If you haven't noticed yet, it's fall. Fall is a beautiful season, and the essence of the season is change. Our nation's leaders change. Students transition from vacation back to their busy, studying lives. People exchange their summer sandals for scarves and gloves. But the most noticeable change is in nature. Everyone raves about the brilliant colors of the leaves. The air is cool and crisp. Occasional rain makes everything smell clean.
Every year around this time, I am reminded of the changes that have taken place in my life. In particular, I remember the single most significant change- the one that took place five years ago today. Like the leaves on the trees, I may have appeared to be full of life and color. But in reality, I was dying. In fact, I was already dead. I trust that if you know me at all, then you know what change I am referring to. Five years ago I became a new creation, raised from spiritual deadness to vibrant new life in Christ Jesus.
Last year, I wrote a note on Facebook that told my story of redemption. The positive feedback I received regarding that post inspired me to start this blog. I would love to replicate the effects of that first note in this blog entry, but as a writer, I fear redundancy. So instead, let me take you on a little journey through my five years of being a Christ-follower. Hopefully you will praise God, as I do, when you hear of how God is continually making me new, even five years later.
I was just 15 years old when I first met Jesus. He certainly found me in a sorry condition, as I was looking for love and affirmation in all the wrong places. Fortunately, the Spirit of God living in me was really hacking away at the major sins in my life. So much so, in fact, that my family disbelieved it at first. "Your just going through a phase," they told me. After months and eventually years of steadiness in my character, I hope that they have found that it wasn't just a phase- that it was actually the miraculous grace of God in my life. I hope that they know the reason I am a better daughter and sister is only because of Jesus.
Jesus led me through some dark places that first year. Having to walk away from friendships and old habits was hard. At times I feared I was losing myself. But now I see that this was only the putting off the old so that I could put on the new. I also faced the criticism of some extended family members. It was all very confusing that some people could be so upset by a change in my life that I considered the best thing to ever happen to me!
It was also during this first year that God blessed me with a beautiful friend and sister in Christ. I have never had a more faithful friend, and I am blessed that we are still friends today. It has been an honor to grow up in the faith with her, and I only hope she knows how much her friendship and prayers mean to me.
My most vivid memories come from that first year, but the four that followed were certainly not without their share of blessings. It was during those years that I was baptized, went on my first missions trips, and shared my testimony with my entire church family (and a few strangers). There were times of spiritual growth and times of dry faith. Jesus brought me through events that were painful and even heart-breaking.
As a sophomore in high school, I suffered the cruel words of mean girls and gossipers. In my junior year, I entered a romantic relationship that I would ultimately have the difficult task of ending. By far the most difficult season of these years were the months surrounding the church split that presented me with my first crisis of the faith. It is difficult for me to share the extent to which these things affected me. What I can tell you is this: I've endured many tearful nights of crying out to my heavenly Father.
With all that said, I don't want to downplay the wonderful experiences and things I was learning those years. I learned about true kingdom service on mission trips. I learned how to defend my beliefs in youth group. I learned about the injustice of abortion. I learned about debate, politics and world history. I performed on stage, made sandwiches for pay, shared my faith, gave speeches, and so many other things. Sometimes I wonder how I fit it all in!
Which brings me to this past year. I've grown so much my first year in college. Pursuing my education at MBI, making new friends, and doing Christian ministry in the great city of Chicago have brought me so much joy! I've wrestled through tough theological issues (and continue to do so). I've said tearful goodbyes to wonderful roommates. I've struggled to be content in my singleness. I've worked through a hard and lonely summer. I've become a pro-life activist. And most significantly, I've come to really know what it means to love the person of Jesus. In short, I've learned and lived more than I thought was possible.
And here I am today. Five years later. A 20 year old woman who has been changed by Jesus, being made more like him every year. Looking back, I am grateful for how God has grown and matured me. Looking forward, I am joyful that I have nowhere else to go but further up and further in for love of my King!
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
A Test I Should Have Studied For
I've only been back at school for one week, and I already have enough reading assignments to fill an encyclopedia. I actually really love school. I like attending lectures, doing projects, and I even enjoy writing papers :) However, one part of school I do not enjoy is tests and studying for them. Studying for tests is time consuming and stressful. Even if I've studied for a few hours, I still have doubts as to whether I'm prepared enough. The actual act of taking a test, on the other hand, can be either rewarding or terrifying. I love taking tests when I'm confident in my answers. It is a great feeling to finish a test and be able to say that there wasn't a single question that caught me off guard. On the flip side, taking a test where the questions could almost be a different language fills me with terrible feelings. I'm ashamed that I didn't invest enough time into my studies, and I'm afraid of the consequences that this test score will bring to my overall grade.
This morning I was alarmed to find that I had been handed a test that I had not properly studied for.
If you've read my most recent entry, you know that I recently had back surgery. I am very grateful to the Lord and pleased to report that my recovery has gone fairly smoothly. The recovery was not without pain, and there were certainly moments of discouragement. But with every morning, I find that I am more healed than the day before! This morning, however, as I was checking my progress, I found the test I mentioned above in the form of another little bump. Fortunately, it was not in the same place as the last one, but there was a bump nonetheless.
My reaction to this discovery proves that I had not properly studied for this test. At first, I felt despair that I might have to go through the pain of surgery again. And then I did the most absurd thing a Christian could ever do. I got a little angry at God. Now you might be surprised to find that I am not one of those Christians who says its okay to be mad at God every once in awhile. Within my first month of being a Christian, I heard a message at a retreat that explained that anger at God is not justifiable. It's not that God can't handle our being angry at Him. We know that He can from the story of Job in the Old Testament. Anger at God is not justifiable because we have no legitimate reason to be angry at Him.
If I had prepared for this test, this new physical trial, I would have responded differently. I would have acknowledged straightaway that I am not entitled to perfect health. In my sinful condition, what I am entitled to is the plague! It is only by God's grace in my life that I have been so free of illness and deformity. If God's Word had been more engrained in my heart, I would have remembered that I am commanded (and have reason) to rejoice always!
Jesus sacrificed everything for me. A King took the punishment I deserved. How outrageous of me to be angry at Him, even if only for a moment. Fortunately, Jesus is full of mercy, and He has extended it to me once again today. Along with my intentions of repentance, I pray for the wisdom to take this next test. I pray that my response to this trial will ultimately bring fame to my King.
This morning I was alarmed to find that I had been handed a test that I had not properly studied for.
If you've read my most recent entry, you know that I recently had back surgery. I am very grateful to the Lord and pleased to report that my recovery has gone fairly smoothly. The recovery was not without pain, and there were certainly moments of discouragement. But with every morning, I find that I am more healed than the day before! This morning, however, as I was checking my progress, I found the test I mentioned above in the form of another little bump. Fortunately, it was not in the same place as the last one, but there was a bump nonetheless.
My reaction to this discovery proves that I had not properly studied for this test. At first, I felt despair that I might have to go through the pain of surgery again. And then I did the most absurd thing a Christian could ever do. I got a little angry at God. Now you might be surprised to find that I am not one of those Christians who says its okay to be mad at God every once in awhile. Within my first month of being a Christian, I heard a message at a retreat that explained that anger at God is not justifiable. It's not that God can't handle our being angry at Him. We know that He can from the story of Job in the Old Testament. Anger at God is not justifiable because we have no legitimate reason to be angry at Him.
If I had prepared for this test, this new physical trial, I would have responded differently. I would have acknowledged straightaway that I am not entitled to perfect health. In my sinful condition, what I am entitled to is the plague! It is only by God's grace in my life that I have been so free of illness and deformity. If God's Word had been more engrained in my heart, I would have remembered that I am commanded (and have reason) to rejoice always!
Jesus sacrificed everything for me. A King took the punishment I deserved. How outrageous of me to be angry at Him, even if only for a moment. Fortunately, Jesus is full of mercy, and He has extended it to me once again today. Along with my intentions of repentance, I pray for the wisdom to take this next test. I pray that my response to this trial will ultimately bring fame to my King.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Facing Setbacks, Failures, and Fears
As my days back home for the summer are drawing to a close, I'm suddenly faced with situations that have forced me to consider who I really have faith in. Looking back on this summer, I see goals left unaccomplished. I have a dozen or so reasons I could rattle off to explain why I didn't see those goals through, but if I'm honest with myself, I know better. I didn't accomplish some of my goals for purely selfish reasons, and I didn't seek the Lord first with those goals. Do you know what that means for me? It means I failed. Do you know what failure does? It hurts my pride. I'm embarrassed when I think about all the good I could have done for the kingdom of God while home this summer but failed to do so for selfish reasons. But what is even more embarrassing is the fact that I acted as though I could accomplish those things without the help of the God I was trying to honor. I forgot the most basic of lessons a young Christian like me learns- that I can do nothing of my own strength. I need the strength and power of God to accomplish great things for His glory, but if I do not ask, I will not receive (John 16:24). Failures may be painful for my pride, but when that pain becomes humility before God, I find that it is true that His power is made perfect when I am weak.
Though I have experienced some failures this summer, I would not say all is lost. On the contrary, I learned that true service can be accomplished when I find strength in my King. Perhaps you read about my observations on the Justice Ride, but you didn't read about how that week was for me emotionally. Every morning before our group would go to the public squares to do outreach, I was wracked with fear. I'm not even exaggerating there. I honestly wanted to double over and retch one morning. But every morning, I would pray for the strength of God to overcome my fear. And every day my prayer was answered. I even experienced the joy promised in the verse I cited above. "Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive,and your joy will be complete" (John 16:24).
So I've actually learned a lot this summer about how to respond to setbacks, failures, and fears. But tonight, my heart is heavy with some of these same problems.
I am returning to school this fall with a mission: start a pro-life activism student group. Planning was going great for awhile, and I was excited about working hard on something I am really passionate about. But when I found that there would almost certainly be opposition to the proposed group, my faith faltered. "Oh. I guess this isn't going to happen then," I thought for a few moments. Fortunately, it was truly only a few moments before I realized the next step I needed to take: prayer. I poured out my heart before God about the situation and entrusted it to His care. And now I am more ready than before to honor and obey God through this "controversial" endeavor!
And now for the final and yet most prominent concern on my mind tonight. I am very afraid about the surgery I am having on my back tomorrow morning. I'm worried about complications in surgery. I'm worried about recovery. I'm worried about returning to school so soon after my surgery. I admit it! I'm really scared! However, I am choosing right now to give those fears over to the One who tells me "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" (Isaiah 41:10).
I trust that no matter what happens tomorrow, my God will strengthen and help me. After all, my King has never failed me yet.
Though I have experienced some failures this summer, I would not say all is lost. On the contrary, I learned that true service can be accomplished when I find strength in my King. Perhaps you read about my observations on the Justice Ride, but you didn't read about how that week was for me emotionally. Every morning before our group would go to the public squares to do outreach, I was wracked with fear. I'm not even exaggerating there. I honestly wanted to double over and retch one morning. But every morning, I would pray for the strength of God to overcome my fear. And every day my prayer was answered. I even experienced the joy promised in the verse I cited above. "Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive,and your joy will be complete" (John 16:24).
So I've actually learned a lot this summer about how to respond to setbacks, failures, and fears. But tonight, my heart is heavy with some of these same problems.
I am returning to school this fall with a mission: start a pro-life activism student group. Planning was going great for awhile, and I was excited about working hard on something I am really passionate about. But when I found that there would almost certainly be opposition to the proposed group, my faith faltered. "Oh. I guess this isn't going to happen then," I thought for a few moments. Fortunately, it was truly only a few moments before I realized the next step I needed to take: prayer. I poured out my heart before God about the situation and entrusted it to His care. And now I am more ready than before to honor and obey God through this "controversial" endeavor!
And now for the final and yet most prominent concern on my mind tonight. I am very afraid about the surgery I am having on my back tomorrow morning. I'm worried about complications in surgery. I'm worried about recovery. I'm worried about returning to school so soon after my surgery. I admit it! I'm really scared! However, I am choosing right now to give those fears over to the One who tells me "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" (Isaiah 41:10).
I trust that no matter what happens tomorrow, my God will strengthen and help me. After all, my King has never failed me yet.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
The War with Victims Ignored
This week I traveled for five days through five major cities of the midwest with a group of young activists. The pro-life organization, Created Equal, coordinated this trip and called it a Justice Ride. Named after the Freedom Rides of the Civil Rights movement, our tour sought to expose the injustice of abortion to a country that prides itself in its rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Sadly, this very nation has denied an entire generation of its right to life. More than 50 million people have been killed, and yet very few have ever seen the victims. The Justice Riders set up signs in public squares displaying the graphic nature of abortion and sought to engage passersby in conversations about the topic. I learned so much through the Justice Ride, and more posts will likely come about what I've learned. But for the sake of space and the desire to be concise, I'll limit my discussion in this post to what I've learned about the different reactions people have at the sight of aborted children.
Anger. Some people are filled with rage at the sight of the graphic nature of abortion. Some express their anger by attacking pro-lifers with hateful words. Some knock down signs. Others make offensive gestures. It is impossible to know for sure the reason for their anger, but it is possible to make a guess.
My best guess is that they feel guilt. Whether these angry people have participated in an abortion or not, I believe that a certain natural feeling is triggered at the sight of extreme injustice. This natural feeling is guilt. Pictures of dismembered children would make anyone feel angry. If you saw a picture on the news of a dismembered toddler, you would probably become angry. You would say something like, "Who could do something so cruel to such an innocent child?!" It seems reasonable to conclude then that the reason why someone would get angry at pictures of aborted children is because they know the answer to that question. Who could do something so cruel to such an innocent unborn child? Our nation. The people of this country have allowed this barbaric practice to go on behind closed doors for almost forty years. We as a nation like to believe that we are for freedom and equality and justice, but when its inhabitants are confronted with pictures that seem to suggest the opposite, they are forced to recognize their guilt.
You may wonder why I didn't label this section "guilt", but I did this for a reason. While I believe that guilt is the root the anger grows from, I am sure that the woman who screamed at me that I was a stupid girl was not aware that she was doing so out of guilt. Unfortunately, our generation has become skilled at suppressing feelings of guilt. It is much more pleasant to believe that you are a generally good person than to admit that you have serious flaws. It is easier to persuade yourself that you were right for hurting another person because of the circumstances rather than apologize for the pain you've caused. Similarly, the people of our nation have suppressed their guilt for almost forty years. We are guilty of the blood of innocent children, and we don't like it at all.
Sadness. This appropriate response is one that occurred less often than I would have hoped. However, when it did occur, I dove right in to start a conversation. It is easier to talk rationally with a person that still has even a fragment of his or her conscience in working order. Moral sensitivity is key to preserving the life of the preborn baby. If the sight of a dead child doesn't move you to sadness, think about what that says about the condition of your heart.
Apathy. This response is the worst of them all, and it was the most popular response of the day. Some consciences have been so dulled that the pictures didn't even move them to anger. Many people walked past our displays without even a glance. Far more worse off are those who mock the death of innocents. When I asked one young man what his thoughts were on the photos, he retorted with a grin, "I think they are hilarious." It is tempting to believe that such a person is too far gone in moral decline. After all, if one is able to laugh at the sight of a dead child, what else could that person be capable of? However, it is in moments like those that I am reminded that only my King can lift the dark veil that covers the eyes of such people. But if they are unwilling to be changed, the veil will only become heavier and darker with time. As a Christian woman, I was especially convicted this week to pray that the souls shrouded in darkness would come into the light.
It is quite possible that I have missed some of the other reactions, but I won't worry myself with that. The only thing I worry about is the person who reads this post and responds in apathy. There is no response more tragic.
While I learned a great deal about how to speak with people who think differently than me and how to remain calm in moments of fear or intimidation, I learned most about the nature of the times we live in. And what I've discovered has only filled me with more zeal for the movement I have just become a part of. In a time when apathy and anger are the fuel for the war being waged on unborn children, I know that I must take my position in the ranks that defend the weak and the fatherless. I will not stop fighting until justice is restored in our nation. A King is leading this battle, and His servants must follow Him to attain the victory.
Anger. Some people are filled with rage at the sight of the graphic nature of abortion. Some express their anger by attacking pro-lifers with hateful words. Some knock down signs. Others make offensive gestures. It is impossible to know for sure the reason for their anger, but it is possible to make a guess.
My best guess is that they feel guilt. Whether these angry people have participated in an abortion or not, I believe that a certain natural feeling is triggered at the sight of extreme injustice. This natural feeling is guilt. Pictures of dismembered children would make anyone feel angry. If you saw a picture on the news of a dismembered toddler, you would probably become angry. You would say something like, "Who could do something so cruel to such an innocent child?!" It seems reasonable to conclude then that the reason why someone would get angry at pictures of aborted children is because they know the answer to that question. Who could do something so cruel to such an innocent unborn child? Our nation. The people of this country have allowed this barbaric practice to go on behind closed doors for almost forty years. We as a nation like to believe that we are for freedom and equality and justice, but when its inhabitants are confronted with pictures that seem to suggest the opposite, they are forced to recognize their guilt.
You may wonder why I didn't label this section "guilt", but I did this for a reason. While I believe that guilt is the root the anger grows from, I am sure that the woman who screamed at me that I was a stupid girl was not aware that she was doing so out of guilt. Unfortunately, our generation has become skilled at suppressing feelings of guilt. It is much more pleasant to believe that you are a generally good person than to admit that you have serious flaws. It is easier to persuade yourself that you were right for hurting another person because of the circumstances rather than apologize for the pain you've caused. Similarly, the people of our nation have suppressed their guilt for almost forty years. We are guilty of the blood of innocent children, and we don't like it at all.
Sadness. This appropriate response is one that occurred less often than I would have hoped. However, when it did occur, I dove right in to start a conversation. It is easier to talk rationally with a person that still has even a fragment of his or her conscience in working order. Moral sensitivity is key to preserving the life of the preborn baby. If the sight of a dead child doesn't move you to sadness, think about what that says about the condition of your heart.
Apathy. This response is the worst of them all, and it was the most popular response of the day. Some consciences have been so dulled that the pictures didn't even move them to anger. Many people walked past our displays without even a glance. Far more worse off are those who mock the death of innocents. When I asked one young man what his thoughts were on the photos, he retorted with a grin, "I think they are hilarious." It is tempting to believe that such a person is too far gone in moral decline. After all, if one is able to laugh at the sight of a dead child, what else could that person be capable of? However, it is in moments like those that I am reminded that only my King can lift the dark veil that covers the eyes of such people. But if they are unwilling to be changed, the veil will only become heavier and darker with time. As a Christian woman, I was especially convicted this week to pray that the souls shrouded in darkness would come into the light.
It is quite possible that I have missed some of the other reactions, but I won't worry myself with that. The only thing I worry about is the person who reads this post and responds in apathy. There is no response more tragic.
While I learned a great deal about how to speak with people who think differently than me and how to remain calm in moments of fear or intimidation, I learned most about the nature of the times we live in. And what I've discovered has only filled me with more zeal for the movement I have just become a part of. In a time when apathy and anger are the fuel for the war being waged on unborn children, I know that I must take my position in the ranks that defend the weak and the fatherless. I will not stop fighting until justice is restored in our nation. A King is leading this battle, and His servants must follow Him to attain the victory.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
You can have all this world...
How many hymns, sermons, and Bible versus does it take to remind Andrea that this world will never satisfy her? Apparently a lot, because after recently hearing the hymn "Give Me Jesus" I find myself taken aback yet again. Accompanied by beautiful piano and violin, the hymn is three verses with a short refrain in between each one. Each verse describes specific times a person experiences in life, and the refrain always begs for the one thing that is needed most at each of those times. The lyrics of the song are simple but worth sharing.
"In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus." (verse 1)
"When I am alone, give me Jesus." (verse 2)
"When I come to die, give me Jesus." (verse 3)
"Give me Jesus! You can have all this world, but give me Jesus." (refrain)
Here is the link for the song, so please check it out if you haven't heard it yet!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rZ8k9m2hwo
Now when I first heard this song, I was moved by the beautiful scene the song describes: a man asking for Jesus at common yet often desperate times. Mornings, times of loneliness, and the hour of death are common to all people. Yet they are the times when men and women find themselves most vulnerable to feelings of despair. Have you ever woken up in the morning only to vehemently wish to go back to sleep because you don't think you have the strength to get through the day? I have. Have you ever been alone with your thoughts only to find that you are not the man or woman you had hoped you would be? I have. Do you ever fear death? I'll admit, sometimes I do.
I've just described my first reaction to the song. I have had three reactions total, and I'd like to share all three with you. So my first reaction was that I truly related to the song. The second was a less pleasant reaction: shame.
When was the last time I woke up and wanted more of Jesus? Thinking back to times of loneliness, the first person I call on is usually a friend, not Jesus. And when I fear death, I am obviously in a period of doubt (however brief) since my faith in Jesus should cast out all fear of death. Ugh. Just when I was beginning to like this song, I realized that the only time I can listen to it without feeling guilty is when I am the perfectly spiritual person that I know I will never be.
And then this morning, when I was reading from C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity, I learned (not for the first time I'm sure) that Christian love is unique. For the Christian, love is not merely having feelings of affection for a person, or for God for that matter. C.S. Lewis explains it this way:
"Nobody can always have devout feelings: and even if we could, feelings are not what God principally cares about. Christian Love, either towards God or towards man, is an affair of the will."
Woohoo! The song takes on new meaning for the third time. There was more nuance to the words, "Give me Jesus," than I had thought originally. The plea could be rephrased, "Give me Jesus, the only one who can comfort me in this moment." Comfort is a feeling, and Jesus does bring comfort to desperate souls. But wait! There's more. The very fact that the songwriter asks for the comfort of Jesus reveals that he is in need of it. Why ask for Jesus in times of loneliness if despair will never strike you? Why ask for Him in the morning if He is naturally the first thing you desire?
I don't have to feel ashamed because I can't muster up feelings of love for Jesus in the morning when I wake up. Feelings come and go, but loving God is a choice. It is an act of the will. That is why when I ask God for more Jesus, He will never deny my request.
Infinitely purer than my love for Jesus is His love for me. That is why I can declare with the hymn writer,
You can have all this world, but give me Jesus!
"In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus." (verse 1)
"When I am alone, give me Jesus." (verse 2)
"When I come to die, give me Jesus." (verse 3)
"Give me Jesus! You can have all this world, but give me Jesus." (refrain)
Here is the link for the song, so please check it out if you haven't heard it yet!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rZ8k9m2hwo
Now when I first heard this song, I was moved by the beautiful scene the song describes: a man asking for Jesus at common yet often desperate times. Mornings, times of loneliness, and the hour of death are common to all people. Yet they are the times when men and women find themselves most vulnerable to feelings of despair. Have you ever woken up in the morning only to vehemently wish to go back to sleep because you don't think you have the strength to get through the day? I have. Have you ever been alone with your thoughts only to find that you are not the man or woman you had hoped you would be? I have. Do you ever fear death? I'll admit, sometimes I do.
I've just described my first reaction to the song. I have had three reactions total, and I'd like to share all three with you. So my first reaction was that I truly related to the song. The second was a less pleasant reaction: shame.
When was the last time I woke up and wanted more of Jesus? Thinking back to times of loneliness, the first person I call on is usually a friend, not Jesus. And when I fear death, I am obviously in a period of doubt (however brief) since my faith in Jesus should cast out all fear of death. Ugh. Just when I was beginning to like this song, I realized that the only time I can listen to it without feeling guilty is when I am the perfectly spiritual person that I know I will never be.
And then this morning, when I was reading from C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity, I learned (not for the first time I'm sure) that Christian love is unique. For the Christian, love is not merely having feelings of affection for a person, or for God for that matter. C.S. Lewis explains it this way:
"Nobody can always have devout feelings: and even if we could, feelings are not what God principally cares about. Christian Love, either towards God or towards man, is an affair of the will."
Woohoo! The song takes on new meaning for the third time. There was more nuance to the words, "Give me Jesus," than I had thought originally. The plea could be rephrased, "Give me Jesus, the only one who can comfort me in this moment." Comfort is a feeling, and Jesus does bring comfort to desperate souls. But wait! There's more. The very fact that the songwriter asks for the comfort of Jesus reveals that he is in need of it. Why ask for Jesus in times of loneliness if despair will never strike you? Why ask for Him in the morning if He is naturally the first thing you desire?
I don't have to feel ashamed because I can't muster up feelings of love for Jesus in the morning when I wake up. Feelings come and go, but loving God is a choice. It is an act of the will. That is why when I ask God for more Jesus, He will never deny my request.
Infinitely purer than my love for Jesus is His love for me. That is why I can declare with the hymn writer,
You can have all this world, but give me Jesus!
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Honestly, this is harder than I thought.
In my first entry I promised to be honest in these posts. And I'm about to give you an honest truth. I haven't been writing much lately because I'm in a bad mood. I'm not an artist in the typical sense, but I like to think of writing as a work of art. I prefer my "artwork" to be uplifting, and lately I haven't had much uplifting things to say. I don't know whether that is because the transition back home for the summer has been difficult or because I have not been casting my cares at the feet of Jesus (its probably a combination of the two), but I can't seem to shake this feeling of being weighed down. I'm going to vent for a bit and then probably hit the backspace button A LOT, but here is why I haven't been in the best mood lately.
I'm single, and I know it. I don't really need everyone and their mother reminding me. As if its not hard enough just wanting to be in a relationship. Yes, my standards are pretty dang high. I know that. I'm more than okay with that. But it would be nice if people would be more encouraging and less underhandedly reminding me that I'm not in a relationship.
I'm not being heard. What started out as gentle reasoning has turned into all-out shouting matches. Is it really my fault that I'm losing patience with each passing day? Are my threats really empty? Do I mean it when I say I won't come back? Are my tears selfish? Is there really no solution? I don't know whether to resolve or keep fighting.
I feel lonely. Those words feel foreign even to write. I haven't often felt lonely in my life. And the reason why I feel lonely isn't even because there aren't people around who care about me. I feel lonely because all I can see is three more months of being home or at work in the morning and at work at night. Being at home isn't exactly restful and neither is work obviously. I knew that this summer was going to be one mainly for saving money to go back to school. But it is turing out to be harder than I thought.
Not very uplifting right? I guess thats just the way it is sometimes. And as I write all this, I remember a meeting I had just before leaving school. A very godly woman reminded me to cast everything at the feet of my King this summer. And to be honest, I haven't done that at all. So here is the reality to remember when you read any of my entries: I don't ever really have it all together. Especially right now. I'm trying to carry a weight that I can't carry, and I know what I have to do. I know that Jesus will carry this burdened feeling for me. I haven't surrendered that yet, but I know better. My King will lift me back up. The only question is when.
I'm single, and I know it. I don't really need everyone and their mother reminding me. As if its not hard enough just wanting to be in a relationship. Yes, my standards are pretty dang high. I know that. I'm more than okay with that. But it would be nice if people would be more encouraging and less underhandedly reminding me that I'm not in a relationship.
I'm not being heard. What started out as gentle reasoning has turned into all-out shouting matches. Is it really my fault that I'm losing patience with each passing day? Are my threats really empty? Do I mean it when I say I won't come back? Are my tears selfish? Is there really no solution? I don't know whether to resolve or keep fighting.
I feel lonely. Those words feel foreign even to write. I haven't often felt lonely in my life. And the reason why I feel lonely isn't even because there aren't people around who care about me. I feel lonely because all I can see is three more months of being home or at work in the morning and at work at night. Being at home isn't exactly restful and neither is work obviously. I knew that this summer was going to be one mainly for saving money to go back to school. But it is turing out to be harder than I thought.
Not very uplifting right? I guess thats just the way it is sometimes. And as I write all this, I remember a meeting I had just before leaving school. A very godly woman reminded me to cast everything at the feet of my King this summer. And to be honest, I haven't done that at all. So here is the reality to remember when you read any of my entries: I don't ever really have it all together. Especially right now. I'm trying to carry a weight that I can't carry, and I know what I have to do. I know that Jesus will carry this burdened feeling for me. I haven't surrendered that yet, but I know better. My King will lift me back up. The only question is when.
Friday, May 4, 2012
A Better Country
For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to break free from the ordinary and be my own person. For years when I was a child, I wanted nothing more than to live in New York City one day. I imagined that life would be more thrilling there. Everything about the city seemed glamorous and idyllic. It seems almost odd now, but even back then I longed for independence. As I grew up, the dream changed but the principle behind the dream stayed the same. New York was no longer the only place I could see myself. I felt drawn to places like China, Romania, South America, even New Mexico! As you have probably deduced already, these places have virtually nothing in common. The one thing they do have in common is that they are utterly different than anything I've ever known. Why is it that I have always wanted to go places that are so unfamiliar to a small-town girl like me? I'd like to explore that question in this blog.
How do you explain the unquenchable desire of a little girl to go to unknown places where she can be free and independent? It is reasonable to say that she dreamed of a life better than the one she knew. Please don't misunderstand that statement. I was not and am not an escapist. My desire for going elsewhere was never motivated by the need to escape a harsh reality. Rather, I believe my desire was motivated by a sense of adventure. Surely there were more adventures to be had in NYC than in Celina, right? But now another question remains; where did this desire for adventure come from? Not everyone wants to live in unfamiliar territory. Most people would take stability over adventure if it were offered to them. I have often wondered why I am so different from the rest of my family in this way. That is not to say my family doesn't have dreams. They do, but mine have always been so much different from theirs. It seems legitimate to ask where these dreams came from. Most children get their dreams from their parents, but my parents would tell you in an instant that they didn't plant those outrageous dreams in my head. Rather, it is like the dreams were there from the beginning. They were woven into my very being from before I was even born.
When I was fifteen, I embarked on a new adventure that literally changed my life. I am currently on that very same adventure, and it has taken me places I never expected to go. This adventure has taken me to slums in Haiti, hospitals in Guatemala, the inner-city of Chicago, and many other places as well. And while the adventure has taken me to some amazing places, the destinations aren't really what the adventure is all about. Instead, this adventure is mostly about the journey, and the only destination I really care about is the final one. I'll now stop speaking so cryptically and explain this grand adventure I've been on for the last four years.
I am following in the footsteps of the only wise King. It is truly a grand adventure to take Jesus at His word and actually do what He asks. The path of following Jesus gets rocky at times, but that just adds to the adventure. No matter how scary the task or how impassible the road may seem, my King has always made a way for me. He has been faithful even when I have been faithless. He has proven His love for me again and again.
And all the while, my thirst for adventure has remained. The different stops I have made on my journey walking with Christ have all been quite thrilling, but the final stop on my ticket is a better country than any I have visited thus far. I am looking forward to something better than this earth. That is why I am willing to go anywhere the Lord takes me- even if it's dangerous. God created me from birth to go and do great things for Him. He knew about this grand adventure even before I did.
So if you ever think I'm crazy for wanting to go to unwelcoming places with an unwelcome message, then just remember that I'm not doing it for myself. If I were going into Christian Missions for the sake of my own comfort and happiness, I would probably return to my home whenever the going got rough. But because I am longing for a better country, I will not let hardship or fear or discomfort keep me from spreading the fame of my King. Speaking about the saints of old, the author of Hebrews makes a point more eloquently than I:
"If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them" (Hebrews 11:15-17).
How do you explain the unquenchable desire of a little girl to go to unknown places where she can be free and independent? It is reasonable to say that she dreamed of a life better than the one she knew. Please don't misunderstand that statement. I was not and am not an escapist. My desire for going elsewhere was never motivated by the need to escape a harsh reality. Rather, I believe my desire was motivated by a sense of adventure. Surely there were more adventures to be had in NYC than in Celina, right? But now another question remains; where did this desire for adventure come from? Not everyone wants to live in unfamiliar territory. Most people would take stability over adventure if it were offered to them. I have often wondered why I am so different from the rest of my family in this way. That is not to say my family doesn't have dreams. They do, but mine have always been so much different from theirs. It seems legitimate to ask where these dreams came from. Most children get their dreams from their parents, but my parents would tell you in an instant that they didn't plant those outrageous dreams in my head. Rather, it is like the dreams were there from the beginning. They were woven into my very being from before I was even born.
When I was fifteen, I embarked on a new adventure that literally changed my life. I am currently on that very same adventure, and it has taken me places I never expected to go. This adventure has taken me to slums in Haiti, hospitals in Guatemala, the inner-city of Chicago, and many other places as well. And while the adventure has taken me to some amazing places, the destinations aren't really what the adventure is all about. Instead, this adventure is mostly about the journey, and the only destination I really care about is the final one. I'll now stop speaking so cryptically and explain this grand adventure I've been on for the last four years.
I am following in the footsteps of the only wise King. It is truly a grand adventure to take Jesus at His word and actually do what He asks. The path of following Jesus gets rocky at times, but that just adds to the adventure. No matter how scary the task or how impassible the road may seem, my King has always made a way for me. He has been faithful even when I have been faithless. He has proven His love for me again and again.
And all the while, my thirst for adventure has remained. The different stops I have made on my journey walking with Christ have all been quite thrilling, but the final stop on my ticket is a better country than any I have visited thus far. I am looking forward to something better than this earth. That is why I am willing to go anywhere the Lord takes me- even if it's dangerous. God created me from birth to go and do great things for Him. He knew about this grand adventure even before I did.
So if you ever think I'm crazy for wanting to go to unwelcoming places with an unwelcome message, then just remember that I'm not doing it for myself. If I were going into Christian Missions for the sake of my own comfort and happiness, I would probably return to my home whenever the going got rough. But because I am longing for a better country, I will not let hardship or fear or discomfort keep me from spreading the fame of my King. Speaking about the saints of old, the author of Hebrews makes a point more eloquently than I:
"If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them" (Hebrews 11:15-17).
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