new job, the passions of my life inevitably take a back seat. My family and friends, my writing and music, and most importantly, my relationship with Jesus. Despite all of my “good reasons” to save those things for another day, I know that some sacrifices are inexcusable.

There will always be something to steal my time and attention. There will always be a reason why I cannot devote myself to the people and things that I love. There will always be an excuse for allowing laziness to take hold of my life.

Therein lies the challenge; determining to make those things a priority in my life. To fight for the time and pray for the focus I need, regardless of the challenges that come up to block my way. I can fill my time with just about any project and, with plenty of logic, anything can be made important enough to supersede the essentials.

But where will that leave me in the end?

Dry and empty, wondering where the years have gone, where my life went. I don’t want to waste my life. I don’t want to lose the precious moments I have to do what I want to do. I don’t want to miss the opportunities I get to say what I want to say. What He wants me to do. What He wants me to say.

I have missed going the extra mile for time with my loved ones. I have missed writing. I have missed my music. I have missed my Jesus.

Spring Break has been a breath of fresh air for me. A merciful gasp, really, to take with me before another deep plunge back into the waters of the work world. Not to say that my job is a dreaded foe. I love my job! The challenge for me is the temptation to throw myself too much into my work. Over the break, I’ve had the chance to seek and savor Him more than I have in a long time, to see Him in a deeper way. And it has been…many things. Precious. Sobering. Romantic.

I know I will be slammed with challenges, literally, the moment I go back to work. Will I fall back into the way it was before? I’m sure I will stumble quite a bit, but I’m ready to make the time for the things that are important to me. I’m ready for faithful dedication to my loved ones, disciplined progress to my God-given dreams, and ardent devotion to my Lover and King. I’m ready.

And after all that we've been through,
And after all we left in pieces,
I still believe our lives have just begun.
‘Cause now the past can be outrun,
And I know You are the reason.
I still believe the best is yet to come.

-Best is Yet to Come by Red

Happy and Heartbroken

How is it possible to be so happy and heartbroken at the same time? How is it possible to cry with joy and thankfulness while wanting to cry over pain and difficult questions simultaneously? I don’t know how, but I feel the pull of both at once. There are so many blessings showering into my life right now, but there are so many other things going on around me that render me grieving.

An overwhelming amount of changes that I am afraid of are occurring, yet there are so many changes I am excited about. (I have always struggled over worrying about the future, probably something I will struggle with until the day I die.) This may sound oxymoronic but, although I am not traditional, I love traditions. I do things out of the ordinary, but I prefer consistency in some ways. I want something to rely on, something special to see and savor. I know that Christ is the only thing I can rely on, but I still have such a hard time dealing with change.

I miss the way my family used to go about the holidays. Those traditions have changed since my grandpas have both passed away and relatives my age are mostly married, starting their own families and even moving away. I miss the relationships I used to have with my friends. Those relationships are different now. Since graduation last spring, we have all spread out and we can’t just stop by and see each other the way we used to. Other friends are in relationships, engaged, married, having kids, moving, becoming different people. Overall, there is growing apart taking place.

In addition to the general change of life, there is the suffering of others around me that is burdening my heart. Family and friends struggling with or losing their jobs, husbands going to the hospital for heart problems, an adoption being reversed on a couple who fell in love with a child. I am definitely a fixer. I want to do something to make things the way I think they should be. To serve justice, according to me. But I am not the authority and I am not the Holy One who can make a perfect judgment. It is not within my control to fix everything for everyone. That is a humbling thought and certainly a difficult desire to harness.

Finally, there is the spiritual struggle of others around me. People I know who are so lost, empty and without hope. All I can do is point them to the One who comforts and fills me, knowing that, aside from prayer and offering my shoulder to cry on, there is really nothing I can personally do for them. (Again, with the fixing…) Children who have never heard of Jesus or, if they have, they think that He is dead, not knowing that He is their God, their Creator, their Father. That He is alive and He loves them. That He is with them and they don’t need to be afraid of falling asleep alone or dying. Trying to share that hope, but met with the inability to understand and discouraged by the continuation of that spiritual void.

And yet, despite all this, I am so excited about life and the opportunities that the Lord is opening up for me. Not so I can find success, wealth and comfort, but so I can be a blessing in the lives of others, bring Him glory in all that I do and allow Him to accomplish His will for my life. I am so happy about the refining and healing process He is putting me through, even though it is painful, so I can be who He wants me to be. I am so thankful for the answered prayers and the people He is putting into my life, right when I need them, so that I can see how He cares and provides for me, always.

Nothing is certain now, as far as the opportunities go, but He is leading me down a path that I know has been secured and blessed by Him. The refining and healing will surely be accomplished as I daily surrender myself and allow Him to shape and mold me like clay. And I must have faithfulness, relying on Him alone to supply all of my needs.

I rejoice in how amazing and merciful my God is for every moment that He loves me, for all of His unearned blessings and for never giving up on me. And I choose to trust Him with all of the things that are grieving my spirit because He is the Lord over all that burdens a human heart.

Progressively Set-Apart

            I am so excited about the future. My expectations have gone through some periods of serious morphing, especially throughout my college experience, and now I see how selfish all of those expectations were. I wanted my college experience to unfold this way, for my love story with a guy to unfold that way, and my career path to go just so, all the while praising Jesus for doing things my way.  I wanted a mechanical and somewhat predictable life. I wanted to be “just like everybody else.” I wanted to be understood and happy. To prove wrong all those who had ever challenged me and shame those who had ever rejected me. I just knew I had a "right" to all these things. A right to myself.

            I didn’t see then that there is a life possible for me that is so much more than what I ever imagined for myself. Not because it contains the world’s version, or even my own version, of success. Not because I would experience the most romantic love story with a guy that I could ever fathom. Not because I would attain riches, beauty, or recognition. It is because it contains a love beyond anything this world can hold for me. One of forgiveness and renewal, where all my hurts become unimportant in comparison to the affirming acceptance I find and all my vices become completely alterable by the steady hand I have to hold.

            I find I do not need to worry about the future, since I have no control over how it will unfold anyway, because God, my Love, holds my future in His hands, writing it Himself and guiding me with an even better purpose than I could create for myself. How can I, a tiny being limited in my own understanding of existence, ever orchestrate my own course and purpose when He is the One that sees, knows and understands all? He is the One who created me! Of course He is going to know the specific purpose I was created for and enable me to fulfill it.

            I just finished reading Authentic Beauty by Leslie Ludy. Absolutely fantastic. One point that she makes, in paraphrasing a quote by Oswald Chambers, is that by realizing the reality of Christ, our one true Love and Purpose, “we are never bothered again by the fact that we do not understand ourselves, or that other people do not understand us. The only One who truly understands me is the One who made me and redeems me…” I have always been so concerned about finding someone to completely understand me, but I had never thought of it quite that way before…that it shouldn’t bother me that there is not one human on this planet who can understand every aspect of me, even myself. He understands me far better than even I do.

            When I think about it, there are some friends I can go to who can understand certain parts of me but cannot relate with other parts. Then there are some friends who can relate with those parts, but do not understand what my other friends do about me. There are always those gaps. Even between family members. But that’s okay. We were not designed to understand every single aspect of everybody else because then we would find that fulfillment in someone other than God.

            I know that the only person who would ever come close to fully understanding me would be my future husband, who I call Pete. That is, if I am meant for marriage. But you know what? I’m not worried about it, because the purpose that drives my life is beyond the necessity of being married. If I get married, then it will be fantastic because it is the direction in which God has directed my life in order to better fulfill His purposes. If not, then I can be just as satisfied because that means being unmarried is more advantageous in enabling me to fulfill the ultimate purpose of my life.

            I find the more I give my life and my future over to the Lord, I am not so hung up on things going a certain way. By default, not by discouragement, I imagine my future as a single person and I am thrilled by the ideas I entertain of serving the Lord, growing closer with Him in the most intimate ways, being satisfied in Him and His understanding of me alone, and allowing Him to use me as His instrument to show Himself to others. I am excited over Him continually improving me, the possibilities and knowing that, whatever happens, it will be good and I will love it.

            If I do have a Pete, only when he is revealed to me will I have a reason to imagine, with any solidity, my life any other way. And that is fine by me. I would rather be single, with my heart and inner sanctuary for Him kept intact the way He intended, than to settle and rush into a marriage that I would regret because of discontented impatience and insecurity. If that were to be the case, then let me be single all the days of my life. I will not settle and I will not worry about my future. There is too much to be ecstatic about today.

The Plight of Worry

            There is a season for everything in life. Some seasons are experienced more thoroughly or at more frequent intervals than others. I am facing a familiar sort of season in my life right now - one of change, to be very general - but am experiencing it in an entirely new setting.

            I know that it is pointless to dwell on and worry about the future because it does not “add a single hour to [my] life.” (Matthew 6:27) This has been a constant struggle of mine throughout my life, which I have become better about recently; I have accepted my present circumstances for the way they are and I am no longer agonizing over the many unknowns. In fact, I am rather excited about the prospective future by leisurely imagining its possibilities, as opposed to fretting over exactly what in the world will happen.

            In college, I honestly had no clue whatsoever as to what I would do or where I would go after graduation. During the first half of school, I didn’t worry so much, reasoning that I had plenty of time to figure it out and convinced it would “just come to me.” Junior year, as is typical for juniors, I panicked. Yes, I was one of the many who fell prey to the oh-so-common Junior Panic.

            Halfway through the year, I found a passion for a certain fallback plan. Over the next year, I acquired a new passion, which surpassed the first, and my plan changed. By the time I graduated, the plan attached to that second passion, which was to teach English overseas, simmered away as I rediscovered that teaching is not my gift at all.

            So there I was…a recent college graduate, my safety net and solid plans dissolved just as soon as I had managed to get out. No amount of planning or worrying about the future had done me any good. I was back at square one. I have found that you can plan your entire life and arrange your whole world, but that does not set your plans into motion. Anything can come up, rendering such things in life beyond your control.

            This brings me to my current season. After plenty of worrying over the summer, I came to find myself in a place I never could have planned. Astoundingly, the Lord brought me everything I needed at exactly the right time and not a moment sooner. Experiences. Opportunities. Relationships. Finances. Passions. Ideas.

            I am not yet settled and secure in the direction of my life. There are quite a few things that I am still experiencing, things I must learn before I may be solid in the sense of career and living situation. I find myself in a very sizable in-between stage right now, where nothing is sure, only infinitely possible. Nothing is predictable, only insecurely probable. There is no point in predicting anything, as there is usually something greater that comes along, seemingly out of nowhere, altering the entire situation and its previously assumed outcome.

            I am no longer a part of the life I once knew, a life that was all I knew, and I am at a loss at the life I will have, even one year from now. It is a life in which nothing is secure, in which I have nothing to cling to for assurance but my Jesus. I feel the thin wire that my life lives upon right now. Its fragility. Its vulnerability. If He so wills, it could all fall apart and be gone, but He is the One holding it all together. Again, I see how I cannot be the one to hold up my life. I have no control. I have no power.

            This period He has me in, I feel, is engineered specifically for the deepening of my reliance on Him and becoming exactly who He wants me to be. My focus has been narrowed to a handful of things that need a lot of attention, effort, and cherishing. I am planting now for the harvest so that I may be ready in those few, but important, areas when the time comes to move on from my present season.

            As I am focusing on a specific few of important things right now, there are other certain elements of my life that have necessarily been put off to be saved for later. Things I miss to the point of inner struggle and things I thought I was ready to experience that I am really not ready for at all. Sometimes I feel like such a mess, so far from being prepared, that I wonder if I will ever be ready enough to experience some of those things. But that is another thing I am learning…not to worry, but to trust that I will be ready for whatever I am being prepared for, all in perfect timing and not a moment sooner. And it will be beautiful.

I Am...

It is difficult to imagine correctly how one’s life will go when there are so many unknown variables that are sure to come into the mix. My process of becoming who I am has not given me the experiences I always imagined, but I am who I am without apologizing for it and I am thankful for what I have. There have been struggles and obstacles that I did not account for as well as joys and blessings that I did not expect. Back then, I did not quite know who I am, but now I do.

I am against the grain. I am not what most people perceive me to be. Many people think too soon that they have me figured out or they give up when they think it’s taking too long and I think they miss out by walking away. I am rougher around the edges than most others see. I am not bragging when I say that I am very complicated. Only the ones who really invest, dig and persevere in getting to know me can truly understand me. Not a lot of people have enough patience for this though.

I am not the sweet social butterfly, admired by all. I am not an instant best-friend-maker. I only have energy for a few, deep friendships. Any shallow relationships wear me out. I am attracted to the outcast and the loner. Not a lot of people would guess that I relate better with them because I often feel the same. Shallow, girly chit-chat makes me gag and want to say something to pop their bubble. I do this a lot, even though I know that I probably shouldn’t. I have no respect for girls who have to pathetically flirt with guys in order to be their friends and I have absolutely no respect for the guys who encourage them by giving them all their attention. However, on a friendship scale, I relate with guys much better than I do with girls.

I am not the girl that beats off amazing guys with a stick. I am usually “the friend.” I am primarily attracted to jerks because I always feel a pathetic need to save them. I have always been told that I am marriage-material, not dating-material. I have a high standard because I know exactly what I am looking for and I would rather be alone while waiting for the right one than date around just to feel wanted. However, there was a time when I did not feel that way and now I regret all the losers I have wasted my time with. 

I am never the one with a clever phrase always at the tip of my tongue. I say awkward things and think of the perfect thing I could have said later. I have been the brunt of rumors. I have hurt people. I have rubbed people the wrong way. I am repelled by sicky-sweet people because I cannot relate. I do things out of spite. I am a realist. I get a sick pleasure out of bursting people’s bubbles. I am way too serious deep down. I am not trashy, but I confuse people because I thrive on being edgy, weird and shocking. If I could, my hair would always be like a rainbow and I would wear my leopard-print pants all over the place. I wear make-up to the point where people always ask why I’m dressed up. I’m really just putting on my lipstick so I can feel ready for the day, even if it involves staying home. 

I am hot pink and black. I am brown and blue and green. I am silver, not gold. I am blue lipstick. I am nomad. I am written words. I am dark chocolate. I am underdog. I am ocean waves. I am romantic drama. I am heroic action film with an epic conclusion. I am fantasy. I am windblown palm trees in the sun. I am overcast skies and rain. I am wind. I am yellow Plymouth Prowler. I am fufu coffee. I am ripped jeans. I am fast driver in the country. I am classic literature. I am heart-filled instrumental music. I am loyalty. I am rose. I am imagination. I am smell of pine in the morning. I am spaghetti. I am mud fight. I am saint. I am imperfect. I am Joan of Arc. I am Audrey Hepburn. I am Tobymac. I am C.S. Lewis. I am nostalgia. I am goodbye kisses. I am loving hands. I am loud music.

Ten Years Since "a day that will live in infamy..."

Ten years ago today became “a day that will live in infamy” as our country was attacked on its own soil. Countless lives were lost as people were following daily routines that never should have brought them to death. A modern version of Pearl Harbor surprise was enacted as I slept away safe in my bed. I was twelve years old and I had never even heard of the World Trade Center.

Now, that day is an unmistakable monument in our history. Songs have been written, films have been made and policies have been changed. The war continues on as we battle the evil manifestations of the pure evil that wreaks havoc and wages war within the spiritual realm. We can never be free of witnessing the evil that surrounds us in this world until the day that our King returns to vanquish the enemy.

I have to say, though, that there is such a joy and peace in seeing the increased patriotism we share. Patriotism is one of the ten things that can really make me cry. Through all the years of watching television programs, listening to interviews, seeing pictures, reading articles and hearing stories, our unique sense of patriotism has become so beautiful to me. For one, after all the civil warring and discrimination, seeing our diverse country come together in a time of grief becomes all the more moving and precious.

Patriotism is hope because it brings us together when hopelessness would surely tear us apart. Patriotism is peace because it gives us a reverence for the relationships in our lives and works to dissolve discord. Patriotism is justice because it involves standing up for what is right and fighting for the ones we love. (Peace and fighting…I know, that sounds like a contradiction, but it brings peace among us so we can stick together and we fight the attacker in defense.)

Patriotism contains stories in which personal experience is shared and souls are bonded. Stories in which we glimpse the good that is worth fighting for and the contrasting side that we must constantly choose to resist. We find stories of sacrifice and separation, heroes and villains, love and heartache, courage and honor.

Patriotism makes me cry because the stories I have heard about that day ten years ago are the stories that only seem to exist in fiction. A lot of times I feel like the world has become so black that all is lost and I should not even put in the effort of spreading the light. But that is exactly what the enemy wants…for us to stop trying. To conclude that all is lost, so why even bother? No! We must bother!

It is so good to see that there is still goodness, honor and sacrifice in this world. That these things exist in regular people today and have not been reduced simply to the characteristics of a fairy tale. That there are people who can still love their fellow man and risk their lives for someone they have never met. I cannot express how deeply moving it is to me...all of the rebuilding and the monuments erected. The firefighters that lined the streets of New York in respect as the Ladder 3 fire truck was driven to be placed in the memorial center on the site of ground zero. All of the time, thought and effort taken to honor and remember those that were lost...it's so beautiful.

My pastor (who was once in the Navy) mentioned today that we love our soldiers, policemen and firefighters because they exemplify these characteristics that Christ possesses. He is our Rescuer filled with love, honor, goodness, courage and sacrifice. We must endure the experiences of death that go on around us every day, but we can rest assured in the fact that He has won the power over death. He has already conquered the enemy and will, one day, wipe out death once and for all. He will have the victory and the ultimate enemy will be defeated.

Until then, we continue to honor the memory of those we lost ten years ago. We must continue to pray for the families as they know all too well the pain that death brings and still suffer from the loss of their loved ones. We honor the memory of all the soldiers, policemen and firefighters that have given up their lives to save others as a result of this horrific attack on our country.

We will never forget. And He will be victorious. He will make all things new.

“Therefore, since the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise also partook of the same, that through death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and might free those who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives.” -Hebrews 2:14-15





The projection of the newly completed World Trade Center and 9/11 Memorial.

31 Journals

Yesterday, I finished my thirty-first journal since I was eleven years old, beginning early in the year 2000. I have spent eleven and a half years of my life as a dedicated writer, and that’s not counting the sporadic fiction I have written since the first grade.

I just spent about half an hour organizing and recounting them. Some of my journals are pretty sizable and others…not so much. Some of the entries were neatly written and others were written in a messy rush. Some were in exquisite covers with actual flowers pressed into the thick paper. Others were composition notebooks. Many of them were gifts and some I chose myself from a bookstore. All of the dates allowed for me to put them in order.

Except for my very first journal, they were all written in cursive. I read quite a bit from the second journal. It actually did some good for me to read from it. I found it surreal to visit that girl again. She was so innocent. Such a big dreamer with a genuine and childlike love for Jesus. She had much simpler things to write about and a much more limited understanding of the world. Even back then, she just wanted to please God and make her family proud…and she had crushes on way too many boys.

Most of it was so long ago that I was pleasantly surprised with much of what I read. I hadn’t remembered that I had included a few pictures in one of the journals. I was reminded of events and rediscovered how I had felt about them. I got a glimpse into how everyday life used to be for me.

But then, in contrast, I also felt so much of it coming back to me that I vividly remember writing what I wrote on the day that I wrote it. I came across one entry about my dog that I grew up with, Dodger. He was always so vicious towards other dogs because, before we had gotten him, he had spent his first year around a couple of big, mean dogs who constantly tormented him. I wrote about our attempt to have him meet my aunt and uncle’s new puppy, Rusty. Dodger tried to bite Rusty.

As I grew older, I began to write about more serious things. In my progression, I reached a point where I realized that I was writing to no one really. If I could be writing to anyone at all, I should be writing to the Lord. After all, He knows me most intimately and, by addressing my most intimate writings to Him, I am actively taking part in deepening my intimacy with Him. So then, it’s not a one-way relationship and I can train myself, within the privacy of my thoughts, to shift my focus from being all about me to thinking of Him and others. Now, my journal entries are prayers.

I am so thankful for these personal, hand-written records of my life. In recent years, I have been disappointed to find that I have actually blocked out a lot of memories from my growing up years. Although I certainly did not write about everything (I skipped some weeks pretty often), I am glad that I can look back and remember where I have come from and have those things there with me as I discover where I am going.

Stronger

It has been exactly four weeks since I posted my last blog. I have been working on two other entries but I just haven’t felt moved to post them. With all this time gone by, many things have happened and I have been overwhelmed with all the topics I could write about. Some things have been difficult, both emotionally and spiritually taxing. Other things have been fabulous, filled with unbelievable joys and amazing blessings. I will probably have to write more than one blog to share the most important things…but here is one.

For a couple of those weeks, memories of an old and familiar sort came slipping back into the forefront of my mind. It’s funny, when you remember something that you never actually forgot, just how the present events of your life can change the flavor of those memories and readjust the light by which you see them. The present experiences can shed a new light on the past, changing and deepening our understanding of who we are today. Why do we the things we do? Why do we see the world the way we see it? Why do we relate and interact with others in the manner that we do? It all goes together.

These memories have occasionally produced a grieving process in me over the way my family has been. However, this time I did not grieve over those lost family dynamics that I always longed for, simply for the sake of having those loving, ideal relationships that I had the “right” to enjoy like so many of my friends did with their families. No. This time, I had to grieve over the way I have turned out as a result of those relational deprivations.

There are so many things I do not like about myself, things that would not exist in me if things had been different. Personal struggles and negative traits that I have acquired as a result of things being the way they were. I know if it wasn’t this set of issues it would be something else, but I kept thinking that “something else” would have been made up of normal, easier issues. And yes, I used the word normal. There IS such a thing as normal in such instances.

I have been thinking of a certain song, and lately coming across, multiple times, the Bible verses it is based on. Don’t worry about your life ‘cause if you hold it too close you’ll lose it. (Rebecca St. James) I have found that I really haven’t been holding on too tightly to things that I have in my life, but things that I do not have. I have been holding onto my “right” to have had a whole and close family. My “right” to be emotionally secure. My “right” to have healthy relational skills.

These issues are the things I struggle with about myself now. Usually I don’t worry about these things this much but they became much more apparent and particularly difficult all at once and they overwhelmed me. I was so frustrated that I thought, “If these things in my past had gone right then I wouldn’t be dealing with these stupid issues now. I wouldn’t be so emotionally unstable and relationally handicapped. I wouldn’t be so awkward, insecure and complicated.”

Most significantly, my struggle traces back to this fact: certain hurtful things that occurred in my family, during my growing up years, are what planted the negative seeds deep inside me that resulted in the most crucial struggle I have in my relationship with God now. My perception of Him has been so wrong, but it has been hard to see anything else when this image of Him has always been the primary view I have been exposed to. I know what the Bible says about Him and what His character is really like, but I have not operated on default as if I believe that. I have automatically interacted with Him as though He were entirely different from what I know Him to be.

Although I know He forgives me, I behave as if He will not take me back without holding my sin against me and making me feel guilty for it. When I have made even the slightest mistake, my first gut-reaction has been to run away and cower in fear because, surely, at the snap of a finger, He would abandon His approving smile and begin to scream at me in His wrath. When I ask for forgiveness, my perfectionist nature tells me that, because He can see so clearly into my future, He knows how soon I will commit the same act again, rendering my apologies pointless and unacceptable until I really change. I have believed that I am a second-rate child of God; that I just came along with the package deal and have no real purpose in the Kingdom of God. And I have believed that He doesn’t really care to know me at all.

These are the lies I have lived by from my childhood. I have had an influence in my life that has pounded these messages into my heart, not on purpose, but through hurtful actions and unmeant words. In addition, I know the enemy has been sure to reinforce these lies again and again. Consequently, I have been torn, mixing the God I know Him to be with the God I have projected Him to be. I have held Him at an arms length, not realizing that His heart has only been breaking for me to come to Him as I am.

“For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works and my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in secret and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth. Your eyes have seen my unformed substance and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.” Psalm 139:13-16

He doesn’t want me to go away and leave Him alone, to shut up and not be a bother. He loves me. He made me. I have tried so hard, for most of my life, to mind my own business and not rock the boat. To be invisible when, all this time, He wanted me to stop hiding from Him and beating myself up, because it is certainly not His intent to beat me up. His intent is to love me and use me for good things. We were born to be a part of something holy. (Stellar Kart) I am no exception to that.

Since this most recent grieving process, I am again accepting the way things have turned out. The way I have turned out. Because, thank the Lord, I am not stuck this way. He is the only One who has the power to change me.

No, my life has not turned out perfectly or even as clean as others I know. But it is all for His purpose. I see now that not everyone was made to deal with the same things that I have dealt with. I was chosen to handle these things. I was equipped to handle these things. Some people were not made to reach their fullest capacity of use by having a squeaky clean life, just as others were not made to reach their fullest capacity of use in having a heinously messy life.

Let’s face it though, everybody’s life is at least a little messy. No perfect story makes it onto the bookshelf. Life is messy. My life is messy. And although I can imagine some really great scenarios of how wonderful and perfect my life could have turned out, after allowing myself to run through some realistic alternatives, I ended up seeing that none of those alternate lives would be capable of all the things that my life is capable of now. I see how the life I have lived is more usable to God in the lives of others than the life I would have chosen for myself. And, ironically, those things that hurt me can be used, in many ways, to make me better in the long run than if I had been completely shielded from experiencing anything. They have made me stronger. They will make me stronger. He knows that this is gonna make you stronger, stronger. (Mandisa)

The fear left me when I took a breath.

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within you.” –John 7:38

I didn’t wait long after testing the water to jump right into the shallow entrance of the sea. There was an ocean before me and I was there to plunge into the waves and reduce my life on the beach to a mere memory. It was a little cold, but I was so overjoyed with the fact that I could swim I didn’t even bother to take much notice.

As I made my way deeper, I could more easily dip myself under the surface for a taste of the joy and wonder I found there. When the water became too deep, most of my body remained underneath. But the waves were coming. The introduction to my new life here was ending and the wonder of its beginning was to be faced with challenges.

The waves grew bigger and I practiced my maneuvers, not to escape them, but to go through them. I remembered the early lessons of my swim teacher and his instruction led me on, although I did not follow the later instructions he had given me because I had not yet put them into practice and understood how to use them. I grew weary, but I was confident that if I withstood the testing waves of challenge, I would reach the calmer seas beyond. Then, the simple life would return. I would then reach my ultimate goal.

The waves were more challenging than I would have thought. I was thrown quite a bit and for a long time. My knees were shot into sharp rocks, my elbows received gashes and I’m sure there were a few bruises. I had to kick my way to the surface for air and my lungs burned like fire. Several times, I even found I had been shot back to where I was before in more shallow waters. The tide was wretched.

It was then I realized that I had begun to practice the later instructions of my teacher through all of these waves, the more advanced material. It had made me stronger and I finally made it through the waves before me. I could not have done it without him. Surely, even in the shallow depths I would have failed.

At last, I made my way to the calmer and deeper sea. The massive waves of my past were behind me, but they had left me tired and worn. I held my breath at first so I could float and rest on the surface somewhat. After a time, I had caught my breath and I turned to the open sea to continue on.

It was then that I realized…I must have sprained my ankle in the turmoil. There had been more damage done than I thought. It was so painful to swim. I didn’t like this. Now that I was out where I could swim deeply, I was hurting too much to do so the way I had wanted. Should I go back to give up? To rest and start over? Once I got out of the water, there would be no guarantee that I would want to get back in. No. I wanted to carry on from where I was. I would just have to endure the pain.

My swim was a slow and hobbling venture. Sometimes I would go underneath the surface and rely mostly on my arms to get me by, that is, until I healed. I remained that way for a long time…too long. I made it a habit of dipping down every so often, relying on the support of the water to keep me afloat just below the surface as I travelled, and then I would come up for air and kick hard to keep myself above. I thought I was making great progress. I was going further and further out, but I was still growing weary. I had to stop and rest often and the sun had come out, so that did not help.

I kept on with this cycle and the time crawled by. I couldn’t understand why I was having such a difficult time. I wasn’t growing in this life. I was only getting tired. This wasn’t the life that was promised to me. All I had gained was a life of pain and struggle. The only relief I really ever felt was when I was underneath, completely submerged in the sea. To be surrounded by the depths of the life I chose, not merely travelling through. I didn’t like that my head was left out of the wonderful feeling for so much of the time. Not to mention, I was getting a sunburn too.

Finally, my frustrations caught up with me and I stopped. Where was this life leading me? I didn’t want to give up because I still had hope for discovering what I had been looking for, longing for, seeking to fill myself with. But I was at a loss. I hadn’t found it. I knew I was close but it was somehow eluding me.

As I lied floating on the surface, quiet and still, I heard something beneath me. A sound. An echo. A voice. Was it here? Had it been there all along? It had not occurred to me before. It was clear that I had given up my life on the land. There really was no reasonable way I should survive out here. Why did I ever think I would be able to live out here as if I still lived on the land? As if I were going back? There was no going back. I had come out here to die to myself.

It had never been about how far across the surface I could go. It was about how deep I could go. There had been an entire level of existence below me that I had been missing, because it hadn’t seemed logical. It was crazy. My purpose, all along, was to go deeper into the depths of this sea.

I was hesitant as I thought this out. But what did I have to lose? All I knew was that being underneath is where all my joy came from. I slipped myself beneath the glassy sea, letting it cover me like a blanket. I sank further and further. I closed my eyes.

The fear left me when I took a breath.

My eyes darted open. My body was well and alert. I had died to my old self by taking that breath and found that I was alive…because I didn’t need the air. I felt the full extent of the living water inside me. Believe it or not, I laughed. I smiled and threw back my head in joy. In wonder, I was no longer absorbed with the travelling and the distance. I moved about slowly, twisting down head first to challenge the direction of gravity. Turning upward to see my hair floating above me, following me down.

I was surprised that I did not descend into darkness. The ocean floor was light and I could see the sun glinting of the endless shades off fish and other creatures. I swam closer and discovered the beauty of this creation. All the sights I had been missing. Every detail my eyes captured deepened my knowledge of the sea’s character. It became even more wondrous and mysterious to me than before. I wanted to see more.

I became lost in the wonders of my new life. It has by no means been perfect nor shall it ever be so. I have faced dark crevices and frightening sights. I know there is more to come. But my ankle has healed. Wounds that I received during my early experience in the waves have left some scars that will never go away. I will always be reminded of how I got them. But the memory of pain has been dimmed and I can live with those scars. As long as I am in the place of this marvelous light, I will continue to grow closer to what really matters. The journey has taken me deeper into the heart of the sea.

I can never know all there is under the surface. It's too grand and endless for me to comprehend. I can only explore it in parts, get to know those parts as much as I am able and then I will at least know the character of the sea in general. I will understand a bit better the parts I will not make it to in this life. Others will explore many of those different parts. I may pass some of them by and learn about the places I have not been to before, the things I have not seen. I may go where they have gone too and I may need to remain content with only knowing about their experience. I will stay where I need to stay or continue on to the next place I need to go.

I don’t know where I’m going, but as long as I am submerged, exploring the character and the vastness of this sea, I will only grow within its depths. I don’t know where I will come out, but I know that when I do it will be on the other side, on brighter shores. And I don’t know what all awaits me on that shore, but I know that my journey in this place will be over and a new journey, whole and everlasting, will begin.

Body and Soul

The gifted writer C.S. Lewis once said, “You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”

I think about how my soul is invisible. My soul is the core of my being and it is eternal. Only my body is visible, but it is temporal. I have a veil over my eyes so that I can only see temporal things. I cannot see anything eternal. “For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” - 2 Corinthians 4:17-18

I wonder about the beings that are part of the eternal realm and how they go about around us while our eyes are veiled, incapable of seeing their level of existence. I’m sure that if I were able to catch a glimpse of that realm I would be overwhelmed and speechless. I would freak out.

But I long for the day when I will see eternal things because then I will see my God. I will have new eyes so that I can see His face. He will take all the guilt and shame of this life. I hope my song will please Him more without the influence of sin coloring the sound that He has placed in me. No more distractions from His face. No more searching for empty things. No more separation from the ones who have left my side for His because we will all be together at His side.

We grow so accustomed to our skin that we almost do not believe that this life will really come to an end. Sometimes I feel like the life after the one here is a fairy tale, a story I have been told but will never truly see. I cannot imagine what it’s like, but I want to be there with my Jesus. I once imagined Him with glowing skin and unfathomable black eyes filled with raging red fire. Yet somehow they were still filled with love.

I know we must all wait for that day. We must complete the purpose He has created us for here in this place. We must endure “the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.” We must be. We must see Him in the beauty of His creation. We must continue on in our temporal realm and wait, ready but patiently, for the day when we will see eternal things.