i love firsts in life. yesterday one happened to me. but it wasn't super loveable. it involved the ocean, something squishy and jelly-like, a stinging sensation, and the entirety of my left shin. in the realm of jellystings, though, it was minor.
in other news of firsts, i am really excited for jen's wedding. second to Jesus, the prospect of seeing jen and david get married and the dancing afterwards is what is getting me through this week relatively stress-free. even though i think i have plenty of things i could be stressing about, i have found that it is really not worth the stress. God's going to do what He's going to do... with or without my careful planning, perfect preparation, or practice.
the past few weeks have really been an exercise in letting go. even though i don't feel any perfect confirmation about the things i'm doing, i know that the Lord is in everything. i haven't been feeling much at all recently, as i normally would. in praying about it, i think the Lord is teaching me to trust Him even when i don't feel the evidences of His presence. this is the essence of faith, right? being certain of something i can't feel.
i bought brooke fraser's cd "albertine" about a week ago. it is awesome. give it a listen. the Lord has been using it to speak to me.
when i can't feel You, i have learned to reach out just the same
when i can't hear You, i know You still hear every word i pray
and i want You more than i want to live another day
and as i wait for You, maybe i'm made more faithful
-brooke fraser, "faithful"
i rejoice in the Lord, for He is renewing me day by day. He is pouring out His grace and mercy in my heart. He is making me strong. He is growing in me a faithful heart.
6.22.2010
where we will wallow
one of many reasons to love camp: pluff mud!
photo cred (like street cred but cooler) goes to laura haynie on rebecca moseley's camera.
photo cred (like street cred but cooler) goes to laura haynie on rebecca moseley's camera.
6.20.2010
deep desperation
i finished "enjoying god" and as always, i am amazed at the Lord's sovereignty in my life, how perfect He is in His timing, how precise He is in His plan. i started this book fall semester with my discipler, and when i started meeting with hillary in the spring, i just set the book aside, not knowing whether i would read it again later. as i packed for camp, i hurriedly grab it off the shelf, not thinking anything of it. and as i have read the second half here, almost seven months later, it is speaking exactly to where i am. it's so cool how the Lord used what seemed to me to be a not-so-great situation to grow me in this past week or so.
i love how God's ways are so much higher than my own.
in the book, hill addresses God's withdrawing His presence from us and how this can be the Lord's way of growing us into a deeper desire for intimacy with Him. i have been feeling a little bit dry lately, and i think a lot of this has to do with the fact that i haven't been able to really worship regularly. it's hard doing teaching program things, because i need to be making sure things are running smoothly while everyone else is singing. this isn't exactly the same as the Lord taking His presence, but it feels similarly to me. in turn, i am feeling a longing for the Lord bubble up in me, which is a really good thing, something i've been needing to experience.
there is a story in the book of a teacher and young man he is mentoring. the teacher walks the guy, eyes closed, into a lake until his head is covered. the teacher holds him under. eventually, the student starts to kick and flail, trying to come up to breathe. when the young man asks the teacher why he would do that, the teacher simply replied, "when you want God as much as you wanted air, you shall find Him."
on thursday, i was swimming a bit in the ocean after the mudpit (part of the sweating-out-the-pluff-mud-smell process). i decided to try this little story, and so i took as many strokes as possible before breathing. as i would finally gasp for some air, i would think about how much i felt i needed that air, and what it felt like to receive it.
this reminded me of how we don't really think through the things we sing. there is a worship song with the words "i need You more than the air i breathe." as many times as i have sung that song, i had never considered what i was professing until thursday. i had never thought through what wanting the Lord more than oxygen would look like. but i think i may have acquired a tiny glimpse of this.
and out of my barrenness and brokenness, i find i thirst for Jesus, knowing that He sees me even in my wilderness.
i love how God's ways are so much higher than my own.
in the book, hill addresses God's withdrawing His presence from us and how this can be the Lord's way of growing us into a deeper desire for intimacy with Him. i have been feeling a little bit dry lately, and i think a lot of this has to do with the fact that i haven't been able to really worship regularly. it's hard doing teaching program things, because i need to be making sure things are running smoothly while everyone else is singing. this isn't exactly the same as the Lord taking His presence, but it feels similarly to me. in turn, i am feeling a longing for the Lord bubble up in me, which is a really good thing, something i've been needing to experience.
there is a story in the book of a teacher and young man he is mentoring. the teacher walks the guy, eyes closed, into a lake until his head is covered. the teacher holds him under. eventually, the student starts to kick and flail, trying to come up to breathe. when the young man asks the teacher why he would do that, the teacher simply replied, "when you want God as much as you wanted air, you shall find Him."
on thursday, i was swimming a bit in the ocean after the mudpit (part of the sweating-out-the-pluff-mud-smell process). i decided to try this little story, and so i took as many strokes as possible before breathing. as i would finally gasp for some air, i would think about how much i felt i needed that air, and what it felt like to receive it.
this reminded me of how we don't really think through the things we sing. there is a worship song with the words "i need You more than the air i breathe." as many times as i have sung that song, i had never considered what i was professing until thursday. i had never thought through what wanting the Lord more than oxygen would look like. but i think i may have acquired a tiny glimpse of this.
and out of my barrenness and brokenness, i find i thirst for Jesus, knowing that He sees me even in my wilderness.
6.13.2010
fingers intertwined
right now i am finishing "enjoying god." in the book, s.j. hill talks about the fact that in christian circles we often claim grace but live under the law of duty and service. we assume that God would prefer us doing things for Him over spending time getting to know Him, but God desires our closeness. His nearness is our good, but we often try to serve Him from far off. i am guilty of this a lot of the time, since i'm very performance-driven. (this is partially who i am and partially how i have been conditioned to think.) this has been particularly hard for me at camp, being in a leadership position in which i am responsible for making sure that things get done. i spending hours thinking about planning skits and the teaching program, but i don't spend hours in prayer, in the Word, or in listening to my Father's heart. i want to trust the Lord with my decisions, but i often fear He won't come through in time.
in the book, hill cites a verse to demonstrate how we should aim to know God before aiming to do things for Him. i thought this was really cool. when Jesus calls His disciples, "He appointed twelve, so that they would be with Him and so that He could send them out to preach"(mark 3:14). hill notes the order of Jesus' reasoning: He called them first of all to be WITH Him, not to do a bunch of stuff for Him. Jesus earnestly desired their friendship. and yes, they would all do bunch of stuff in His name, but this was an overflow of the relationship that they had. the disciples were not doing the preaching without the intimacy of knowing their Savior on a personal level.
this makes so much sense. how could i possibly go about talking about a God i know nothing of? how could i try to worship someone i haven't sought to understand? how could i attempt to serve a stranger? i could try my hardest, but not knowing His nature, i would probably serve incorrectly.
this can all feel kind of discouraging to me sometimes. i ask myself, how can i ever know God well enough to do anything? He is unfathomable. i will fail. i wonder why i ever let myself agree to lead the teaching team. (oh right, God's calling.) i feel frustrated that i can't figure it out, and frustrated in my fear that the way i serve is most likely a contradiction to who God is, though i know this is not true. i often feel like no matter what i do, God will never think it is good enough because i will never get to a place where i know Him "well enough." all i can do is know and then serve from where i am.
i have recently felt the immense weight of performance, seeing as the teaching program for the older campers isn't done yet. i get upset because God isn't giving me some grand ideas that will win kids to Christ, and i feel like i've failed Him in every way, not to mention jonathan and everyone else on staff. in my head, i know this is not true. in my heart, it feels so real. but the Lord is consistently reassuring me that His love for me and His grace that covers my life is not conditional upon what i do for the teaching team at camp, or on what i do at all for that matter. His affections for me are not based on anything other than His nature. and for me, motivated so often by the approval of others, it strange to think that i can gain approval without doing anything.
i have recently felt more and more what it is like to consider God as my ultimate dad. the feeling of approval from my earthly dad is amazing; i love his encouragement and cherish those moments when he said "i am so proud of you" and i adore his hugs and when he kisses me goodnight even though i am nearing twenty-two. and in thinking about the Lord, how unconditional that treatment is, how tender His affections for me, how i get that "well done" without ever actually doing anything... it is often beyond what i can comprehend or bear. the nod of approval, the gentle smile, and the "you're a wonderful daughter" hug are daily occurences in my relationship with the Lord. He is always offering these reassurances to me that i so desperately need. and no matter how much i seem to fail based on earthly standards, my Abba in heaven is looking down, reaching out for my hand to give it the squeeze that says "you're the best" and "i love you more than you know."
in the book, hill cites a verse to demonstrate how we should aim to know God before aiming to do things for Him. i thought this was really cool. when Jesus calls His disciples, "He appointed twelve, so that they would be with Him and so that He could send them out to preach"(mark 3:14). hill notes the order of Jesus' reasoning: He called them first of all to be WITH Him, not to do a bunch of stuff for Him. Jesus earnestly desired their friendship. and yes, they would all do bunch of stuff in His name, but this was an overflow of the relationship that they had. the disciples were not doing the preaching without the intimacy of knowing their Savior on a personal level.
this makes so much sense. how could i possibly go about talking about a God i know nothing of? how could i try to worship someone i haven't sought to understand? how could i attempt to serve a stranger? i could try my hardest, but not knowing His nature, i would probably serve incorrectly.
this can all feel kind of discouraging to me sometimes. i ask myself, how can i ever know God well enough to do anything? He is unfathomable. i will fail. i wonder why i ever let myself agree to lead the teaching team. (oh right, God's calling.) i feel frustrated that i can't figure it out, and frustrated in my fear that the way i serve is most likely a contradiction to who God is, though i know this is not true. i often feel like no matter what i do, God will never think it is good enough because i will never get to a place where i know Him "well enough." all i can do is know and then serve from where i am.
i have recently felt the immense weight of performance, seeing as the teaching program for the older campers isn't done yet. i get upset because God isn't giving me some grand ideas that will win kids to Christ, and i feel like i've failed Him in every way, not to mention jonathan and everyone else on staff. in my head, i know this is not true. in my heart, it feels so real. but the Lord is consistently reassuring me that His love for me and His grace that covers my life is not conditional upon what i do for the teaching team at camp, or on what i do at all for that matter. His affections for me are not based on anything other than His nature. and for me, motivated so often by the approval of others, it strange to think that i can gain approval without doing anything.
i have recently felt more and more what it is like to consider God as my ultimate dad. the feeling of approval from my earthly dad is amazing; i love his encouragement and cherish those moments when he said "i am so proud of you" and i adore his hugs and when he kisses me goodnight even though i am nearing twenty-two. and in thinking about the Lord, how unconditional that treatment is, how tender His affections for me, how i get that "well done" without ever actually doing anything... it is often beyond what i can comprehend or bear. the nod of approval, the gentle smile, and the "you're a wonderful daughter" hug are daily occurences in my relationship with the Lord. He is always offering these reassurances to me that i so desperately need. and no matter how much i seem to fail based on earthly standards, my Abba in heaven is looking down, reaching out for my hand to give it the squeeze that says "you're the best" and "i love you more than you know."
6.07.2010
the first flush of morning
during the liturgy at church today, as i was responding before communion, i was struck with one specific part, when the congregation says, "we do not approach this table trusting in our own righteousness." and as i said those words, i began to think on all the sundays in my life when i had approached the Lord, His house, His meal, or His people with my trust placed completely in my own ability to be good on my own. i figured this accounts for at least 75 percent of days, today included.
my heart lifted as the bishop from northern uganda spoke about how after he chose Jesus at age 19, his life was changed forever. and then, my heart sank. i remembered my own life, how i chose Jesus when i was only 8 years old. though i know i understood the Gospel when i accepted it, i don't feel like there is such a moment in my life. it's kind of strange when your life is one huge process full of little moments, each important in its own way. your life starts to feel less like a testimony and more like a history lesson.
i still struggle with my "testimony." in my younger years, i felt i didn't have one at all. in high school, i knew it existed but just thought it was way more lame than everyone else's. all of their stories had the darkest mistakes and the most epic conquerings of them. mine paled in comparison, i thought.
today i feel better about where the Lord has brought me, but i still feel this testimony and my self-righteousness are related. i never did all the "bad" stuff other kids did. i just sinned and sinned and sinned in my heart.
i have wished for some massive failures, and i've gotten them. i have wanted drastic recoveries, and God has moved. i guess they just came later for me than for others. i am still in constant need of God's refining, because often i still see myself in terms of what i can do. i have trouble with trust. but despite my reluctance, i accept. and in accepting the fire, i receive God's grace. and a righteousness that is not mine at all.
my heart lifted as the bishop from northern uganda spoke about how after he chose Jesus at age 19, his life was changed forever. and then, my heart sank. i remembered my own life, how i chose Jesus when i was only 8 years old. though i know i understood the Gospel when i accepted it, i don't feel like there is such a moment in my life. it's kind of strange when your life is one huge process full of little moments, each important in its own way. your life starts to feel less like a testimony and more like a history lesson.
i still struggle with my "testimony." in my younger years, i felt i didn't have one at all. in high school, i knew it existed but just thought it was way more lame than everyone else's. all of their stories had the darkest mistakes and the most epic conquerings of them. mine paled in comparison, i thought.
today i feel better about where the Lord has brought me, but i still feel this testimony and my self-righteousness are related. i never did all the "bad" stuff other kids did. i just sinned and sinned and sinned in my heart.
i have wished for some massive failures, and i've gotten them. i have wanted drastic recoveries, and God has moved. i guess they just came later for me than for others. i am still in constant need of God's refining, because often i still see myself in terms of what i can do. i have trouble with trust. but despite my reluctance, i accept. and in accepting the fire, i receive God's grace. and a righteousness that is not mine at all.
6.02.2010
waterworks
it's funny how emotional i can be sometimes (or most of the time). people who know me well are pretty used to this. tears are a regular part of my life. this doesn't bother me much; it's actually one of the things i really like about myself. getting to cry is such a wonderful release for me that i usually welcome it. i anticipate it because it is one of those things that i can feel coming on, usually the night before. and when i finally get the chance to cry, the Lord does good things in me.
last night was no different from many other nights in my life. as i was talking with caitlin and sarah margaret, i was thinking aloud. i said, "i think i need to cry soon. probably tomorrow." and sure enough, today has already been full of tears, and it's not even two yet. today i have felt overwhelmed and inadequate and disappointed with myself, all things that are not from the Lord. but it's not always this way with my tears. i cry a lot when i am burdened for other people, when i'm sharing in their pain, when i encounter the Lord, and when i'm asking God for things. these are pretty frequent occurrences in my life and so are the tears.
in my world, where i feel like i'm the only person who cries often, this occasionally makes me feel weird. why i am overly emotional? am i weak? why can't i control myself sometimes? and then i remember that people in the Bible cried a lot. the psalmist especially. David was a pretty passionate guy, and while i have no proof, i am willing to bet that he cried. Jesus Himself cried out while spending time with His Dad, with prayers and supplications, loud cries and tears. (heb. 5:7)
and this is my reassurance whenever i question my emotions: those who sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy. (ps. 126:5)
last night was no different from many other nights in my life. as i was talking with caitlin and sarah margaret, i was thinking aloud. i said, "i think i need to cry soon. probably tomorrow." and sure enough, today has already been full of tears, and it's not even two yet. today i have felt overwhelmed and inadequate and disappointed with myself, all things that are not from the Lord. but it's not always this way with my tears. i cry a lot when i am burdened for other people, when i'm sharing in their pain, when i encounter the Lord, and when i'm asking God for things. these are pretty frequent occurrences in my life and so are the tears.
in my world, where i feel like i'm the only person who cries often, this occasionally makes me feel weird. why i am overly emotional? am i weak? why can't i control myself sometimes? and then i remember that people in the Bible cried a lot. the psalmist especially. David was a pretty passionate guy, and while i have no proof, i am willing to bet that he cried. Jesus Himself cried out while spending time with His Dad, with prayers and supplications, loud cries and tears. (heb. 5:7)
and this is my reassurance whenever i question my emotions: those who sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy. (ps. 126:5)
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