Yesterday afternoon I spent some time reading through my journal and my blog from the end of last summer up until now. And it did take a solid chunk of time... But spelled out within those pages is quite the journey, let me tell you. In pouring over my struggles, triumphs, lamentations, joys and questions from the past year, I saw growth. I saw prayers answered. I saw God's faithfulness. A part of me wishes I could go through and give a follow-up post for all the things I wrote here that God responded to.
It would take me ages.
The most reoccurring question throughout the whole year was, "What is the matter with me?" Generally it was cried out in regards to me repeatedly not trusting completely in God's plan, which seems to have been, in no uncertain terms, my theme for the past year. My own naivety has been a source of almost constant amazement; I'm so small and insignificant and inadequate and unaware. Which I'm capable of spotting from three and a half miles away on my own, but when contrasted against the overwhelming majesty of God....... Yeah. I'm essentially nothing. And contrary to the general consensus of the American public, I've learned that this is, in fact, a wonderful thing.What an awesome god we serve.
July 30, 2011
July 23, 2011
low-maintenance?
This is the case with some of my closest friends:
I can have absolutely no communication with them whatsoever for months at a time, and when I see them again nothing is different. It is a rare relationship in which I feel compelled to stay in daily (or weekly) contact with someone. I leave for two months each summer and I honestly can't think of a time during that period when I called my parents, siblings or friends just to catch up and say hi. That's the way I am. I like to think of it as low-maintenance, but in reality it's probably equidistant from that and sheer laziness.
I've had brief conversations with two friends about this moderately undesirable trait I've seen in myself. One friend felt exactly the same way I do. People we don't see on a day-to-day basis, we don't feel a desperate need to constantly catch up with them. It's more, "I'll see you when I see you." We're not gonna break off all ties of friendship just because we haven't spent copious amounts of time together within the past three months... Just chill out, errrbody.
Except, the other friend verbally smacked me upside the head. The gist of this colloquial beating was, "Suck it up and put forth some effort." I'm ashamed to say that in the midst of justifying my own lethargy I had never taken into account the very real fact that those relationships are not about me. That might not be what I need out of the friendship, but should my primary focus really be on my own needs? What a great friend I am... Yikes. Even if my friends consider themselves to be "low-maintenance" as well, how am I cultivating the relationships God has blessed me with if I'm content to just sit and put forth the minimal amount of effort to just barely keep said friendships alive? I mean, really. There's a deeper-rooted issue here, and it's about more than the way I interact with people. It's the way I'm living my life. Am I floating, letting myself drift in whatever direction this capricious world blows me? How is that living intentionally? Our lives have the potential for purpose far beyond the restrictions of complacent American life. I want to leave a real, tangible, lasting legacy. Or I say that... My actions are supposed to reflect my desires. So what do I want, really? Easy, void of responsibility, lounging around and only taking action when it satisfies my selfishness. I'm such a narcissist... How often do I act on the initial premise that something IS about me, only to loose my footing on that slippery fallacy and watch my castle of shiny grace-centered pride crumble to bits? NOTHING is about me.
I can have absolutely no communication with them whatsoever for months at a time, and when I see them again nothing is different. It is a rare relationship in which I feel compelled to stay in daily (or weekly) contact with someone. I leave for two months each summer and I honestly can't think of a time during that period when I called my parents, siblings or friends just to catch up and say hi. That's the way I am. I like to think of it as low-maintenance, but in reality it's probably equidistant from that and sheer laziness.
I've had brief conversations with two friends about this moderately undesirable trait I've seen in myself. One friend felt exactly the same way I do. People we don't see on a day-to-day basis, we don't feel a desperate need to constantly catch up with them. It's more, "I'll see you when I see you." We're not gonna break off all ties of friendship just because we haven't spent copious amounts of time together within the past three months... Just chill out, errrbody.
Except, the other friend verbally smacked me upside the head. The gist of this colloquial beating was, "Suck it up and put forth some effort." I'm ashamed to say that in the midst of justifying my own lethargy I had never taken into account the very real fact that those relationships are not about me. That might not be what I need out of the friendship, but should my primary focus really be on my own needs? What a great friend I am... Yikes. Even if my friends consider themselves to be "low-maintenance" as well, how am I cultivating the relationships God has blessed me with if I'm content to just sit and put forth the minimal amount of effort to just barely keep said friendships alive? I mean, really. There's a deeper-rooted issue here, and it's about more than the way I interact with people. It's the way I'm living my life. Am I floating, letting myself drift in whatever direction this capricious world blows me? How is that living intentionally? Our lives have the potential for purpose far beyond the restrictions of complacent American life. I want to leave a real, tangible, lasting legacy. Or I say that... My actions are supposed to reflect my desires. So what do I want, really? Easy, void of responsibility, lounging around and only taking action when it satisfies my selfishness. I'm such a narcissist... How often do I act on the initial premise that something IS about me, only to loose my footing on that slippery fallacy and watch my castle of shiny grace-centered pride crumble to bits? NOTHING is about me.
July 19, 2011
soli deo gloria
Three and a half years ago, I was real confused. Primarily on this point: my cousin killed himself one January afternoon. For no apparent reason.
"God? Hello? I know you're there, but what the heck are you up to?"
There was a lingering question mark woven into every bit of consolation I received. It's true; we have no idea why crappy stuff happens. It's not God punishing us or anything-- this world is tainted by sin and therefore just kind of inherently sucks at times... A lot of the time. But was that all the comfort we would get, really?
"Your cousin shot himself in the head? Yeah, bummer dude. Isn't this world just the worst? Heaven will be better, just you wait..."
If that was all I got, I'm not sure how far I would have made it... I went to work as a cook at Hidden Acres six months after that, and I kept all that shenanigans to myself. No body wanted to hear about my sad miserable life. I wasn't there to drag everybody down, I was there to encourage the body of believers!
Grace's Flawless Plan #38: Uplift others, mask your own grief because it's just a hindrance to your ministry.
Yep. That went well... Until it didn't, which was almost instantaneously. Sure, it was with astonishing ease that I pretended to be super encouraging happy outgoing bubbly Grace. And then... the freezer was where I went to cry.
"My cheeks are red? Oh, it's nothing-- I was just in the freezer."
I'm an expert mask-designer. I wore them all summer long, until one night I went to chapel and heard the testimony of a counselor named Caitlin. Two years before that, her cousin shot himself in the head. The outrageous parallels between our stories still freaks me out a little bit... Although now I know that she was strategically placed in my life. She comforted and encouraged and gave me scripture and told me about God's love and purposes. God gives us pretty good smacks upside the head sometimes, doesn't He?
"You're trying to go through this on your own? Really? You're my child: run to Me. You need to confide in others who love Me, too. You can't do this on your own. But I'm here, and I'm sufficient."
Amen. For the past three years, that was where my testimony ended. That was the conclusion, and it was good. God places people in our lives to comfort us. We can rely on Him to get us through the hard stuff in this world. Yay God.
That sounds sarcastic or something.. Do I sound sarcastic? I can't express my sincerity: It was huge. I was gently and lovingly guided back to the cross by the strongest, most irresistible force in existence. He pulled me out of the ashes and gave me a renewed hope and trust in Him and His promises for our lives. God is GOOD.
But where my faux-sarcasm stems from is this: I seemed to think I could catalog His goodness. That I could look at each hardship or trial and then scroll over to the resolution column and check off each individual instance where His loving kindness prevailed.
Hardship: Cousin died
Resolution: Drawn closer to Christ.
Amen, closed case, the Lord is awesome.
Uhhhh, no. I don't get to confine the Creator of the Universe to an Excel spreadsheet. I don't get to pretend I'm bigger than Him. I don't get to dictate how He uses my experiences. I don't get to control or plan or even fully understand the ways He works.
This summer I had a camper whose best friend had committed suicide a few months before camp. And I was able to tell her exactly what she needed to hear, because I knew what would help and what wouldn't. I knew what promises of God she could cling to and what scripture would be able to pull her through it all. I looked her in the eyes and told her with all honesty that I knew exactly how she was feeling.
And I KNOW that girl was placed in my cabin. Strategically. Because my gracious, loving Creator had spent the last three years equipping me, through trial, for His ministry.
By His plan alone, for His purposes alone, to His glory alone.
Don't diminish what God can do. Don't minimize His power or His movement in our lives. I mean, really. Who are we that He even cares for us, that He even chooses to use us?
"God? Hello? I know you're there, but what the heck are you up to?"
There was a lingering question mark woven into every bit of consolation I received. It's true; we have no idea why crappy stuff happens. It's not God punishing us or anything-- this world is tainted by sin and therefore just kind of inherently sucks at times... A lot of the time. But was that all the comfort we would get, really?
"Your cousin shot himself in the head? Yeah, bummer dude. Isn't this world just the worst? Heaven will be better, just you wait..."
If that was all I got, I'm not sure how far I would have made it... I went to work as a cook at Hidden Acres six months after that, and I kept all that shenanigans to myself. No body wanted to hear about my sad miserable life. I wasn't there to drag everybody down, I was there to encourage the body of believers!
Grace's Flawless Plan #38: Uplift others, mask your own grief because it's just a hindrance to your ministry.
Yep. That went well... Until it didn't, which was almost instantaneously. Sure, it was with astonishing ease that I pretended to be super encouraging happy outgoing bubbly Grace. And then... the freezer was where I went to cry.
"My cheeks are red? Oh, it's nothing-- I was just in the freezer."
I'm an expert mask-designer. I wore them all summer long, until one night I went to chapel and heard the testimony of a counselor named Caitlin. Two years before that, her cousin shot himself in the head. The outrageous parallels between our stories still freaks me out a little bit... Although now I know that she was strategically placed in my life. She comforted and encouraged and gave me scripture and told me about God's love and purposes. God gives us pretty good smacks upside the head sometimes, doesn't He?
"You're trying to go through this on your own? Really? You're my child: run to Me. You need to confide in others who love Me, too. You can't do this on your own. But I'm here, and I'm sufficient."
Amen. For the past three years, that was where my testimony ended. That was the conclusion, and it was good. God places people in our lives to comfort us. We can rely on Him to get us through the hard stuff in this world. Yay God.
That sounds sarcastic or something.. Do I sound sarcastic? I can't express my sincerity: It was huge. I was gently and lovingly guided back to the cross by the strongest, most irresistible force in existence. He pulled me out of the ashes and gave me a renewed hope and trust in Him and His promises for our lives. God is GOOD.
But where my faux-sarcasm stems from is this: I seemed to think I could catalog His goodness. That I could look at each hardship or trial and then scroll over to the resolution column and check off each individual instance where His loving kindness prevailed.
Hardship: Cousin died
Resolution: Drawn closer to Christ.
Amen, closed case, the Lord is awesome.
Uhhhh, no. I don't get to confine the Creator of the Universe to an Excel spreadsheet. I don't get to pretend I'm bigger than Him. I don't get to dictate how He uses my experiences. I don't get to control or plan or even fully understand the ways He works.
This summer I had a camper whose best friend had committed suicide a few months before camp. And I was able to tell her exactly what she needed to hear, because I knew what would help and what wouldn't. I knew what promises of God she could cling to and what scripture would be able to pull her through it all. I looked her in the eyes and told her with all honesty that I knew exactly how she was feeling.
And I KNOW that girl was placed in my cabin. Strategically. Because my gracious, loving Creator had spent the last three years equipping me, through trial, for His ministry.
By His plan alone, for His purposes alone, to His glory alone.
Don't diminish what God can do. Don't minimize His power or His movement in our lives. I mean, really. Who are we that He even cares for us, that He even chooses to use us?
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