God just continues to illuminate scripture that is so real and relevant to my life. I've been blog silent, if you will... as I just processed everything carefully as not to misunderstand what He was saying to me.
I attended an Experiencing God conference hosted at Summit Church. I felt a strong call on my life to jump off the edge of comfortable christian living and embrace His invitation to do immeasurably more than all I could ever ask or imagine through my life (Ephesians 3:20). After seeking counsel and paying attention to opportunity, God placed a country on my heart. What He was calling me to after that was frightening beyond belief, but I remembered... Isaiah 55:8 "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord."
So I began to just search His Word, believing, trusting, praying that He would make His purpose and plan for my future very clear.
Then I waited.
Psalm 130:5 "I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I put my hope."
Lamentations 3:24-26 "I say to myself, The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him. The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."
Then I found confirmation.
James 1:27 "Religion that God our father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." God had placed Haiti on my heart. God also began to immediately open doors to lead me into relationships that would provide an opportunity to serve.
And then encouragement.
1 Peter 4:10 "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." I began to cry out to God and beg Him to reveal my "gifts". I pleaded for clarity and vision. I prayed for a passion and a path. In this season, I struggled back and forth with God. I started to drift from the call God had placed in my heart. I would wrestle the conviction away assuring myself that I had nothing to offer. I wasn't good at much. I was a coward. I would fail. I wouldn't follow through and so much more of the like. To tell you I am healed of these fears, would at this point be a lie. However, I ate a piece of humble pie as I realized that this had nothing to do with me. All my righteous acts are like filthy rags in the presence of God (Isaiah 64:6). God is alive and real and in the business of redeeming lives and he is inviting me to participate in that. He is offering up an opportunity to witness Him move big and great and mightily.
He has continued to do a work in my life. Constantly refining and perfecting the plan He has for me, which I am excited to share with you soon. But before too much of the plan is revealed, I will look to an example from the life of Nehemiah. In Nehemiah chapter 1, Nehemiah hears of the condition of his people and hometown. In verse 4 he writes, "When I heard these things, I sat down and wept. For some days I mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heaven."
After this, Nehemiah acted.
I will go to Haiti allowing the Lord to break me and burden me for the people there. I will fast and pray and weep. And when I return, I will hit the ground running, throwing off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and run with perseverance in the race marked out for me(Hebrews 12:1).
"Let me look on the crowd as my Savior did, Till my eyes with tears grow dim. Let me view with pity the wandering sheep, And love them for love of Him." -unknown
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Praying Psalms
I tackled Psalm 119, you know the crazy loooong one. There were many recurring themes, but one especially I found treasure in. I had been begging God to show me 'what now?'. All I knew is that destruction had come and God had promised it was for my good (Romans 8:28). But, the promise didn't remove the pain. What was I to do with all of that gunk?
And then I found...
Psalm 119:28 My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.
So I got in the Word.
And then I found...
Psalm 126:5-6 Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.
Carrying seed to sow, you say... what is that? I want songs of joy. Luke 8:11 Jesus' parable lays it out, "The seed is the Word of God." Further on in the parable we learn how to be the 'good seed'. By hearing the Word, retaining it and by persevering we'll then produce a crop.
Galatians 6:9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
Hebrews 6:12 ...Imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.
Is anyone else seeing how beautifully this is being knit together?
Psalm 119:103-105 How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! I gain understanding from your precepts; therefore I hate every wrong path. Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.
And then I found...
Psalm 119:28 My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.
So I got in the Word.
And then I found...
Psalm 126:5-6 Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.
Carrying seed to sow, you say... what is that? I want songs of joy. Luke 8:11 Jesus' parable lays it out, "The seed is the Word of God." Further on in the parable we learn how to be the 'good seed'. By hearing the Word, retaining it and by persevering we'll then produce a crop.
Galatians 6:9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
Hebrews 6:12 ...Imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.
Is anyone else seeing how beautifully this is being knit together?
Psalm 119:103-105 How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! I gain understanding from your precepts; therefore I hate every wrong path. Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sifting and such.
"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." Luke 22:31-32
There is so much hope in Christ's words here to Peter. Too tired for complete sentences, however I will attempt to tell you all that this speaks to me.
Satan can't test me without God's permission. Now, whether this is true for all stories, I can definitely see a similarity between this instance with Peter and one several books back in Job. If that is the case, then I can draw that Christ also knows the outcome will end up with less of me and more of Him. I read somewhere that God is practical and he doesn't allow people to be sifted who have nothing they need radically extracted from their lives.
In Peter's case... perhaps he needed to be sifted in order to remove his pride, leaving a blank pallet for Christ to build the first Christian church. My case, less noble but I had to be stripped of my desire to be married. It sounds dramatic and cold, but when the drive to be married (harmless as it sounds) reigned higher in my heart than God... it needed to go.
Oh, the ugly sins it gave birth to: idolatry, discontentment, distrust... forgive me sweet Savior. You are everything I need. I've returned my eyes back to You and You alone. It was all about what I could gain, instead of what I was being called to give.
"...I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteous of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ..." Philippians 3:8-9
There is so much hope in Christ's words here to Peter. Too tired for complete sentences, however I will attempt to tell you all that this speaks to me.
Satan can't test me without God's permission. Now, whether this is true for all stories, I can definitely see a similarity between this instance with Peter and one several books back in Job. If that is the case, then I can draw that Christ also knows the outcome will end up with less of me and more of Him. I read somewhere that God is practical and he doesn't allow people to be sifted who have nothing they need radically extracted from their lives.
In Peter's case... perhaps he needed to be sifted in order to remove his pride, leaving a blank pallet for Christ to build the first Christian church. My case, less noble but I had to be stripped of my desire to be married. It sounds dramatic and cold, but when the drive to be married (harmless as it sounds) reigned higher in my heart than God... it needed to go.
Oh, the ugly sins it gave birth to: idolatry, discontentment, distrust... forgive me sweet Savior. You are everything I need. I've returned my eyes back to You and You alone. It was all about what I could gain, instead of what I was being called to give.
"...I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteous of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ..." Philippians 3:8-9
Thursday, August 6, 2009
John 13:7
I'm not one to take scripture out of context. Herman who? (inside story) But, in this one case I didn't bother reading before or after... I just rested on this verse.
Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand."
I'm not trying to make the holy spirit out to be a mystic magic 8 ball, but all I know is I haven't been able to shake the urge (for about a week now) to go down to my car and find this particular Beth Moore bible study. Now, I had a perfectly good new one upstairs--three if you want me to be honest. Something about this one though. So I grabbed it. Oh but I must tell you that it is all kinds of damaged. Looks as if it went swimming, got sat on, stepped on, chewed on. Says something of my character, I guess, that it's lived under my car seat for the better part of almost two years. As I flipped through the pages, astonished with how far I had gotten, but better yet comforted by what I found. I had started this study in January of 2008. The vulnerability on each page almost brought me to tears. It was vague enough that I don't know or remember exactly what I was going through, but my words were written from a very humble and honest heart.
I read over my fears, insecurities, worst case scenarios and more importantly God's answer to them all. Right there on the pages before me unfolded the ugly truth that everything I had tried to avoid came true. I hadn't listened then, or maybe I didn't understand what He was asking of me. But, in the months following I got it way wrong. Then my eyes went to a scribble in one of the margins, John 13:7. So, I turned to it quickly in my Bible and if I wasn't already sitting, I'd most certainly have fallen over. You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.
There was a sadness that swept over me--thinking, if only I had listened or understood or obeyed. Nothing in my power can go back and change what happened in and through my heart back then, but that is not where I will dwell tonight.
I didn't listen or understand then. Goodnews, I am listening now... still a little confused, but this I know:
He allowed all my biggest fears to unfold into one glorious disaster. In doing so, giving me another opportunity to completely depend on Him... to realize He isn't merely the author of my love story, better so He IS my love story. He is the only solution to my joy. He will never let me down. He will never break a promise. He is safe, secure, worthy of my trust. And are you ready for this... He loves me unconditionally.
I am loving that He fights this hard for me. My response to that is easy, and the best part... I don't have to fake it anymore. My head and heart aren't on opposing teams. They both are very thankful for a God who doesn't give up.
Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand."
I'm not trying to make the holy spirit out to be a mystic magic 8 ball, but all I know is I haven't been able to shake the urge (for about a week now) to go down to my car and find this particular Beth Moore bible study. Now, I had a perfectly good new one upstairs--three if you want me to be honest. Something about this one though. So I grabbed it. Oh but I must tell you that it is all kinds of damaged. Looks as if it went swimming, got sat on, stepped on, chewed on. Says something of my character, I guess, that it's lived under my car seat for the better part of almost two years. As I flipped through the pages, astonished with how far I had gotten, but better yet comforted by what I found. I had started this study in January of 2008. The vulnerability on each page almost brought me to tears. It was vague enough that I don't know or remember exactly what I was going through, but my words were written from a very humble and honest heart.
I read over my fears, insecurities, worst case scenarios and more importantly God's answer to them all. Right there on the pages before me unfolded the ugly truth that everything I had tried to avoid came true. I hadn't listened then, or maybe I didn't understand what He was asking of me. But, in the months following I got it way wrong. Then my eyes went to a scribble in one of the margins, John 13:7. So, I turned to it quickly in my Bible and if I wasn't already sitting, I'd most certainly have fallen over. You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.
There was a sadness that swept over me--thinking, if only I had listened or understood or obeyed. Nothing in my power can go back and change what happened in and through my heart back then, but that is not where I will dwell tonight.
I didn't listen or understand then. Goodnews, I am listening now... still a little confused, but this I know:
He allowed all my biggest fears to unfold into one glorious disaster. In doing so, giving me another opportunity to completely depend on Him... to realize He isn't merely the author of my love story, better so He IS my love story. He is the only solution to my joy. He will never let me down. He will never break a promise. He is safe, secure, worthy of my trust. And are you ready for this... He loves me unconditionally.
I am loving that He fights this hard for me. My response to that is easy, and the best part... I don't have to fake it anymore. My head and heart aren't on opposing teams. They both are very thankful for a God who doesn't give up.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Grieve appropriately, Respond rightly.
Grieve appropriately. Oh, I have the grieve part down. I could have certainly filled up my own 50 gallon salt water fish tank with the amount of tears I've cried since June.
The appropriate part, I might've missed. But, I have repented of my misplaced hope and lack of trust in God's timing and sovereignty.
I felt like God was impressing on me to respond by giving up Mason and all the while reflecting His glory.
However, I had not rightly understood the calling. All I dwelt on was that God was asking me to give up Mason. And I couldn't process that kind of pain. I couldn't shake my hurt, so I wasn't able to glorify God rightly. Then I got it. I was looking at the request so negatively, I was to busy mourning my loss to realize what was really happening. God was asking me to GAIN HIM.
It's not about what I'm losing... it's about everything I have to gain in Christ. He's not asking me to lay down something good, without offering something better: Him. He has to be enough. He has to be my desire. My satisfaction is found in He and He alone. If I can grab a hold of this truth, believe it and live it out, I will have gained the greatest treasure.
The appropriate part, I might've missed. But, I have repented of my misplaced hope and lack of trust in God's timing and sovereignty.
I felt like God was impressing on me to respond by giving up Mason and all the while reflecting His glory.
However, I had not rightly understood the calling. All I dwelt on was that God was asking me to give up Mason. And I couldn't process that kind of pain. I couldn't shake my hurt, so I wasn't able to glorify God rightly. Then I got it. I was looking at the request so negatively, I was to busy mourning my loss to realize what was really happening. God was asking me to GAIN HIM.
It's not about what I'm losing... it's about everything I have to gain in Christ. He's not asking me to lay down something good, without offering something better: Him. He has to be enough. He has to be my desire. My satisfaction is found in He and He alone. If I can grab a hold of this truth, believe it and live it out, I will have gained the greatest treasure.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Marvelous hope.
It seems as if I could squeeze a lifetime in the space between the last entry and now. This has been a story of walking through my present personal tragedy and learning how to be a good steward through all of that. So far having not done so well. I wrestled through journal/blogging in this season... certain I would not want to remember any of this hurt, but now I'm convinced I don't want to forget a single word from God.
Early on in my despair, God told me to get over it. Which made me angry and sad. But if I truly trusted God like I've always "said" then all he was asking me to do was prove it. Not quite two months into this He's maintained His request but refined it further by challenging me to respond in a way that reflects His glory. I have repeatedly thanked God for Maggie and Jordan's story. What an awesome example of how to be a good steward with everything you've been given--whether that is sickness or a canceled wedding.
Tonight Vicky shared amazing insight on a familiar story. Mary and Martha asked God to heal Lazarus. They knew he could do that. They didn't know he could raise him from the dead. The story plays out, Lazarus dies and God allows the sisters to grieve and walk through that sorrow, only to give them a deeper understanding of His power and goodness. (Vicky explains it so much more eloquently, I hope I didn't butcher it too much)
I also keep returning to two stories in the gospel. The first is a story where a father asks Jesus to cast the evil spirits from his son. "If you can..." says the father. Jesus presses further asking if he believes and he says in Mark 9:24, "I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief". This has been my prayer now for several days. Along the same lines, I am drawn to a story in Luke 17, where the disciples cry out asking God to "increase their faith".
The application pours on as God drew me over to the story of Abraham and Isaac. God is asking me to lay Mason down... to open the palms of my hands and realize nothing I have is mine. Originally I easily agreed to lay him down, but if and only if God promised him in return. And I waited and asked, but that peace never came. It was clear that God wanted a total surrender, more so to not only lay him down but to walk away. I cannot deny that my desire is that the Lord would lead me back to Mason, but I understand that is not where I will put my hope.
Tonight I am painfully encouraged, thankfully blessed and genuinely hopeful. Though, it seems impossible to picture a world without Mason in it, I am rejoicing in a season where God is near and speaks to me daily and hourly if I am disciplined.
God, how would you have me respond?
I have been hiding from friends. I felt a strong conviction that when asked, I should be reflecting God's glory. But it felt as if that would be faking it, so instead I avoided everyone. When I was confronted in public and asked questions like, "How was the wedding?" "How does it feel to be married?" "Let me see your ring!" and the like, I literally shut down. I would watch powerlessly as the poor unsuspecting soul would awkwardly try to wiggle out of the question. I offered absolutely no help. To you all and to God, I apologize and weep over all the missed opportunities to be a good steward of my present circumstance. What I should've shared was that my God is a God of grace and mercy who loves me and desires good for me. I should've told you how faithful He has been to bring me out of despair and into His presence. I should have expressed how thankful I am and how He gave forgiveness to my wretched soul and placed inside of me a marvelous hope.
Early on in my despair, God told me to get over it. Which made me angry and sad. But if I truly trusted God like I've always "said" then all he was asking me to do was prove it. Not quite two months into this He's maintained His request but refined it further by challenging me to respond in a way that reflects His glory. I have repeatedly thanked God for Maggie and Jordan's story. What an awesome example of how to be a good steward with everything you've been given--whether that is sickness or a canceled wedding.
Tonight Vicky shared amazing insight on a familiar story. Mary and Martha asked God to heal Lazarus. They knew he could do that. They didn't know he could raise him from the dead. The story plays out, Lazarus dies and God allows the sisters to grieve and walk through that sorrow, only to give them a deeper understanding of His power and goodness. (Vicky explains it so much more eloquently, I hope I didn't butcher it too much)
I also keep returning to two stories in the gospel. The first is a story where a father asks Jesus to cast the evil spirits from his son. "If you can..." says the father. Jesus presses further asking if he believes and he says in Mark 9:24, "I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief". This has been my prayer now for several days. Along the same lines, I am drawn to a story in Luke 17, where the disciples cry out asking God to "increase their faith".
The application pours on as God drew me over to the story of Abraham and Isaac. God is asking me to lay Mason down... to open the palms of my hands and realize nothing I have is mine. Originally I easily agreed to lay him down, but if and only if God promised him in return. And I waited and asked, but that peace never came. It was clear that God wanted a total surrender, more so to not only lay him down but to walk away. I cannot deny that my desire is that the Lord would lead me back to Mason, but I understand that is not where I will put my hope.
Tonight I am painfully encouraged, thankfully blessed and genuinely hopeful. Though, it seems impossible to picture a world without Mason in it, I am rejoicing in a season where God is near and speaks to me daily and hourly if I am disciplined.
God, how would you have me respond?
I have been hiding from friends. I felt a strong conviction that when asked, I should be reflecting God's glory. But it felt as if that would be faking it, so instead I avoided everyone. When I was confronted in public and asked questions like, "How was the wedding?" "How does it feel to be married?" "Let me see your ring!" and the like, I literally shut down. I would watch powerlessly as the poor unsuspecting soul would awkwardly try to wiggle out of the question. I offered absolutely no help. To you all and to God, I apologize and weep over all the missed opportunities to be a good steward of my present circumstance. What I should've shared was that my God is a God of grace and mercy who loves me and desires good for me. I should've told you how faithful He has been to bring me out of despair and into His presence. I should have expressed how thankful I am and how He gave forgiveness to my wretched soul and placed inside of me a marvelous hope.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Suffering and Pride.
Conviction:
God has been very clear, instructing me to get over it. Scripture tells me what He means by that is, cast your anxiety on the Lord for He cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7) I understand that I should rejoice in many trials because it is a testing of my faith so that I may be mature, complete not lacking anything. (James 1:2-4) I know that God works all things out for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)
I can quote it, but truthfully I haven't believed any of it.
I'm still hurt, broken and I cry a lot. I am embarrassed to say that out loud for fear that someone with real troubles will read it. People have and will hurt far worse than "being left at the alter". I am a silly girl, forgive me.
A little bit before that verse Peter quotes Proverbs explaining, "God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble". (1 Peter 5:6b)
Ouch that hurts, Holy Spirit. Are you calling me prideful? How so? I'm weak, I'm sad... I'm the victim.
Proud people don't praise God; they're are too consumed with themselves. Humble people are in awe of Him; thankful praise pours naturally from their hearts.
Response:
1 Peter 5:10, And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
This verse tells me a couple things. The first being that God is grace and love and good. To put it boldly, no matter how fierce my testing, I can be thankful I am not in hell where I ought to be. Secondly, it reminds me of His eternal glory. This enables me to look beyond the sufferings of this world to a time where I will be with Him forever. My third comfort is that suffering is just for 'a little while', when held up to the eternal, life's afflictions are less than momentary. And lastly, I should be encouraged that God uses my suffering to mold and perfect my christian character. My commentary says that persecution is intended by Satan to weaken and wear out believers. When put that way, it would appear there is a battle over my obedience right now.
My response tonight is (long overdue) repentance. I didn't want to acknowledge that being sad was pride, I hadn't even considered it. But, humility requires strong confidence in a caring God. I doubted that He was good. I didn't believe that He cared. I didn't think His promises of good were for me. I think am allowed to wrestle with God through those things. I intend to ask for understanding and peace and proof... but I MUST get on my face and beg for my sin of unbelief immediately.
Job prays, "surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know... My ears had heard of You but now my eyes have seen You. Therefore I despise myself and repent". (Job 42:3, 5-6)
God has been very clear, instructing me to get over it. Scripture tells me what He means by that is, cast your anxiety on the Lord for He cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7) I understand that I should rejoice in many trials because it is a testing of my faith so that I may be mature, complete not lacking anything. (James 1:2-4) I know that God works all things out for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)
I can quote it, but truthfully I haven't believed any of it.
I'm still hurt, broken and I cry a lot. I am embarrassed to say that out loud for fear that someone with real troubles will read it. People have and will hurt far worse than "being left at the alter". I am a silly girl, forgive me.
A little bit before that verse Peter quotes Proverbs explaining, "God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble". (1 Peter 5:6b)
Ouch that hurts, Holy Spirit. Are you calling me prideful? How so? I'm weak, I'm sad... I'm the victim.
Proud people don't praise God; they're are too consumed with themselves. Humble people are in awe of Him; thankful praise pours naturally from their hearts.
Response:
1 Peter 5:10, And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
This verse tells me a couple things. The first being that God is grace and love and good. To put it boldly, no matter how fierce my testing, I can be thankful I am not in hell where I ought to be. Secondly, it reminds me of His eternal glory. This enables me to look beyond the sufferings of this world to a time where I will be with Him forever. My third comfort is that suffering is just for 'a little while', when held up to the eternal, life's afflictions are less than momentary. And lastly, I should be encouraged that God uses my suffering to mold and perfect my christian character. My commentary says that persecution is intended by Satan to weaken and wear out believers. When put that way, it would appear there is a battle over my obedience right now.
My response tonight is (long overdue) repentance. I didn't want to acknowledge that being sad was pride, I hadn't even considered it. But, humility requires strong confidence in a caring God. I doubted that He was good. I didn't believe that He cared. I didn't think His promises of good were for me. I think am allowed to wrestle with God through those things. I intend to ask for understanding and peace and proof... but I MUST get on my face and beg for my sin of unbelief immediately.
Job prays, "surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know... My ears had heard of You but now my eyes have seen You. Therefore I despise myself and repent". (Job 42:3, 5-6)
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Back to Norm.
I am happy to report I said a prayer. It wasn't good by any means. I was about to make my way out the front door for my first day back to work and basically my first appearance back into civilization. I didn't sleep the entire night before. I had an emotional break down or two that day (Sunday). And found myself in bed for the night with shortness of breath and a pounding heart. Doctor Mason diagnosed this as a panic attack and sweetly prayed for me over the phone. I took an herbal sleep supplement and it did it's job. I knocked out around 8:30 for the night. I woke up from a dead sleep thinking, surely it was 7:00 am and my alarm would be going off soon, but not quite. It was not even 10 pm. With roughly an hour and a half nap I was determined to give the full night's rest one more shot. Unfortunately my night would play out pretty much the same frustrating way it had started... waking up every hour or two until the anger built so much so that I couldn't even go back to sleep anymore. I threw the towel in sometime around the wee morning hours accepting the fact that not only would today be emotionally hard, now I would also have the privilege of being beyond exhausted.
I unlocked the door and took one step out. The anxiety was so strong and the sun so bright that I stepped back in and shut the door. I hadn't formally talked to God at this point and I figured now was as good of a time as any. Though, it wasn't poetic or beautiful by any means. I stood there with my head up against the cold metal (or whatever it is made out of) door and my eyes closed. I stood there for several minutes just repeating, 'I don't know what to say, I don't know what to say'. Eventually I squeaked out a 'I need You, please be with me today even though I've been angry with You and avoided You and don't deserve Your grace'.
Back-to-work-Monday was surprisingly huge in my recovery process. Thankful my coworkers were gracious and didn't acknowledge the ginormous elephant in my office with me the whole day. They did however tell me a bunch of sweet things, like how pretty I looked and how much they missed me. I was brutally honest that I had not missed them and was currently plotting in my head how to never work again. But, all jokes aside... I survived. As the new norm, God poured His grace on me that day even though I so so didn't deserve it.
I'd say the previous week I was operating at about 30%. I was a bipolar mess. After my 8 hour shift on Monday, I felt about 80%. Life was still marching on.
I have been steadfast with my Bible time. Last night he told me, "without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him". Hebrews 11:6. I remembered that God really does want good things for my life. Maybe not the same good things I want or expect, but I have been acting as if he is a cruel God who just wanted to hurt me and break my heart. I see now, that the end result of what happened was a Jen who earnestly seeks God. That is all about His glory, not my hurt. And shockingly despite of that, He wants to bless me? Why on earth? It makes no sense.
And as always, I end my days not comprehending His grace and thanking Him for His faithfulness. Tonight, I'm praying for the hurt to go away, but hoping these lessons never leave me.
I unlocked the door and took one step out. The anxiety was so strong and the sun so bright that I stepped back in and shut the door. I hadn't formally talked to God at this point and I figured now was as good of a time as any. Though, it wasn't poetic or beautiful by any means. I stood there with my head up against the cold metal (or whatever it is made out of) door and my eyes closed. I stood there for several minutes just repeating, 'I don't know what to say, I don't know what to say'. Eventually I squeaked out a 'I need You, please be with me today even though I've been angry with You and avoided You and don't deserve Your grace'.
Back-to-work-Monday was surprisingly huge in my recovery process. Thankful my coworkers were gracious and didn't acknowledge the ginormous elephant in my office with me the whole day. They did however tell me a bunch of sweet things, like how pretty I looked and how much they missed me. I was brutally honest that I had not missed them and was currently plotting in my head how to never work again. But, all jokes aside... I survived. As the new norm, God poured His grace on me that day even though I so so didn't deserve it.
I'd say the previous week I was operating at about 30%. I was a bipolar mess. After my 8 hour shift on Monday, I felt about 80%. Life was still marching on.
I have been steadfast with my Bible time. Last night he told me, "without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him". Hebrews 11:6. I remembered that God really does want good things for my life. Maybe not the same good things I want or expect, but I have been acting as if he is a cruel God who just wanted to hurt me and break my heart. I see now, that the end result of what happened was a Jen who earnestly seeks God. That is all about His glory, not my hurt. And shockingly despite of that, He wants to bless me? Why on earth? It makes no sense.
And as always, I end my days not comprehending His grace and thanking Him for His faithfulness. Tonight, I'm praying for the hurt to go away, but hoping these lessons never leave me.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Believing Him.
I've been itching to write for sometime, and I can't say I understand God's irony of subject. Maybe, I should've been more specific: I want to write about anything but a personal tragedy. Whatever the case, here we are. Knee deep in what seems to be an unshakable nightmare... plenty to write about.
I avoided God for a time. I was angry with Him. I was torn, to weep or not to weep. I trusted Him, but I was having an extremely hard time trusting His timing. I hadn't in the past, why would it surprise me I'm still pressed up against the same rock?
Mason has prayed for us many times. There I am, bowed head, scrunched nose... saying under my breath, stay back Lord. I haven't dove into prayer yet, short of one of the first nights screaming and pleading with him to take it all away. A couple times I sat in darkness trying to remember where I had heard that the Holy Spirit intercedes in prayer when you don't know what to say and hoping that was the case presently.
Scripture also tells me God is near to the brokenhearted, I can testify that to be true. When I desired to push Him away, He never left my side. He spoke sweetly to me hourly and I always felt His presence. In one of Mason's prayers I remember him thanking God for His faithfulness, though he had not been faithful. I liked that, I hope the Holy Spirit interceded that for me, too. I'm being smug, but I'm trying to cleverly explain that void of a formal, Dear God prayer beginning and end... I feel like He's here, alive and unwilling to be silent. I don't know why or how I deserve it, nay I know I absolutely don't. (I've always wanted to use 'nay' in a sentence.)
I've been fighting it, but God told me very early on to stop mourning. Some form of sin, don't have a label for it yet but something told me to stay sad, because no one else would be sad for me. I had to mourn for myself, because everyone else's lives were moving on. People I'm sure were eating normal meals, even dare I say laughing? All the while I was still in bed with beyond puffy eyes and a pounding head.
I've been hiding from people. Scared maybe, that they'd see me out of bed and assume I was fine and never hurt. Then surely they would not feel any sympathy for what I had just gone through. I wanted to hold up a sign to every cashier or passerby letting them know that I was supposed to be married, but my fiance decided against it at the last minute. But if you can believe me, also wanting to just disappear never to have to face the look of pity in a friend or family member's eyes. Certain that no one can understand that I have to relive the embarrassment and pain in each new personal encounter. Feel bad for me, but keep it to yourself. How does that even make sense?
My days have followed in this same indecisive suit. I want this, no that. I want out of the house, and then immediately long for my dark room. The only constants remaining I love my mom and I am better when Mason is near.
As before, God is very much telling me to get over it. Partly, why maybe I still harbor a tinge of anger in His direction. Regardless I'm out of bed daily and back to eating and drinking. I can't imagine I would have been this far advanced had he not reached divinely down to pull me out of the pit.
He's also asking me to BELIEVE HIM and He's challenging me to TRUST HIM. I can assure you these are not new phrases to my vocabulary, but never actually having been challenged to obey them personally from Dear Heavenly Father. Here's where my journey begins. If I believe Him, trust Him, desire His will and wish to follow Mason's lead then I have nothing to be mourning over. Yes mourn over the sin that lead me here and that my Savior drank that cup so that I would not die but live. That, I am justified in mourning. Being sad because God reached in and gave Mason and I a chance to redeem our relationship, not necessary. Wrecked that for the first time in ages we are back walking with the Lord, seems silly. Depressed because this trial is the testing of my faith, which develops perseverance, which must finish its work so that I may be mature and complete, not lacking anything... well, when you put it that way it doesn't make much sense to grieve any longer, huh?
Monday, I will go back to work. My goal and prayer is that when they are expecting to see sorrow and hopelessness I am able to shine with joy and hope. Because both of which I seek in God and not this world. I am thankful for the opportunity to share His love. Though the smile might be a front right now, I do know that very soon I wont remember a time I had to fake it because God is faithful when I am faithless.
I avoided God for a time. I was angry with Him. I was torn, to weep or not to weep. I trusted Him, but I was having an extremely hard time trusting His timing. I hadn't in the past, why would it surprise me I'm still pressed up against the same rock?
Mason has prayed for us many times. There I am, bowed head, scrunched nose... saying under my breath, stay back Lord. I haven't dove into prayer yet, short of one of the first nights screaming and pleading with him to take it all away. A couple times I sat in darkness trying to remember where I had heard that the Holy Spirit intercedes in prayer when you don't know what to say and hoping that was the case presently.
Scripture also tells me God is near to the brokenhearted, I can testify that to be true. When I desired to push Him away, He never left my side. He spoke sweetly to me hourly and I always felt His presence. In one of Mason's prayers I remember him thanking God for His faithfulness, though he had not been faithful. I liked that, I hope the Holy Spirit interceded that for me, too. I'm being smug, but I'm trying to cleverly explain that void of a formal, Dear God prayer beginning and end... I feel like He's here, alive and unwilling to be silent. I don't know why or how I deserve it, nay I know I absolutely don't. (I've always wanted to use 'nay' in a sentence.)
I've been fighting it, but God told me very early on to stop mourning. Some form of sin, don't have a label for it yet but something told me to stay sad, because no one else would be sad for me. I had to mourn for myself, because everyone else's lives were moving on. People I'm sure were eating normal meals, even dare I say laughing? All the while I was still in bed with beyond puffy eyes and a pounding head.
I've been hiding from people. Scared maybe, that they'd see me out of bed and assume I was fine and never hurt. Then surely they would not feel any sympathy for what I had just gone through. I wanted to hold up a sign to every cashier or passerby letting them know that I was supposed to be married, but my fiance decided against it at the last minute. But if you can believe me, also wanting to just disappear never to have to face the look of pity in a friend or family member's eyes. Certain that no one can understand that I have to relive the embarrassment and pain in each new personal encounter. Feel bad for me, but keep it to yourself. How does that even make sense?
My days have followed in this same indecisive suit. I want this, no that. I want out of the house, and then immediately long for my dark room. The only constants remaining I love my mom and I am better when Mason is near.
As before, God is very much telling me to get over it. Partly, why maybe I still harbor a tinge of anger in His direction. Regardless I'm out of bed daily and back to eating and drinking. I can't imagine I would have been this far advanced had he not reached divinely down to pull me out of the pit.
He's also asking me to BELIEVE HIM and He's challenging me to TRUST HIM. I can assure you these are not new phrases to my vocabulary, but never actually having been challenged to obey them personally from Dear Heavenly Father. Here's where my journey begins. If I believe Him, trust Him, desire His will and wish to follow Mason's lead then I have nothing to be mourning over. Yes mourn over the sin that lead me here and that my Savior drank that cup so that I would not die but live. That, I am justified in mourning. Being sad because God reached in and gave Mason and I a chance to redeem our relationship, not necessary. Wrecked that for the first time in ages we are back walking with the Lord, seems silly. Depressed because this trial is the testing of my faith, which develops perseverance, which must finish its work so that I may be mature and complete, not lacking anything... well, when you put it that way it doesn't make much sense to grieve any longer, huh?
Monday, I will go back to work. My goal and prayer is that when they are expecting to see sorrow and hopelessness I am able to shine with joy and hope. Because both of which I seek in God and not this world. I am thankful for the opportunity to share His love. Though the smile might be a front right now, I do know that very soon I wont remember a time I had to fake it because God is faithful when I am faithless.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Left at the Altar.
Left at the altar.
The title was shockingly already taken. They really do have a book for everything... and yes, I shamelessly purchased it.
It's a meaty story to be posted after this, that I will hopefully continue to work on... if you take the time to read it, I would love a word of encouragement.
Thank you.
The stress of planning a wedding began to build. Our 104 day engagement seemed an eternity after dating him for 2 years and a close friendship a year prior to that. I ended up taking a half day at work that Friday before our Tuesday ceremony. The plan being to work the whole day, but the pressure of having ribbons on vases glued and last minute table placement cards made I couldn't wait to get home. My desire was to finish these not-so-fun tasks so I could look forward to the weekend’s upcoming events. Saturday, my friends would be arriving from out of state and out of town. Surely it would sink in then and seem real. It had all been a blur up until this point. Engagement, counseling, spending money, spending so much money and now I was here. With only days to go, I would finally marry my best friend. I couldn't believe it, after 25 years of Satan's lies... "You're too much, you're not enough, way too emotional and totally unlovable". I had found a man who wanted to share his life with me. He loved me and in not much over 72 hours would pledge that love in front of 86 of our closest friends, family and God.
Or so I thought.
My fiancé was very honest of his anxiousness and had been since the beginning. Wise counsel told us this was normal. This meant he was taking it serious. He had been guarded our entire relationship which was more than frustrating at the time, but with a glance over my shoulder I was able to appreciate his caution. Now as an engaged couple I knew he had weighed the decision heavily to get married. I cherished his decision, because I knew how much thought he had put into it. He didn't throw around his love and he would never write checks of promises that he couldn't cash.
Little did I know, the days leading up to this moment for him looked completely different. As I was tanning, getting my nails done and pulling an all-nighter making our wedding slideshow he was meeting with counselors and wrestling with God over his upcoming commitment.
With less than four days away from what should've been one of the most joyful days of my life, he stood before me and instead completely wrecked my world. He looked me in the eyes and tried to explain that he would not be able to follow through on his commitment. I flashed to all the weddings I had ever been in or attended. I couldn't help but be angry at all the women in my life whose husbands showed up.
I was angry, I was hurt. I remember pleading with him to tell me he was kidding. I couldn't believe with any shred inside of me that the person in this world I loved the most, had crucified me on a stake. Alongside the pain, there was pride. Eventually my family, my friends, the wedding guests and anyone I had ever met (thanks to the technology of internet social networking) would all soon hear and believe the same lie I thought I had conquered. They would know I wasn't lovable or good enough.
I did a lot of crying. You would think eventually your tear ducts wouldn't be able to keep up with the production, but to my astonishment the tears did in fact, keep coming. I would try to make myself sleep, because you couldn't feel pain while doing so. Then I realized that each time I woke up, it was like awakening into a nightmare. Weighing the options, I chose to push aside sleep for a bit and live with the uncontrollable sobs.
This whole time, the one who had broken me, my now ex-fiancé, wouldn't let me push him aside. He had slipped in and out of my consciousness. And by nothing short of the grace of a God that I was furious with... day twoish, I got out of bed. I couldn't help but be intoxicated by the voice of my executioner. It helped to see that he, too, was broken. But nevertheless my sinful wish was for him to hurt more. I felt abandoned. I felt betrayed. He had with one swooping motion driven a sword into my heart, but I couldn't bare to have him be away from me. When he was near, I felt as if he held the controls to an IV in my arm slowly pumping peace into my veins.
God had cultivated such a strong desire inside of me to marry. I had read every book and watched every sermon on how to be a Godly wife. I began to mold myself in to a woman who would love her husband, serve him and follow him all the days of her life. My willingness to be embarrassingly upfront with the events that would follow, rest completely in the hope that God will have the complete Honor and Glory at the finish line of this all.
Date was not really a word in our relationship vocabulary, though I got many a grand IOUS. I must tell you that I have come to grips with the fact that many man do not have this trait and that I may or may not have watched one too many love stories unfold on a movie screen or too many epidsodes of The Bachelor. But, know that I felt like I was settling. I didn't trust that God had a better plan in store.
I hit many rock bottoms in this area. I didn't feel pursued, I didn't feel loved and I willed and wished for him to affirm me. I didn't ask much of him. It wasn't that I needed a helicopter ride and a private dinner for two at the top of the Grand Canyon, what I needed was a sunset and a love letter.
The love story I am about to unfold might fair normal to some, but it broke my heart because it is not what I had hoped for my life. It was forced and I wept from the depths of my heart many times over the story that had played out. My creativity and imagination was intentional about hiding the not so pretty details, call it a gift or a curse? Nonetheless it was no ones business that I begged him to love me. I said and felt it first and he did not return it so quickly. No one needed to know that I cried every day when he wasn't ready to be married as soon as I was. When he did eventually purchase the ring, I picked it out. I was there when he bought it. Three of the ugliest weeks of my life would follow. Each day hoping for a promise, but it never came. He dangled my happiness in his hands each day and each night came sorrow.
Finally on the day he had planned to propose we got in a huge but, in this season sadly, routine fight. I was hopeless and begged him to put me out of my misery. The next day, we decided to "get it over with" and drove to a park where he asked me to marry him, finally and with absolutely no element of surprise. Keep in mind, this whole time I knew he wanted a 6 month engagement. But, I wanted a 2 year anniversary wedding date. So, as the leader and instigator of all, I chose the June 16th date against his reservations and decided to march on with a three month engagement.
Deeper issues would unfold over the course of premarital counseling of distrust and discontentment. And I remember so many nights leaving eager to do our “relationship homework”, but more so embarrassed when I thought about what our relationship looked like from the outside. We knew we had our work cut out for us. Our time was limited so we made a last attempt to get it right.
Throughout the course of our time together on the couch of this couple's house they made mention a time or two of this not having to lead to marriage. If we weren't ready, postponing or canceling was a very real option but most assuredly not one that I had considered or accepted in the slightest. I wrestled with God in these last stages. I didn't see change happening in my soon-to-be other half’s life. He still hadn't stepped into the role of leader and decision maker. I remember one night after counseling; I was wrecked by his lack of effort. I felt as if God reached down, held my face tenderly and asked me boldly, "If he never changed, if he never honored me spiritually- by leading me, honored me practically- by having a plan for our future, or honored me romantically- by pursuing me, would I still love him and chose to marry him?"
In my heart of hearts, I had desired a relationship redo. Obviously, it was flawed. But my answer was an unwavering yes. I loved him and I saw nothing but potential, and I decided on my floor that night in front of God, if that potential never came to fruition, I would still love and commit to a marriage to him. My theology said this could go two ways; we could be happily married or unhappily married. Divorce was not an option, nor was turning back because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was the one God had made to spend the rest of my life with. Or maybe it was pride saying I've fought too hard to get here. Looking back, I think maybe that was God's grace extending down a hand to pull me from the despair that would follow in the weeks to come.
I pressed forward.
He started talking, something prepared me for disaster. Maybe it was his tone, but I knew something wasn't right and I can only attempt to describe it in relation to one other experience in my life. When I was 15, I was a passenger in an awful car accident. I saw the accident unfold before me, I grabbed a hold of the seat in front of me and braced for impact. I watched out of my window as the line between ground and sky flipped round and round. It was silent and loud at the same time. I stared into the blurry distance and waited for it all to end. There was also a waking up experience, feeling so numb and out of it... wondering whether you are actually alive or dead. In the case with my fiancé, and with the mangled car I don't remember escaping the wreckage. I ended up behind a locked door crying and screaming, wailing so loud I struggled for air. He pleaded for my forgiveness and expressed his fear in losing me. I listened to his apology, his brokenness over his actions and how it had led us here. All I heard was a story of betrayal by everyone who knew and the embarrassment of everyone who would come to know.
The first night, I wept.
As angry as I was that he hadn't acted on his conviction sooner, I knew what he was saying was true. We weren’t ready to be married; it just seemed like the next step. I also knew, it was my hand that had forced the date. I hadn't trusted God's timing. I had shoved along our relationship based on my timing and will, not Gods. I was so eager to be married, that I willed everything to play out in fast forward; boyfriend, love, marriage… the faster, the better. I knew what was best for me and I put all my energy into making it happen. That landed me smack dab in the midst of a glorious disaster. I didn't even pretend to surrender my life to God, so He instead took it.
God's redeeming hand has reached into my story, painfully ripped out the pages and said,
Now, here... let me give it a try.
**updated 5/20/10**
At the time it felt as though I was hand and hand with God walking straight toward my heart’s desire, but then the road made a sudden and jagged turn away from what I longed for… what He promised. Our grip is tested as I try to continue the previous course. There is a soreness in my heart as the space between us grows. Our arms are now stretched to their full reach, I can feel the tightness in my whole body. I go limp. I surrender. He never lets go, His grip only tightens. I’m frustrated with Him. I cry out. Unable to look Him in the eye, instead I watch as the end to my fairy tale moves from forefront to side glance. He pulls me up, grabs me close and whispers, “Trust me”. There is a sternness in His voice that I cannot deny, yet His eyes are kind. It's as if they are saying.. I love you, I made you. I know what is best for you. Just walk with me.
For me, being dumped right before your wedding was a huge embarrassment. Now unavoidably to all who knew, I was damaged and wounded. To know me was to pity me. Whether this was the case or not, I felt like all eyes were on the broken Christian girl to see how she would respond. I’d like to think I rebounded well enough, I trust God now with a fierceness I had not known I was capable of.
I am on the verge of my one year “non wedding anniversary” and am happy to report I am in a great place. I realize now, that the end result of life is not to be married. I was looking to someone else for my joy. I had it all wrong, yet I would’ve gone down with the ship. I am thankful to a God who reached in and pulled me from the wreckage of what could’ve been a less than desirable marriage. I had done the wrong thing, but God was and is still faithful.
I am excited for the future. I have surrendered all efforts to rush into marriage recognizing it as the idol it was. Instead I am just enjoying my season of singleness. I have amazing friends, an adorable pup and a healthy obsession with traveling.
I am incredibly hopeful this story in progress will end with a ‘happily ever after’.
The title was shockingly already taken. They really do have a book for everything... and yes, I shamelessly purchased it.
It's a meaty story to be posted after this, that I will hopefully continue to work on... if you take the time to read it, I would love a word of encouragement.
Thank you.
The stress of planning a wedding began to build. Our 104 day engagement seemed an eternity after dating him for 2 years and a close friendship a year prior to that. I ended up taking a half day at work that Friday before our Tuesday ceremony. The plan being to work the whole day, but the pressure of having ribbons on vases glued and last minute table placement cards made I couldn't wait to get home. My desire was to finish these not-so-fun tasks so I could look forward to the weekend’s upcoming events. Saturday, my friends would be arriving from out of state and out of town. Surely it would sink in then and seem real. It had all been a blur up until this point. Engagement, counseling, spending money, spending so much money and now I was here. With only days to go, I would finally marry my best friend. I couldn't believe it, after 25 years of Satan's lies... "You're too much, you're not enough, way too emotional and totally unlovable". I had found a man who wanted to share his life with me. He loved me and in not much over 72 hours would pledge that love in front of 86 of our closest friends, family and God.
Or so I thought.
My fiancé was very honest of his anxiousness and had been since the beginning. Wise counsel told us this was normal. This meant he was taking it serious. He had been guarded our entire relationship which was more than frustrating at the time, but with a glance over my shoulder I was able to appreciate his caution. Now as an engaged couple I knew he had weighed the decision heavily to get married. I cherished his decision, because I knew how much thought he had put into it. He didn't throw around his love and he would never write checks of promises that he couldn't cash.
Little did I know, the days leading up to this moment for him looked completely different. As I was tanning, getting my nails done and pulling an all-nighter making our wedding slideshow he was meeting with counselors and wrestling with God over his upcoming commitment.
With less than four days away from what should've been one of the most joyful days of my life, he stood before me and instead completely wrecked my world. He looked me in the eyes and tried to explain that he would not be able to follow through on his commitment. I flashed to all the weddings I had ever been in or attended. I couldn't help but be angry at all the women in my life whose husbands showed up.
I was angry, I was hurt. I remember pleading with him to tell me he was kidding. I couldn't believe with any shred inside of me that the person in this world I loved the most, had crucified me on a stake. Alongside the pain, there was pride. Eventually my family, my friends, the wedding guests and anyone I had ever met (thanks to the technology of internet social networking) would all soon hear and believe the same lie I thought I had conquered. They would know I wasn't lovable or good enough.
I did a lot of crying. You would think eventually your tear ducts wouldn't be able to keep up with the production, but to my astonishment the tears did in fact, keep coming. I would try to make myself sleep, because you couldn't feel pain while doing so. Then I realized that each time I woke up, it was like awakening into a nightmare. Weighing the options, I chose to push aside sleep for a bit and live with the uncontrollable sobs.
This whole time, the one who had broken me, my now ex-fiancé, wouldn't let me push him aside. He had slipped in and out of my consciousness. And by nothing short of the grace of a God that I was furious with... day twoish, I got out of bed. I couldn't help but be intoxicated by the voice of my executioner. It helped to see that he, too, was broken. But nevertheless my sinful wish was for him to hurt more. I felt abandoned. I felt betrayed. He had with one swooping motion driven a sword into my heart, but I couldn't bare to have him be away from me. When he was near, I felt as if he held the controls to an IV in my arm slowly pumping peace into my veins.
God had cultivated such a strong desire inside of me to marry. I had read every book and watched every sermon on how to be a Godly wife. I began to mold myself in to a woman who would love her husband, serve him and follow him all the days of her life. My willingness to be embarrassingly upfront with the events that would follow, rest completely in the hope that God will have the complete Honor and Glory at the finish line of this all.
Date was not really a word in our relationship vocabulary, though I got many a grand IOUS. I must tell you that I have come to grips with the fact that many man do not have this trait and that I may or may not have watched one too many love stories unfold on a movie screen or too many epidsodes of The Bachelor. But, know that I felt like I was settling. I didn't trust that God had a better plan in store.
I hit many rock bottoms in this area. I didn't feel pursued, I didn't feel loved and I willed and wished for him to affirm me. I didn't ask much of him. It wasn't that I needed a helicopter ride and a private dinner for two at the top of the Grand Canyon, what I needed was a sunset and a love letter.
The love story I am about to unfold might fair normal to some, but it broke my heart because it is not what I had hoped for my life. It was forced and I wept from the depths of my heart many times over the story that had played out. My creativity and imagination was intentional about hiding the not so pretty details, call it a gift or a curse? Nonetheless it was no ones business that I begged him to love me. I said and felt it first and he did not return it so quickly. No one needed to know that I cried every day when he wasn't ready to be married as soon as I was. When he did eventually purchase the ring, I picked it out. I was there when he bought it. Three of the ugliest weeks of my life would follow. Each day hoping for a promise, but it never came. He dangled my happiness in his hands each day and each night came sorrow.
Finally on the day he had planned to propose we got in a huge but, in this season sadly, routine fight. I was hopeless and begged him to put me out of my misery. The next day, we decided to "get it over with" and drove to a park where he asked me to marry him, finally and with absolutely no element of surprise. Keep in mind, this whole time I knew he wanted a 6 month engagement. But, I wanted a 2 year anniversary wedding date. So, as the leader and instigator of all, I chose the June 16th date against his reservations and decided to march on with a three month engagement.
Deeper issues would unfold over the course of premarital counseling of distrust and discontentment. And I remember so many nights leaving eager to do our “relationship homework”, but more so embarrassed when I thought about what our relationship looked like from the outside. We knew we had our work cut out for us. Our time was limited so we made a last attempt to get it right.
Throughout the course of our time together on the couch of this couple's house they made mention a time or two of this not having to lead to marriage. If we weren't ready, postponing or canceling was a very real option but most assuredly not one that I had considered or accepted in the slightest. I wrestled with God in these last stages. I didn't see change happening in my soon-to-be other half’s life. He still hadn't stepped into the role of leader and decision maker. I remember one night after counseling; I was wrecked by his lack of effort. I felt as if God reached down, held my face tenderly and asked me boldly, "If he never changed, if he never honored me spiritually- by leading me, honored me practically- by having a plan for our future, or honored me romantically- by pursuing me, would I still love him and chose to marry him?"
In my heart of hearts, I had desired a relationship redo. Obviously, it was flawed. But my answer was an unwavering yes. I loved him and I saw nothing but potential, and I decided on my floor that night in front of God, if that potential never came to fruition, I would still love and commit to a marriage to him. My theology said this could go two ways; we could be happily married or unhappily married. Divorce was not an option, nor was turning back because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was the one God had made to spend the rest of my life with. Or maybe it was pride saying I've fought too hard to get here. Looking back, I think maybe that was God's grace extending down a hand to pull me from the despair that would follow in the weeks to come.
I pressed forward.
He started talking, something prepared me for disaster. Maybe it was his tone, but I knew something wasn't right and I can only attempt to describe it in relation to one other experience in my life. When I was 15, I was a passenger in an awful car accident. I saw the accident unfold before me, I grabbed a hold of the seat in front of me and braced for impact. I watched out of my window as the line between ground and sky flipped round and round. It was silent and loud at the same time. I stared into the blurry distance and waited for it all to end. There was also a waking up experience, feeling so numb and out of it... wondering whether you are actually alive or dead. In the case with my fiancé, and with the mangled car I don't remember escaping the wreckage. I ended up behind a locked door crying and screaming, wailing so loud I struggled for air. He pleaded for my forgiveness and expressed his fear in losing me. I listened to his apology, his brokenness over his actions and how it had led us here. All I heard was a story of betrayal by everyone who knew and the embarrassment of everyone who would come to know.
The first night, I wept.
As angry as I was that he hadn't acted on his conviction sooner, I knew what he was saying was true. We weren’t ready to be married; it just seemed like the next step. I also knew, it was my hand that had forced the date. I hadn't trusted God's timing. I had shoved along our relationship based on my timing and will, not Gods. I was so eager to be married, that I willed everything to play out in fast forward; boyfriend, love, marriage… the faster, the better. I knew what was best for me and I put all my energy into making it happen. That landed me smack dab in the midst of a glorious disaster. I didn't even pretend to surrender my life to God, so He instead took it.
God's redeeming hand has reached into my story, painfully ripped out the pages and said,
Now, here... let me give it a try.
**updated 5/20/10**
At the time it felt as though I was hand and hand with God walking straight toward my heart’s desire, but then the road made a sudden and jagged turn away from what I longed for… what He promised. Our grip is tested as I try to continue the previous course. There is a soreness in my heart as the space between us grows. Our arms are now stretched to their full reach, I can feel the tightness in my whole body. I go limp. I surrender. He never lets go, His grip only tightens. I’m frustrated with Him. I cry out. Unable to look Him in the eye, instead I watch as the end to my fairy tale moves from forefront to side glance. He pulls me up, grabs me close and whispers, “Trust me”. There is a sternness in His voice that I cannot deny, yet His eyes are kind. It's as if they are saying.. I love you, I made you. I know what is best for you. Just walk with me.
For me, being dumped right before your wedding was a huge embarrassment. Now unavoidably to all who knew, I was damaged and wounded. To know me was to pity me. Whether this was the case or not, I felt like all eyes were on the broken Christian girl to see how she would respond. I’d like to think I rebounded well enough, I trust God now with a fierceness I had not known I was capable of.
I am on the verge of my one year “non wedding anniversary” and am happy to report I am in a great place. I realize now, that the end result of life is not to be married. I was looking to someone else for my joy. I had it all wrong, yet I would’ve gone down with the ship. I am thankful to a God who reached in and pulled me from the wreckage of what could’ve been a less than desirable marriage. I had done the wrong thing, but God was and is still faithful.
I am excited for the future. I have surrendered all efforts to rush into marriage recognizing it as the idol it was. Instead I am just enjoying my season of singleness. I have amazing friends, an adorable pup and a healthy obsession with traveling.
I am incredibly hopeful this story in progress will end with a ‘happily ever after’.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
120404
I stand alone and scared in front of this overwhelming pile of rocks with a decision to make. I must get to the top of this mountain. Everything inside of me desires what awaits me at its peak. It calls to me. I lie awake at night dreaming of the day when I will finally come to rest where clouds meet rock.
I look to my left only to find what looks to be a million people clustered around a loading station. One by one the ski lift carries the people to the top. I do a quick calculation in my head. Tears come to surface as I come to the devastating realization that it could be months, even years before my turn would come up. I can't wait that long. Or more accurately, I DON'T WANT to wait that long.
There is one more alternative. I slowly roll my head to the left, hoping for another option than the one I know I am about to face. I wipe the water from my eyes, and stare up at the rockiest steepest mountain side I have ever seen. I wipe my eyes again, hoping that I am somehow dreaming. But the mountain side still stood strong before me. I walk to the base and look up. I take a deep breath and start climbing. First my right hand, then my left. I throw my foot up and find a sturdy rock to hold my weight. Before I realize it, I am well of the ground and on my way. At this rate I’ll be at the top in no time.
I start to laugh and silently mock the people below who are patiently waiting their turn. Then I glance at the top to see all the people basking in the happiness of their success. Scenes flash in my mind of different conversations. Their advice all rings the same. Ha, I laugh at them.
Hours go by and although I have managed to climb quite high, no matter how much distance I gain, I can never seem to get any closer to my destination. What started out as fun and harmless has turned into a complete physical and emotional struggle. I am awakened to the falseness of my delusion. I cling to the mountain as tightly as I held onto the lie that I would be able to do this alone. I think back to the moment I first looked at the long line. The tears then seemed like a trickle compared to the down pour that flowed over my cheeks like a waterfall.
My body trembled. I could go no further. My hands raw from the rocks; my legs were bloody. Everything from my hair to my toe nails ached as I let out a cry of defeat. Rocks start to slide under my fingers as I realize I am losing my grip. My fingers grasp the rock. I fight to find a ledge for my feet. No luck. This is it. I cry for help. No answer.
I glance up to the top one last time, as I exhale a silent goodbye. Goodbye to my hopes. Goodbye to my dreams. Goodbye to my happy ending. The pain in my heart greatens as I become conscious to the fact that I had brought all of this upon myself. I am seconds from a rocky doom all because I had been too impatient in this certain area of my life.
A surge of pain runs through my body as my ears recognize a very distinct sound. It was a familiar voice; a strong voice, yet ever so gentle. I could barely hear the words He spoke, but at the same time having never heard anything so clear. I remembered the voice from my dreams. This voice was the reason I was so in love with the mountain peak. I listened to the sounds of happiness. I heard the promises that awaited me. He filled my ears with the sweet song of passion. He had saved a place for me at the top, and all He asked of me was my trust.
“Just put your faith in me.” He whispered sweetly in my dreams. “I will give you all of this and so much more, my child. Be patient, your time will come.”
Reality sets in as my foot slips and I start to slide a little further down the side of the mountain. I push back the pain in a desperate search for that sound, His voice. What is He saying?
“Let go. Let go. My child, just let go.”
The crying is uncontrollable now. The pain is unbearable.
“I can’t.” I scream back.
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
I shut my eyes and ears to the world as I play over in my head our conversation. I swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath, my body goes limp.
I let go.
I am eerily relaxed as I fall. Everything about this moment is peaceful. For the first time all day everything seemed right. I am free only to be reminded that in a few seconds I would come crashing back down to the place where this whole adventure had started; although, my condition would be far worse then when I had begun. I stopped breathing as I waited for impact. After some time had gone by I reopened my eyes to investigate. I couldn’t see where I was. I wasn’t falling anymore. I was standing upright. Everything was blurry. My hands were clean, not a scratch to be seen. My body no longer ached. I felt rejuvenated. Maybe I am dead, I thought briefly.
I walked forward through the clouds. I came to an edge. No, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t be standing on the exact mountain that I had just fallen from. But I was. Instant tears covered my eyes. I slowly regained consciousness, and immediately the questions flooded my head. What’s going on? What happened? How did I get here?
Then I heard Him speak.
“My child, I caught you in my hands and I carried you to the top just like I have promised. There is nothing good I would hold from you. I will fill every desire of your heart. But, it will be in my perfect timing. The top was in your reach all along. All you had to do was let go.”
I look to my left only to find what looks to be a million people clustered around a loading station. One by one the ski lift carries the people to the top. I do a quick calculation in my head. Tears come to surface as I come to the devastating realization that it could be months, even years before my turn would come up. I can't wait that long. Or more accurately, I DON'T WANT to wait that long.
There is one more alternative. I slowly roll my head to the left, hoping for another option than the one I know I am about to face. I wipe the water from my eyes, and stare up at the rockiest steepest mountain side I have ever seen. I wipe my eyes again, hoping that I am somehow dreaming. But the mountain side still stood strong before me. I walk to the base and look up. I take a deep breath and start climbing. First my right hand, then my left. I throw my foot up and find a sturdy rock to hold my weight. Before I realize it, I am well of the ground and on my way. At this rate I’ll be at the top in no time.
I start to laugh and silently mock the people below who are patiently waiting their turn. Then I glance at the top to see all the people basking in the happiness of their success. Scenes flash in my mind of different conversations. Their advice all rings the same. Ha, I laugh at them.
Hours go by and although I have managed to climb quite high, no matter how much distance I gain, I can never seem to get any closer to my destination. What started out as fun and harmless has turned into a complete physical and emotional struggle. I am awakened to the falseness of my delusion. I cling to the mountain as tightly as I held onto the lie that I would be able to do this alone. I think back to the moment I first looked at the long line. The tears then seemed like a trickle compared to the down pour that flowed over my cheeks like a waterfall.
My body trembled. I could go no further. My hands raw from the rocks; my legs were bloody. Everything from my hair to my toe nails ached as I let out a cry of defeat. Rocks start to slide under my fingers as I realize I am losing my grip. My fingers grasp the rock. I fight to find a ledge for my feet. No luck. This is it. I cry for help. No answer.
I glance up to the top one last time, as I exhale a silent goodbye. Goodbye to my hopes. Goodbye to my dreams. Goodbye to my happy ending. The pain in my heart greatens as I become conscious to the fact that I had brought all of this upon myself. I am seconds from a rocky doom all because I had been too impatient in this certain area of my life.
A surge of pain runs through my body as my ears recognize a very distinct sound. It was a familiar voice; a strong voice, yet ever so gentle. I could barely hear the words He spoke, but at the same time having never heard anything so clear. I remembered the voice from my dreams. This voice was the reason I was so in love with the mountain peak. I listened to the sounds of happiness. I heard the promises that awaited me. He filled my ears with the sweet song of passion. He had saved a place for me at the top, and all He asked of me was my trust.
“Just put your faith in me.” He whispered sweetly in my dreams. “I will give you all of this and so much more, my child. Be patient, your time will come.”
Reality sets in as my foot slips and I start to slide a little further down the side of the mountain. I push back the pain in a desperate search for that sound, His voice. What is He saying?
“Let go. Let go. My child, just let go.”
The crying is uncontrollable now. The pain is unbearable.
“I can’t.” I scream back.
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
I shut my eyes and ears to the world as I play over in my head our conversation. I swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath, my body goes limp.
I let go.
I am eerily relaxed as I fall. Everything about this moment is peaceful. For the first time all day everything seemed right. I am free only to be reminded that in a few seconds I would come crashing back down to the place where this whole adventure had started; although, my condition would be far worse then when I had begun. I stopped breathing as I waited for impact. After some time had gone by I reopened my eyes to investigate. I couldn’t see where I was. I wasn’t falling anymore. I was standing upright. Everything was blurry. My hands were clean, not a scratch to be seen. My body no longer ached. I felt rejuvenated. Maybe I am dead, I thought briefly.
I walked forward through the clouds. I came to an edge. No, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t be standing on the exact mountain that I had just fallen from. But I was. Instant tears covered my eyes. I slowly regained consciousness, and immediately the questions flooded my head. What’s going on? What happened? How did I get here?
Then I heard Him speak.
“My child, I caught you in my hands and I carried you to the top just like I have promised. There is nothing good I would hold from you. I will fill every desire of your heart. But, it will be in my perfect timing. The top was in your reach all along. All you had to do was let go.”
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
pray often.
what a friend we have in Jesus
all our sins and griefs to bear
what a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer
oh what peace we often forfeit
oh what needless pain we bear
all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer
all our sins and griefs to bear
what a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer
oh what peace we often forfeit
oh what needless pain we bear
all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Back to blog.
I haven't written in a year. That makes me sad. This has been the best year of my life (so far). It pains me to think I didn't give it proper documentation.
I've been on a spiritual rollercoaster, but not so much the loops and plummets, more like being on a relaxing incline, strapped in listening to the slow tick of my ascent.
I am very excited even thinking of grabbing a hold of my recent revelations and wrestling them down into words to share with others. I pray that God grants me the ability to illuminate each story with the same passion I had when I first stumbled upon His character, His love, His overall goodness, grace and His commands for my life.
I've been on a spiritual rollercoaster, but not so much the loops and plummets, more like being on a relaxing incline, strapped in listening to the slow tick of my ascent.
I am very excited even thinking of grabbing a hold of my recent revelations and wrestling them down into words to share with others. I pray that God grants me the ability to illuminate each story with the same passion I had when I first stumbled upon His character, His love, His overall goodness, grace and His commands for my life.
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