The Good Dark Valley

 I keep telling myself I'll blog more when I have a functioning computer, but who knows when I'll get that far.

When it comes to blogging, I always want whatever I put out there to be worth the time of the sweet humans who bother to read it. I could blog all about the *things* I do and stuff I've gotten done.... but that's so.. boring.

And while I've been doing *stuff*.. the Lord continues to develop my heart. I know I had that depressing blog a month or so ago where I admitted the broken, weary state of my heart, and I was hoping the next deep, well-thought-out blog that came off the press would be an epic update on how I'd finally summited out of my broken valley and was cloud 9 and overwhelmed and all of the joyful, happy things that a person made whole in Christ would have to report.

While I have found higher points on which to stand within my valley, I'm still in it. Indefinitely, it seems. I've accepted that there is no formula, no prayer, no verse, no word of encouragement that just magically lifts you out and sets you free. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. The Lord, who has plans to prosper and not to harm plans to give a hope and future. The Lord who promises never to leave us or forsake us, the Lord who promises "where you go, I will go" and says, " Abide in me and you will bear fruit." The Lord who declares, " Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard." The Lord, makes all things perfect in His time.

I know a lot of things to be true. I still have an anchor of hope, treasured in jars of clay, that being broken, experiencing pain, being exhausted in a dark valley is a result of God's goodness. At times it makes no sense and in my brokenness, I ask the Lord, "how is this GOOD? This does not feel good."

And while my flesh would like to admit, "this is NOT good. It's only good if it feels good." I know, in that treasured hope that I have, it is unmistakenly good. At least, a part of my heart knows that. I fight myself to know that and claim that truth.

But, of things I've come to know, I realized I had put God in a box. An un-complicated box where only things good and wonderful fit in it. A box where I could easily sort out all of my experiences. If it was good, it was from God. If it is painful, it came from my short-comings and failures and over all not-good-enough-ness.

I've known better in the past, but I'm learning to know better again.

Slowly...gently, the Lord is pealing back the layers of my heart and finding the little pea at the bottom of 7 mattresses that is causing unthinkable and unexplainable distress. The need for gentleness makes for a slow, slow process. While I would like it to be over quickly, I don't think I could handle a more rapid pace.

God does not fit in my good box. God does not fit in my simple box. In fact, God does not fit a lot of the ideas I had about Him. I thought I had Him figured out, but I'm realizing I don't have a clue, actually.

The biggest question I've had lately is, "Who are you, God?"

Just like the disciples panicking at sea as their boat begins to sink, "Who is this man that even the wind and the waves obey Him?" Not because I've completely missed all of the miracles and wondrous displays to this point..but because I thought I knew Him. I thought I knew a God who was ALWAYS always always acting in my favor and protecting me and making me safe. But, I got in the boat with a guy who doesn't mind letting the boat take on water. Who doesn't mind letting you get to a point of panic. Who *can* calm the waters and the storms and the wind and waves... who can. But doesn't just do it. He doesn't promise calm waters, he doesn't stop the rain when you're out in the middle of the sea, He doesn't tell you ahead of time, "By the way.. there's a storm coming and by the time we're out in the middle.. it's going to be terrible and dangerous and awful."

In my mind, the most LOVING people, the most kind, the most considerate of my needs would TELL me, "By the way... there's a storm, and I want you to be safe." I mean... my own mother forced me out of the house earlier than I intended after Thanksgiving because she wanted me back to my apartment safe and sound before the ice-storm came and made things treacherous. Because that's loving.  At least, that is how my mind perceives being loved.

But God... is not like that. Who is this man, that He would take us out in a little fisherman's boat in the middle of a storm and then stay on the sidelines while we fight it for all we're worth and exhaust ourselves and be completely defeated before we ask for help?

Who is this man that He would proclaim He loves us beyond our comprehension and give up His life to prove it and then LET us go through broken times. And LET us live in perpetual pain. That He would give us good things. And then take the same good things away and call it love?

Who are you, God?

Who is this man that even the wind and the waves obey Him and I put so much effort into keeping my boat afloat in the storm and exhaust myself raising my tattered sails and push with all my might on the tiller to try and get the rudder to point my life back in the right direction? Who is this man who loves me well enough to sit in the boat with me while He shows me that I actually have zero control over the direction of the boat or the circumstances of the boat or the outcome or the buoyance or the whole-ness of or the blessed strength to preserve enough to float on after it falls to pieces.

I don't doubt that Jesus might have let the boat go all the way down. That He would have waited as long as He needed to wait. Which still begs the question, "Who is this man, who has the power to act and prevent and protect and overcomes himself in order to show you that he can still hear you above the winds and the waves and the cracking bow and the tattered sails and the broken oars and the cussing and the screaming and the panic. He can still hear you.

And He is good. He is good.  He is good.

I don't truly know Him. But He is good.

C.S. Lewis profoundly said it best when he wrote The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and penned:
"“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.” 


And that is as far as I've comprehend whilst I continue to trudge my way forward.

My life is not my life and I am not safe. I am not invincible, I am not un-touchable, I am not so protected that I shall not be broken and battered and exhausted and hurt... but I am loved. And the One who loves me is good.

Why I Go Home for Thanksgiving

I know I recently promised a tell-all of the abandoned buildings I've thoroughly explored in the last 12 months.. that blog is still coming. I just decided that maybe this post needed this broken window from an old early 1900s school I explored... twice. That's a whole big story in and of itself, though. When I get around to typing it up for you, I'll be sure to include the disappearing idol and having to army crawl through tall grass at top speed while praying for invisibility. 

Isn't it interesting how much light can come through a broken window? If it was a whole window but a dirty window.. not near as much light would be able to come through it. One thing I've learned during my abandoned excursions are 1) Broken windows are always your friend. 2) Day time is always the best time. When you don't have any electricity, sunlight is the next best thing. Also.. exploring at night is really obvious to any passer-by. One little light dancing in the window of something that's sat "untouched" for 50 years is a little suspicious. 

All that is to say... sometimes God breaks out the windows of my heart. He replaces them later, of course, but sometimes the necessary things are painful and messy. 

My heart has been doing a little better since my last post. 

I think after time at home with my family, things will be much improved. I've felt a little suffocated lately and I think a little break and breathing will be just what the doctor ordered. 

If you've followed my blog for any length of time, you'd know that Thanksgiving is one of my very favorite holidays to be home. My family is just wonderful and so any time we can get the whole bunch of us under one roof for a while, is a wonderful time. 

I'm beyond words excited to head home. I'm kinda imagining myself to be like one of those cartoon characters who crashes to a stop and is all bent out of shape and dead looking. Just on my insides, though. I'm very thankful for the life I have and the place I'm in and the people I have. I'm VERY blessed. I love my church, I love my church people. 

I'm just really excited to be around the people who love me best. Where I can ask for a glass of water and receive it without anyone telling me I'm needy. Where kitchen cleaning inevitably turns into a dance party and it isn't uncommon to be awoken by someone bringing you a hot cup of coffee just the way you like it. Where we are so loathe to leave each other's company in the evening, we fall asleep on the couch and slowly drag ourselves to our rooms at 2 in the morning. Where you fall asleep to the smell of the woodstove and wake up to the sound of someone stoking the fire and adding another log. 

Home is where whipped cream comes in liquid form at first and only becomes whipped cream by the act of being whipped. 

Home is where your contact solution goes missing because someone else forgot to bring theirs and you accidently left yours out in the open. Home is where mom assigns everyone 3 hand-wash dishes after dinner which adds up to 30 dishes that wouldn't fit in the dishwasher and you just kind of hope that there's actually only 17 dishes and there isn't enough for you.. but then you end up doing five and it doesn't even look like you did any. 

Home is where you can play Age of Empires with 7 friends and still have too many friends for the maximum game capacity. Where reading Calvin and Hobbes, Foxtrot and Garfield are a perfectly acceptable way of spending your afternoon. Also, sleeping is very respected. Even if 14 people are in the house and someone fell asleep on the couch.. the lights get turned off and the person gets covered with a blanket and then used as a pillow. 

Home is where you can count on unlimited hugs and getting your shoulders rubbed and your split-ends trimmed. Home is where laughter is in abundance and hiccups are inevitable. 

I like home.  I will be home soon. 

When the Boat Springs a Leak

It was just yesterday morning that I realized that a lot of my short snapchats to people are not laced with thankfulness and positivity.
I realized this because I woke up to a response that said, "You poor dear." Or something to that affect. 

I've been taking some nice little knock-out potions before bed lately, and so it's almost like I don't even have memories from the night before sometimes. So, with snapchat, the snaps disappear after a certain amount of seconds and when you send one, you don't get a chance to take it back OR know what you sent if you forgot.

SO , for whatever thing I complained about two days ago that elicited the response "poor Fern" was probably not worth complaining about if I don't remember what it was. But then I got to thinking, "Gee... am I just a really negative person lately? And I think I concluded that, yes, I probably have been.

I mean, I know the internal state of my heart lately, and I've been trying to keep it under wraps and hidden and stuff, but who am I kidding? I can't hide anything in my heart any better than I can keep my kitchen sink free of dishes. 

Sometimes, too, my heart gets worse before it gets better. That's where I've been lately. Now that I have my job, The Lord is working on some things that just need some adjustments.

The way my job works, I'm able to listen to whatever I want as I work on cases or wait for paperwork to come in or whatever. It's been nice, I've listened to HOURS upon hours of sermons. Different pastors, different topics.. it's been amazing. Honestly, I've spent more time listening to sermons lately than I have on social media.. which is like... #LifeGoals.

I've had really good hours spent at home with the Lord, too. Sitting, listening, journaling, listening. It's been raw and honest and good.
That being said, you'd think being SO saturated in Truth and Challenge, my heart would be on cloud 9, right?

I feel like Jacob, wrestling with God in the darkness, waiting for Daybreak to come. But the thing is, I don't even know what I'm wrestling with God about and I already feel defeated anyways.
I mean, I've told God I give up a lot of times at this point. That means I surrender, right? I thought it did. But, there hasn't been any relief or overwhelming sense of freedom and joy and peace. 

I'm beginning to wonder if there is something to surrendering that I haven't comprehended yet. Because I feel like "giving up" has worked for me in the past, but for as many times as I've told the Lord that I give up, it's not even really an option because if I don't keep actively pursuing Truth and fighting for the joy that I know is out there somewhere, I'd be defeated I think.

But I am, currently, defeated.

But I've also been defeated for a long, long time. You know? Like, not being employed, being a bum on society really defeated me. To the bottom of my heart I felt like I really had no good purpose for anything. I didn't feel like I had any right to be living in Des Moines, enjoying an apartment with a swimming pool and hot-tub without working myself into exhaustion and "deserving" it.

You know? Like, I wasn't a "real adult" in the "real world".. I was just a bum, staying the day in my apartment applying for jobs.. but that doesn't make you worth anything when that's all you're doing with your life, right? People don't ask you anything about your heart or your art projects or your quiet times or your latest adventures when you're unemployed. They only ask you how the job hunt is going because that's all that really matters, I think. All I wanted was a job so I could count, you know? And I thought when I finally achieved employment and an income, I'd feel like I counted or was worth something.

Now when people ask me what I do, I get to say, "I work with Roth IRAs and inspect the paperwork to make sure people's social security payment requests are in good order and then I issue their contracts." I have a whole important-sounding thing I get to say about my life.

Having a job is like having a resume for life. Now when people ask me what I do, I hear it like, "Why do you matter to society?" My answer "Job searching" was more like me saying, "I'm working on mattering to society but I'm not there yet." And NOW I can say I matter because old people need their social security payments.
That's nice, right? I should be happy. And proud. And happy.  Right? Am I wrong? I feel like I'm right.

What have I to complain about anyways? My team is awesome, my job is ideal, my pursuit of the Lord has been intentional and consistent and my Christian fellowship has been encouraging. So the formula is perfect for a full and overflowing cup. All the ingredients are there.

But somewhere in the bottom of my heart, I still don't feel like I've quite earned my worth just yet. And that's funny because I KNOW in my head and in my heart that my worth only truly comes from the Lord. I'm 100% fully aware of my identity in Christ and my value in His eyes. I know the Lord sees me as valuable even when the world does not. The Lord fights for me, I know. The Lord has brought me out of a lot of deep, dark valleys before brought me into a spacious place because He delights in me.

The Lord has done obvious, big impressive things to make me aware of His love and intentions for my life. So I know, deep down, that one day I won't be surrounded by darkness. Some day. At this point, though, my present and my future are far too dark to even know if I'm going the right direction to get out of the valley, you know?

My pastor used to talk about a dark night of the soul. Where everything can be just fine and your heart still cannot comprehend joy. And perhaps that is just where I am. In the dark. But with God, too. His light casts out the dark, right? Perhaps in heaven, but for now, on earth, I feel like I'll be in the dark more than in the light even if I never take one step away from the Lord.

While I don't have joy and peace.. I do have hope. A deep unmoving hope anchored to a foundation that will not move. A lamp that never quite flickers out.

I've felt like the disciples, too. The part where they wake up Jesus and say, "Lord, don't you even care if we drown in this storm?"  For as much as I judge those guys for not having faith when they straight up had Jesus in the boat with them, I'm just exactly like them. Perhaps because a good deal of the disciples had been in a boat a million times before and they knew when it was time to panic about the situation. They weren't sissys, afterall. They were competent sea-men with muscles and the know-how to handle their boat in the water. But there's an appropriate time to panic, right? The Bible says the boat was taking on water.

Maybe they had faith that whole time. Maybe the storm was going on for hours and they battled it for a good long time and were pretty much exhausted before they noticed the boat was straight up sinking.. like actually going down, and that's the point they were like, "Hey Lord.. this is a real bad situation that needs some help. Like.. wake up and DO SOMETHING because we got no other option." And I feel like that sometimes. Where it's like, "Okay Lord, you're in the boat with me, so that's good. You can walk on the water if I don't have the boat, so that's good. BUT I know me and I know my limits and I know that after I've battled a storm in my boat for a good long time, if I lose the boat I'm not gonna have the strength to swim in the sea in the middle of a storm. I'm not going to be treading water or making my  way to shore or even attempting either of those things. So.. save the boat if you wanna save me."

I'm really gaining a lot of insight into the dipsticks in the Bible, actually. The more I look at my life, the more I see myself in the other guys' boots. Jacob was wrestling with the Lord and I'm like, "Yeah, I'ma struggle 'til the sun comes up because I'm alone and I got nothing by night-time ahead of me."

And I'm like, "Jesus, I'm about to drown.. in case you missed that part while you were sleeping. Feel free to calm the waves and the wind anytime.. no pressure but.. the boats been leaking and it's barely floating."

And I'm like, " Hey God.. been wandering in the wilderness for a while. I've seen you do big things before.. but it's been a while and the daily Manna has tasted pretty good.. it was pretty great to start.. but anytime you wanna point me towards the original goal.. the original plan for my future... the promised land goal.. that one.. any time.. you can lead me there anytime now."

And you may as well call me Mara while you're at it because I'm a little bitter. I've noticed that. I don't really fully comprehend why at this point.. but if we're being honest, you can add that to the list.

And sometimes I'm one of the blind baggers on the roadside.. just sitting, not seeing. And sometimes, I see myself as Jonah.

I always prayed in college that I would never ever be a Jonah. Jonah went the opposite way on purpose. And God tracked him down real quick.And then he did the right thing and kept waiting for things to happen the way he wanted them to happen. He say waiting long enough for a tree to grow big enough to shade him from the sun and die from a worm problem.. that's a REALLY long time to sit and wait for God to do something.

I really hope I'm not Jonah. But sometimes I wonder if I am.

Either way, I'm waiting for something to happen, I think. I couldn't tell you what exactly.. maybe just my heart to be filled with joy down to the bottomest places. Maybe that's all I want. But I'm waiting and sometimes it's hard to tell if I'm looking the right direction to see what God is doing.  

He Goes Before Me

I've been meaning to update the world on my new job... I've typed a few blogs, but it seems I'm just never home long enough to remember to crack open my computer and post them.

We'll see if I can get today's out.

Work is great. I've graduated from the first part of my training and am pretty independent.

I'm trained to work a very specific case type from a specific company. If I never had to learn a new type of case, I'd be fine with that. But, that's me worrying over the complications of someone else's retirement funds and my chance at potentially ruining their lives.

But! No matter, I'm enjoying my time on eSPIAs while I have them. For the time being, I show up at my cubical and try to pull up cases as online and check the paper work. If the paper work is all there and in good order I'll send it to my supervisor to do a quality check, if I pass that and the funds are in our account, than I issue the contract.

That part makes me the most nervous.. I'm always afraid I'm going to mess something up. But, I'm getting more and more comfortable every day.
Our floor is divided into teams. I'm on the complex services team, which means I'll handle a mixture of what other teams on this floor. My team huddles every morning at 9:15 and we go over the complications of different insurance paperworks and companies, brokers that are giving us trouble and other things like that. Usually all of this goes over my head, but I stand there and look like I know what they're talking about.

They also make jokes where the punch lines don't make any sense to me. It'll be like, "Insurance blah blah blah paperwork blah blah blah...... California!" And they think it's funny.. and maybe someday I'll understand why insurance paperwork in California is funny.. but right now...I got nothing. But my team is great. I doubt there are any believers on my team.. but maybe I'll be surprised.

The most obvious God-thing about this job is where they placed me, cubicle wise.
There were two or three empty cubicles amongst my team's cluster. However, because they wanted me close to the people who work most often with the kind of contracts on which I'm trained, they put me in a cubicle that is part of a different team's cluster. I'm close to the people I need to be, but the super fun fact about that "coincidence" is that I share a cubicle wall with a lady who is a believer.

It was my third or fourth day here that I was sitting at my computer and over the cubicle wall I could here the lady next to me talking to the lady on the other side of our cubicle wall  and I heard her say "I met them at church." I immediately perked up.
It was another day, that I heard her say, "I'm making them for small group tonight." After that I kept waiting for the perfect opportunity to introduce myself... but since she wasn't on my team there wasn't much excuse to pop my head over to her cube.

On Monday last week, however, one of my teammates who is usually very chatty throughout the day was out of the office, and so she popped her head over to mine to comment on how quiet it was without him around. I agreed. She then said, "I usually just keep my ear buds in and listen to my music" which is when I asked her, "What kind of music is that" and she hesitated a little before she said, "Oh, I just listen to Christian music." and so I asked her where she went to church and stuff like that, and she told me all about how much she likes Michael W. Smith music (She's in her 50s I think). After  a little chat on different Christian music we like she said, "Well! Nice to meet you. I'm glad we have that in common." And ever since then she's popped her head over my wall to ask after my day or share with me something about a song she was listening too.

It's been rewarding too, because she has given me a Michael W. Smith's classical symphony CD and has, just today, promised me his latest Christmas Album. :D
MWS Christmas Albums have been the mark of my Christmas for years! So, I'm pretty stoked about that. Having a car with a working CD player and a lot of drives that are more than 2 hours long, CDs are the things that make my drives sweet.

Thinking about how he Lord sent his followers out in teams of two and when I first got here I wondered how on earth I was going to do this by myself, I cannot deny that the Lord went before me on this one. For now, it's just me and Kim talking over our cubicle walls about our church events or Bible study lessons, but seeing as how you can hear everyone's conversations over cubicle walls, I'm sure it's making people think somewhere. 

Another blessing about this job, is that since there's only so much I can do if there isn't any paperwork available for my cases, I've been able to utilize my down time to study for my GRE.

I discovered sometime last week that my GRE study site is not blocked by the company firewalls, so I've been able to put in a lot of study time. In fact, I learned 51 new vocabulary words last week.

In other news, I've been loving all the things I've been doing with my church. We're going through Exodus in a Set Free series and it's been really great. Our small group meets Monday nights and we've had really great discussion and the whole group dynamic is pretty stellar. 

On Tuesday nights I help with AWANA. I love this because AWANA brings me back to my childhood. I LOVED attending AWANA when I was a kid. Now I'm the female leader for the 3rd-6th grade. We only have about 12 kids, and a good deal of them a kinda naughty.. but I like them a lot. A couple of them like me a lot and sometimes I forget that I'm the adult in charge because we're having so much fun.

On Wednesday nights (sometimes) I have Dr. Who night with some of my friends from Bible study. We have people from study who come just for the social outing, but Dr. Who makes no sense to them and they usually look a little shell shocked after one episode.

Friday and Saturday night are both church nights for me... usually there's a hangout for our Bible study on Fridays and then after church Saturday night.

I've also been volunteering in the nursery Sunday mornings. I like this a lot too, because I've missed being around very small children and I like to be in the heart of where needs are the greatest. And let me tell you, at my young church, there are TONS of babies and tons of need for nursery help. Good gracious. It usually looks something like world war III in our nursery room. That's mostly because I build giant lego towers and Neil and Xander fly their trucks into them and send the giant legos flying across the room. Only one kid's face has been hit by the flying legos so far, so it seems to be on OK distraction.

Those are the main things going on in my life at the moment. Besides all that I have a few painting projects to finish. One of which is a milk can that is *ALMOST* done. I hope to have it returned to the comissioner before the end of the month.. or by Thanksgiving, which ever one brings me back to Northwest Iowa first. 

Thanks for all the prayers, friends! God is hearing you and I am blessed. 

knowing a little unknown... AKA I GOT A JOB

Happy October, friends! I had all but given up on ever getting to tell you my job situaion had changed, but, it's a new month, it's a new chapter. I am beyond EXCITED to announce that I have accepted a position with a company where I get to sit in a cubical and inspect paperwork and make sure it looks good and if it doesn't..I get to call them and tell them as much.

Bad guy, business. I havent started yet, and nothing about it seems to make feel especially comfortable, but it's a job and I am very thankful.

Actually, after days turned into weeks which turned into months of nothing... it came down to two jobs. I interviewed for two different jobs in different situations. One for a church office assistant and one for a cubical same-old-same-old job. I thought about the church job.. i thought, "this is it! Church environment, believing co-workers, technically doing ministry because its the behind-the-scenes stuff that all churches need." Then I interviewed for the coorporate job and it was same hours, same pay... but I felt like I blew the interview as I talked about how much I love helping people and they then explained I'd be ruining people's days.

I felt like "well, if I blew that interview, oh well.. Id rather work in a church, serving the Lord, it seems more right." But I was actually really upset at the thought of not getting the cubical job. For some inexplainable reason.. I mean.. Im not a cubical person. Im a front-desk-front-office-load-me-ith-work kinda girl. But, I just felt like, maybe the Lord doesnt intend for me to take the easy road when He puts easy things in front of me. Plus, I wasnt sure I was fully sensing the Holy Spirit during the church interview, and I think it would be very discouraging to me if I worked in a church where peeople are supposed to love Jesus but don't.. rather than a boring ol' office job where people just might not even know Jesus exists.

But, Wednesday afternoon I got a call and was asked, "if you were offered this job, what would make you hesitate" and so I said, " I interviewed for a job at a church and I thought i would prefer that one, but at this point, its who ever gets to me first and I havent heard from them" and so the lady on the other end of the phone said, "Well, they are offering you the position."

I took the night to sleep on it, and by 8am the next morning I knew I wanted to take the cubical job.
I called the other job to let them know I was accepting a position elsewhere and so they could move forward without me, and was told the lady who had interviewed me had been sick but intended to schedule me for a second interview. Even after I had officially accepted the cubical job, the church job called and said theyd like to still give me the option of joining them and backing out of the other job.

After nothing for FOREVER, I had too much. Tempting as it was.. I wanted to be a girl of my word, accepting the first one I committed to. PLUS! On top of all that, I kept thinking about a conversation I had with the guy who owns a company called Seafoam. His company had given me scholarships all throughout college that helped immensly with college bills and I had asked why they felt the need to be so generous. He said it was his goal to get believers into the working world. By finding college kids who truly loved the Lord and then investing in their college education, he intended to get more believers onto the corporate mission field. And, as I thought of that conversation, I thought, he invested in me, hoping Id be reaching the non-believers in the cubical life. And so! That was another motivation for this job.

I start on a Monday, Oct. 12th. Im trying not to freakout about all the unknowns and such. Trying to take the last week of freedom and rest in God's goodness.

So, all of you sweet praying friends, thank you. My unknown future is vaguely less unknown.

September News

As September quickly says good bye and we look forward to October, I had truly hoped Id have good news to write about and share with all of you sweet people who have been praying for me for the last few months.

A friend of mine recently joked that I should be payed to interview, since it seems like that's all I do these days. True it is. Nothing to report on the job front, though. Had an interview Friday, I have another with a different company tomorrow. Assuming Friday's interview went well, there should be a second interview by the end of this week or next.

Waiting.

I feel like I've written about waiting so much lately that I have nothing more profound to say on the subject. However, I have learned things about myself the more I find myself needing to practice the whole waiting thing.

Somewhere along my walk with the Lord I began to believe that if I wait the one extra week and pray and tell all my friends how I was waiting and trusting, that The Lord would notice me quickly and hurry the process along.. like there was a magical formula for recieving what The Lord has in store for me.

I am rather a I-cant-wait-for-the-next-thing-to-come-along kinda person. I love the anticipation, I love getting to it. I am constantly finding myself saying things like, "Cant wait til I have this place in order" or "Cant wait til I have that part of my car fixed" "Cant wait til this interview is behind me," etc.

Im all up in the living-in-the-moment stuff. I love when my dreams come true. But I've found that I've come to look up at God and see Him as a guy with his arms full of stuff he's going to give me at just the right time and I just have to get to the next thing before He gifts me it.

But, there is a verse in the Bible that says, "He withholds no good thing from those He loves."
I have to catch myself in my thinking and remind myself that The Lord handed down for me a piece of time in which He said, "Here, this gift is called 'the unknown' and it has many different gifts within itself. This is the part where you look back on all the gifts I've given you already and figure out how you can use them to unwrap this one."

And it's tricky because you have to use the gift of thankfulness to even beable to see the gift of waiting in the first place.

I am thankful. And Im still waiting. I sort of wish I could say that Ive made good use of my waiting and have friended all the locals and have no want for socializing. Rather, Ive made use of it by turning toward the local library and reading three novels before picking up the GRE study guide.

Im studying for my GRE mostly online.. but the book will help, hopefully. Between interviews and such, I have not yet had time to open it, but Ive only had it a few days.


Also! I'm coming to like my new city. Good ol' Des Moines. It has its nooks and crannys and little pockets of adventure here and there. I explored a giant mansion modeled after a king's castle in England the other day. How one came to be in the middle of Des Moines, Iowa is a curious thing. Of course I asked, and the story goes that some man in a small house with a wife and 4 teenaged sons discovered and patented liquid foundation and other beauty products. The man became instantly wealthy and the wife, going crazy to be stuck in a little house with 4 teenaged boys, wanted a big ol' large house for the boys to run around and go crazy. Thus, they found the perfect house in England where all of their dreams would come true. However, that perfect house in England was occupied and so, doing what any rich, wealthy family would do, they replicated it in Des Moines, Iowa. 

I'm sure there are more details about my life that I could be sharing. Seeing as I had another interview this morning, I'm still in rather a fog and can't think of much. I will say, I rather like days that I wear a suit and blazer and all things corporate. It makes me feel like I'm doing something with my life. Hopefully someday, It will be for more than just the 40 minutes it takes to drive to the interview, talk about myself, and then drive home. 

Life updates of the Fern without roots

I think that I intended to blog a lot more lately than I have. Which lends to the need for an update blog rather than an emotional thoughts blog.

I think it is fairly safe to say I have settled down. At least, I'm fairly certain I finally obtained my goal of being in the same town two weekends in a row. What a mile stone! For the first time since, March of this year. My staying put was nothing glamorous or exciting, quite the opposite, actually.  Just me, in my apartment, with hours of Sunday afternoon stretched in front of me. I'm terrible at entertaining myself and I basically struggled through it, but! Goal achieved. Ironically enough, I'm currently back on the farm, working for my meals, as I've quite run out of sustanence back in DM and it seems silly to spend money on food when rent is coming up next week. A roof over head is much more costly, anyhow.

My other motivations for coming back were life things like, meeting a surgeon to have my shoulder examined to see what fixin might be done, lucky me, no surgery needed. My muscles, are simply stretched too far out and are no longer holding my shoulder blade up and my clavical bone keeps catching on the other bones, which lends to the most painful snapping, popping, sounds I've been experiencing. More shoulder strength exercises are all to be done.

No news on the job front, really. An upcoming interview this Friday! I'm only excited because this is the first interview I've acquired where I didn't have to call and remind the company I exist. I've quite given up all hope in truly obtaining employment, however, as it seems I shall simply be scraping by until my lease ends in May and then I shall move to somewhere else and reinvent a new life for myself. Being a young corporate employee seems overrated to me, anyhow. I'm much too proud to work a job that doesn't take a degree...I worked hard for that degree, after all. There were far too many thousands of tears spent for the right to have a job not equal to highschool level education. Far too many people look down on my current employment status for me to accept something low. Besides, I have goals that require funds, anyhow.

Which brings me to grad school. I never intended grad school during my time in undergrad. I hated the stress of studying and impending deadlines and requirements. So much stress. When my sister did her grad school during my undergrad years, I found myself consistently thankful that when I finished school, I'd be finished with school and I'd be spending my evenings stress-free, socializing like there was no tomorrow and staying out stupid late for the time I'd have to be at work in the morning. Thankful to be graduated I certainly have been. However, bored. Surprisingly enough, the world does not share my enthuse for a good party on a Tuesday night. In fact, my peers out in the real world consider themselves 'professionals' and they sleep at 10pm and awake at 6am. I did that in college when there were deadlines. Papers to write, meetings to attend and grades to achieve.

All that is to say, I'm going back to school. Currently I'm simply studying for my GRE. A 4hour long exam testing all that is important in life and if you score high enough, you are free to spend all your thousands of dollars on an education so the world will give you pats on the back. That's how I view grad school after sifting through jobs someone with a simple four-year-degree-from-a-prestigious-university can get.

Biblical counseling is my goal. I fully intend to do the ministry the Lord made my heart to want to do and if I'm so required by the world to make money doing it, so be it. Feel free to pray for my sanity as I attempt to relearn all the math I so gladly forgot when I told myself I'd never need math for my existence back in highschool.

I'm not bitter, really. Just frustrated that existence requires so much finances. And frustrated that all of the world's approval of my existence is so dependent on said finances. And topped off with the frustration that I seem to fall short in being wanted by the world by way of employment.

I guess you could say that the real world isn't half what I expected it to be. There are no parties or socials, and I wouldn't be able to afford them if there were. Perhaps I expected that all foundations I built for my life throughout college would apply everywhere and I'd be set to build and grow wherever. True it is not. But it is simply the discomfort of readjustment than an excuse for complaint. I have nothing of which I am not thankful, just frustrations over the things that are taking much longer than I thought.

It is a constant reminder that my identity fully belongs to Christ and not one single human has right to speak otherwise. I'm learning to put roots down only spiritually, and simply float everywhere else.

That is all of my life at this point. The tricky balance of chooses where to devout my limited funds and growing very dizzy holding my breath for jobs that I will not have.

Attitude is Everything

I have a lot of thoughts about a lot of things.

Phew!! This blog has been a long time coming. Probably 2 weeks at least. I've been opening my drafts folder every couple days for a while in a hopes of composing something brilliant.. But ya know... Good intentions don't always amount to good results, right?

So, I knew this was coming and some of my friends knew this was coming...but believe it or don't, I've grown a little fond of this little country bumpkin society that I felt punished with last fall. You may read back to those blogs if you like, but honestly, I didn't expect I would feel "home" here. And now that I've up and moved to Des Moines, it seems impossible to stay away.

I'm technically still employed here in Storm Lake. The office gives me hours enough to make rent and hold myself over until I find something solid closer to where I pay my bills.

But! There's something to this country living. Wearing boots, feeling macho as you carry two bales of hay at one time, eating garden fresh veggetables everyday and watching the sunset every night.

I hated it at first because I had no friends and I figured nothing could be enjoyed without friends. I have sense friended my gem little siblings who are basically 10+ years younger than I, but that doesn't matter. People often assume I'm only 2 or 3 years older than them and I don't mind.

Hicks. I never wanted to be a hick. Torn up, dirty ol' shirts, old jeans also ripped up, baseball caps and cowboy hats, boots and belt buckles. Totally not classy. Totally bum looking. Come on, people, at least dress up a little out in the public, you know? Heck, I was wearing maxi skirts and fancy shoes every day before I moved here.


Different worlds. But! Now that I've mucked a few stalls, fenced a few cattle yards, wrestled a few steers and hauled a few hundred pounds of grain, I've learned a few things about how these hick humans think.

First of all, you work hard. Physically, your muscles ache. You get a free workout better than any gym can offer because it's hours on hours of exorcise. Fencing takes two hours minimum. Chasing cows off the highway takes running speed, endurance, and than good arm and shoulder strength if your fast enough to halter them. Feed bags are 50lbs a piece. There's no build-up-to-it weight lifting, you just pick up the thing and carry it. Same with hay bales..they're probably only 30 or 40lbs...but if you need two of them and you really don't wanna make two trips to the cow trailer, you carry two of them. And you get all worn out and sweaty. So, the heck with lookin nice, you probably don't smell nice, so we try to look it?


Second of all, your clothes are gonna get ruined. If your fencing, you're gonna catch your clothes on the fence or the wire you used to make your fence or there's going to be a nail sticking out of something in the barn. So..holes are all the latest fashion. Rips are all the rage.

Another thing about farming is manure. In the movies, it's kind of a dry and chunky sort of material that some good looking farm hand is pitch-forking into a wheel barrow.
In real life, it's wet and slimy and soupy. "Mucking the stalls" gets it name from the sound your shovel makes when you lift it out of the...stuff. Think of muck and that's what you're standing in. So! Why wear new, trendy skinny jeans? Why not those cruddy flair jeans from 15 years ago? They even fit over your boots so all your mucking doesn't end up in your socks! So that explains why hick humans are stuck in fashion trends from my childhood. Skinny jeans sure look cute tucked into boots
and all...but the hems would be ruined for all the stuff that would get up into your boots. So that's
that.

Then there's the hats thing. Really, you do a lot of work straight up in the sun. It's hard to pound fence posts with the sun in your eye, so it's really practical to have a hat. Why not trendy sunglasses? Good question! Because of gravity. You see, when you sweat, sunglasses don't stay on so good. When you sweat and pound fence post, using all of your weight and muscle to come down on the thing to get it to drive into the ground, your sunglasses fall off of your face and land in whatever your standing in and will probably get stepped on by the friendly cow that it currently licking you up from top to bottom because you smell and taste like their pasture.

So then it is, why not wash and groom yourself before showing up in public? Well here's the thing, you take a lot of pride in all of your hard work and labor and sweat and toil. You earned every bruise and callus on your body. And since you don't get to call up all the humans to come over and admire your fence and fat cows, you kinda brag it off by going out into the public all dirty and bruised and still wearing your work clothes because in the farming world, 8-5 doesn't exist. Because if you shower, change, and go into town, and then come back and find that your cows are on the highway because the stupid black she-devil can stinkin jump OVER cattle panel, the time you lose by changing and preserving your clothes is way too dangerous. Cows are worth way too many thousands of moneys for you to worry about a pair of jeans when it the darned thing is about to lose to a semi.
So! Wear your stinkin work clothes out to dinner in case your back to work when you're done.

Plus, it's very accepted in this whole farm culture life. Everyone gets it. And the belt buckle thing? That's basically their way of being fashionable while not being fashionable. At least, that's what I've gathered. It's for show and pride rather than anything practical.

And being a human that had packed all the maxis and dress shirts away and made a life out of old
 for several months, when I moved back into the look -nice-all-day-err-day thing, I missed the acceptable tshirts life, just a little. Farmers are over it, really. At the end of the day, you really don't give a care about what you looked like or what people think of you cuz you stinkin made a 1000lb animal submit to your will.

So! All that is to say, being a psychologist, I know how plastic the brain can be and how it changes and adjusts easily, I accidentally became part hick and have a special sort of respect for country bumpkins that seem way outta the loop, fashion wise.

Not that I intended to blog about hick culture, but The Lord will go to pretty extreme measures to make sure your heart has no un-loving veins in it. So who knows but God why I had to learn to love and respect the bumpkins of the world, but speaking from experience over here, I strongly suggest you open your heart to all the peoples before The Lord decides that the best medicine for your darn
pride and selective acceptance is to plop you right in the middle of all the kinds of humans you like the least. And leave you there. With no friends.

You just watch yourself, punk.

So that leads me to this whole thing about attitude and work. Not that I want to admit it, but I have major attitude issues sometimes. The summer after my freshman year of college I worked at the farmers market selling honey for my parents. I, of course, judged all the hicks there and hated every second I was associated with farming. I think people only bought from me cuz I let them sample the sweetness of our honey, which probably made up for the bitterness of my pride.

I had a terrible attitude about moving out to the boondocks. I had a terrible attitude about being removed from all my friend humans. I had a terrible attitude about how The Lord chooses to act and
work out His careful plans and how He prunes our branches without taking into regard our opinions for how we think it aught to be done.

How any of my friends wanted to keep me, even over long distance, is beyond me. Ew.

But, the stubborn thing about the Lord is that He will give 70x7 opportunities to get your attitude worked out. And 70 x 7 chances upon each one of the fist 70 x 7 chances. Good luck not learning your lesson! Ha!


I've has quite a few opportunities to work on my attitude. Last week my siblings had to help clean up the fair grounds for fair and I got roped into helping because I was home early to work in the office the next day. We arrived a little late for when it started and we were told by a friend of ours that there was major 'tude going on all over the place. We weren't in a bad mood yet and I quickly called a huddle meeting with my little ducklings as we assessed the situation. After some chatting, we decided that the best way to fend off a bad attitude was to play it like we were having the best stinking time of  our young lives.

We got out on fridge and concession booth cleaning and w e went to town, chuckling at the black mold, being in awe and wonder at the mouse droppings in the refidgerator, and repeatedly telling eachother how great we were doing and how awesome things were looking.

We figured outer good moods might be offensive to the humans out there who hated their lives, but I think that only encouraged us all the more..knowing we had the power to have a good time out of dusting and catching spiders with our bare hands. People walked by and complained about the smell of bleach, to which we responded to eachother with high fives all-around for killing the mold. "Good use of bleach, Kolby! Killing mold saves lives!" "I appreciate you using bleach after those mouse droppings, good work!"

And the adults would walk by and observe us cleaning the fridge and, thinking we'd completely ignored the shelves under the counter, would point out the shelves and say, "the shelves need to be cleaned." We'd bleached them already, but for as many times as we were asked to clean the shelves, we always immediately complied and cleaned them again. Making sure they felt respected and heard. We bleached every shelf, underbelly and all, at least five times. It took at last an hour, but we didn't mind. We were really rather safe from the other human's bad attitudes of we kept in our corner and kept cleaning the same things over and over. Anyone at the fair can order 4H concessions in good conscious, knowing that the place was cleaned through and through.

One particularly grumpy lady made a comment about how we sure seemed to be in a good mood. "Of course!" We replied, "our parents taught us never to work with a bad attitude." She complained a lot less after that.

We really do have a good time. Everything we did was the best, funniest thing ever. And every complaint we took in was apologized for profusely with a lot of, "oopsie poopsie! How could we have missed that?? Thank you so much for pointing that out!"

Surprisingly enough, not too many grumpy parents stuck around to see if we did the job they wanted done. What shocked me the most, though, we just how rude the parents were. Rolling their eyes, complaining loudly about having to clean, treating people they didn't know with disrespect. I get that they assumed I was in high school, but either way...you shouldn't disrespect people just because you have a bad attitude. I hope I never teach my kids it's okay to be grumpy at strangers who didn't do anything to you to deserve it.

Me and Eva got the chance to practice our attitudes again on Sunday when we had volunteered to work a concession station. I had exhausted myself over the weekend and Eva had fair projects to finish. But, if there's anything we've been taught, is that, no matter what attitude you have, if you said you were gonna do something, you better do it. Be all there and be committed.

So we showed up and got out on filling drinks. "No worries," they told us, "it's been slow all day".
Now, I worked concession at Iowa Hawkeye football games, I'm a fast pace, high intensity, pressure kinda performer. I don't do slow. So! I moved myself off drinks and got on a register and started announcing all we had to offer at every human walking by. Next I knew, Eva was at my side doing the same thing. We pulled in a few customers and decided that method was working. Then we figured  out that between her cute face and my loud voice, we had something going for us. We made it our whole goal to catch any and every potential customer out there. We decided it was like fishing.

We complimented their shoes, we told them they did a great job biking so far and we expressed our care and concern over their hydration and hunger. "Have you drank enough water today?? You should drink more water!" "Sir, you look very hungry. Would you like a turkey filet sandwich? We can feed you!" Did we do that? Did we shamelessly bat our eyes and smile our best smiles? Yes. We did that. All our proceeds went to cornerstone for life, a pro-life ministry dedicated to saving babies. Amen, amen.

Needless to say, we had a great time, our attitudes were well adjusted, and we stayed two hours past our shift and were stilling pulling in hungry customers at 10pm, making well over $100 in tip money alone.

Good attitudes make for a great time.

So that is where I am now. Working on my attitude while I wait on the Lord's provision.

July

Has it really been a full year since I moved out of Iowa City? Yes. Yes it has. I just can't believe it. It's been the fastest and slowest year of my life. 

I'm still not managing to stay in one place very long. I keep telling my friends that when the day comes that I'm in the same place for two weekends in a row I will have to celebrate. Who knows when that will be, though? For me, a 2.5 hour drive is as natural as going to the grocery store. In fact, I probably do more of those 2 hour stints than I do buy groceries. 

I'm still hunting a job. You'd think I'd become less picky as time drags on and desperation builds up. But when I think about it, there are a couple potential ideas that I've simply ruled-out for the time being. 

Also, the more I wait on a job, the more I dream about grad school and finishing out my goals and dreams. However, waiting on a job means that my funds for existence are slowly dwindling down and grad school seems less and less realistic. But! someday! 

In the meantime, amidst job applications and cover letters, I've been on the move. Popping back and forth between my apartment and the farm. Honestly, I can't really say if I truly live in Des Moines yet. I'm getting better at the street names and one-ways and traffic, but I haven't found any thing that makes me embrace it altogether. 

We'll see though! I've only been here two months. And not even that because I haven't fully stayed here all that long.  All of my decisions lately have been on whether I should stick around here and grow some roots or keep living in the moment and run from reality. 

I usually choose to run from reality. I spend enough time with reality as it is. 

So that takes me to now. It's Friday! And I'm in Des Moines, believe it or not. I'll be on the road again soon enough, but for today and tomorrow, I'll hopefully be in one place. 

I've thought a lot about The Lord in all of this. I've sort of asked for prayer in finding a job. I've sort of placed my trust in the Lord's hand and direction as I wait for an interview or a call or some indication that I have a chance at employment at some point in the near future. 

Sort of. 

The funny thing about being a believer is you never fully learn all of the lessons on trusting the Lord the first time or even the second or third. Or maybe it's just me? I don't believe it's just me. 

I think, deep down, I'm trusting the Lord. Deep down I know the Lord will provide the perfect job and put in the perfect place.  I know that, which is why I don't worry so much, I guess.

But actually, I've been a little anxious. Well, really anxious. Mostly because of my pride being all squashed and tromped on. Humans my age are expected to be established and independent and having their life altogether. I don't. I don't have my life together and I'm not 100% independent and I'm certainly not established. 

But, I'm learning to accept such humble circumstances and not worry after it too much. 

Waiting, you know? Still waiting. 

The Hippie Life

In case you were wondering how Fern is doing since she moved, I've decided to volunteer the details of my life, of late. 

I like Des Moines. That might be hard to believe, considering I spend more time in my car than I do in my apartment, but I do. 

But I travel. Ever since I moved I've been back and forth between Storm Lake and Des Moines, Iowa City and Des Moines and Minnesota and Des Moines. It's a good central location to everywhere I go in my life. 

I got back to Des Moines today after 4 days away, and I shall be traveling to MN this weekend. Gracious. How is my life? Busy. It's busy and full and I'm ready to settle down. But, there will be no settling any time soon. Bless. 

I won't complain. I like to be on the move. I shall feel a little spread out. 

Actually, since moving, I've quite come to wonder who I am any more. I think I lost my full grip on my  identity months ago. I don't know me any more. When you move somewhere new you have the chance to re-write your identity, all brand new, however you want. And I don't know who I am any more, so settling down here has been a challenge. 

I became a "hick", I guess, while I was away. I began wearing boots and jeans with holes in them and hoodie sweatshirts and baseball caps. (I NEVER would have done that before). But it was what was practical for hauling fence, wrangling cows and chopping wood. 

During some of my down time working in the office I browsed Pinterest for ideas on how to have healthier hair. I mean.. my hair grows really slowly.. I bleached it blonde in December of 2012 and the ends of my hair are still bleached... that's how slowly my hair grows. 

So anyways.. .I decided I would become a hippie and see how all that life would be. The all natural, just eat some plants, don't wash your hair, brush your teeth with baking soda, sleep in the woods in a hammock even when you know it's going to rain and preach coconut oil like it was the end times. I felt more unaware of who I was when I was on that kick.. so I decided I'm not actually a hippie. I broke after two weeks and started washing my hair with shampoo again. (I still showered everyday.. just to clarify).  

I also stopped with the jeans and hoodies and boots. I'm not a hick either. Currently, I'm a water-bottle toting, tshirt wearing gym junkie. But not that junkie.. I don't go out of my way to hit the gym.. just as often as possible.. so everyday or every other day. But I don't know that I'm actually a gym rat either. 

Because my lifestyle doesn't really allow for that anyways. I'm on the road every couple days and I don't work out on vacation.. although I do seek out hiking trails and will hit multiples in a day if I can. 

But that's weird. When did I become weird? When I became lost I guess. But I don't know when that was. I think, though, I'm trying so hard to analyze myself into a box so I can then try to find where I belong, but I'm so many odd different things I need to plug myself in so I have an identity again. 

I need roots. 

I need to grow some connections and branches and fruits of the spirit is whats what. 

But, that is basically where I am for now. Not really anywhere. All over the place and hunting for a job. HOPING for a job. Wishing for a job.  That's about it. 

God says, "Know"

Sometimes I forget that I ever started writing a book. 29 pages is still like a child's short story.. but maybe someday I will actually finish it. It will be called, God says, "Grow".. I think. That's what I'm calling it for now. Mostly because all while going through high school and doing a lot of street witnessing with my youth group, I always thought about writing a book called, God says, "Go". And I had done lots of Bible research, finding all the places where God told someone to go. To act. To follow, to obey. He tells us to go. 

However, when I took a Perspectives class my Sophomore year of college and became SO discontent with my life as a college student as I spent HOURS a week learning of all the people who were going and doing and obeying God's call in their life and *I* was wasting my life in college, I realized that 'GO" isn't always the message. The Lord told me to go.. yes. But He told me to be all there. College. I was a sophomore.. it was not the time to drop everything and move to Africa. 

What really hit me in the face was when, as a senior in college, I sat down with a missionary in Nicaragua and began discussing what it would look like for me to FINALLY go and move my whole self over to Nicaragua and be everything I dreamed of being since highschool.. a missionary. Yes I want to be a wife and a mom.. but a missionary would be SO great too. 

Someone who had walked by and overheard my conversation and my potential plans to begin Spanish classes so I could move over there without too much trouble asked me, "Fern! Are you thinking of becoming a missionary?" 

And then I realized.. I already was. The moment I entered into the Kingdom of God and said, "Yes, Lord. I will follow you." That was the moment I became a missionary. My whole life purpose is to point people to Christ. And I am going and doing in a lot of different ways. Sometimes it looks like me having someone sit on my couch, sipping coffee, telling me about what they're going through and me speaking whatever words of Truth the Lord gives me. Sometimes it looks like me rocking babies in a church nursery. 

Sometimes it looks like me putting money in the offering plate or driving to pick someone up for church. 

Life as a believer is life as a missionary. It doesn't take moving to Africa or India and raising thousands of dollars to live without electricity on straw mats in a mud hut. 

So the moment I realized that I was living my dream, and "going" every day, I shifted my focus to realize that, "yes, God says Go. And we go. But as we go, God says, grow." 

Grow! Grow where you are. Grow where He takes you. Grow at home, grow at church, grow at Bible study, grow on vacation, on retreats, in pain, in valleys, in darkness. Grow. Just grow. Grow your roots so that no matter what happens, you don't washout. 

I've thought about my book a few times lately and the progress I haven't made. It's coming, I promise! 

But you know what else I've encountered that's true of God? 

God says, "no."  Hahaha.. I chuckle. I laugh at myself because if there is ANYTHING I don't want to believe about God, is that he says 'no' to something that *I* think is a really great idea. 

I had a great idea for my life sometime last fall. And I *refused* to pray about it because I thought maybe God might say 'no.' I mean, I know the Lord, I'm kinda figuring out what He wants for me, and I had this little bitty hope but I figured if I didn't say anything, it could be as fleeting as all other hopes and my heart would be fine. 

I even told the Lord, "Alrighty Lord.. I'm gonna pray about this. But I don't want to because you're just going to say no." Maybe I thought I could reverse psychology God? My stupidity never ceases to amaze me, honestly. 

Sure enough, it was as I thought, God said no. But you know what, I'm really thankful. I'm thankful that my faithful God is steady and true. I could kind of sense that my good idea might not be the BEST idea.. but sometimes I like to play the, whatever-my-heart-has-been-damaged-before-what's-one-more-time card. Like.. I'm a live in the moment person. I occasionally ponder consequences.. but I don't actually really care if the present thing seems really great. You know?

But God won't let us have anything less than what's best. I appreciate that. I appreciate that my future is more valuable than my present desires. 

God is good. Even when He says, "no." Especially when He says, "no"... ESPECIALLY. 

Because you know what? "No" can be one of the most loving things anyone ever says to you. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right? 

How many times did I have to say "no" to my nanny kids out of my deepest wish for their well beings?  But really.. if God said yes to everything, I wouldn't be all that convinced that He cared. 

Maybe when God says, "No" its sung on the same wave length as "Grow" and we can't actually distinguish what He said. "Grow, Fern. Grow."

When you're looking for a "Yes," or a "no" Maybe you should always prepare your ears to hear, "Grow." Because if He says, "Wait" He actually just said, "Grow." If He said, "Yes" He said, "Grow." 

And if He straight up says, "No. No way. No." He said "grow." 

Grow in your faith, grow in your truth, grow in love and truth and grace. Grow in obedience and compassion and selflessness. Just grow. 

And above alll else, prepare your ears to hear, "I love you." Because that's what He said louder than His other answers. He withholds no GOOD thing from those He loves. He knows the plans He has for you! Plans to prosper you and not to harm you! Plans to give you a hope and a future! 

Plans. Plans that require some "no." Plans that require you to be still and know. Know that He is God. 

Waiting

Step by step by step by step. 

I named this blog One Step at a Time because sometimes, that's all I can do. One step. One fractional, inch of a step. 

Some days trusting The Lord comes naturally, and sometimes, I focus on the winds and the rains and waters and I begin sinking. When Peter sank, the Bible says that "Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him." Immediately. 

Some days I feel like I'm sinking two days in a row. Or three. Or... a whole week..or month. I don't know.. somethings just feel... off. Where is the joy that is supposed to be so abundant and overflowing? Where is the peace? Where is the man walking on water who is coming to say, "Peace be Still." 
I find myself with the faith of the disciples some times. When I look out on the water I see a ghost. Jesus, my Lord and savior who I'd give my life to all over again.. just a vague silhouette on the horizon of  a great storm or windy, wavy, rough, unpredictable waters. 

When He seems like a ghost, it's really easy to look the other way. At the waves. At the rains. At the depth of the sea or the great odds that the boat is going to sink. 

I'm not one easily given to anxiety, but that isn't to say I'm not one given to anxiety. I am. Which mostly erupts in some sudden realization of how stressed or worried I am and then I just cry. I'll break down, cry a good hour or two..compose myself, sleep it off. And be calm for... who knows how long. It varies. 

I'm moved though. To a new city. New apartment. New streets, new neighborhood. Hopefully new friends. Hopefully new job. (A few things still in the coming.) 

Perhaps you'll remember that I have recently become obsessed with abandoned things. Houses and what-not. Cemeteries.. because those are abandoned bodies. I spend hours wondering after the lives that are no longer. Whatever they were, whatever they became. Whatever happened to make the soul leave the body. Whatever ever happened to the soul that left the body. I'm rather very curious. 

But I realized that part of the curiosity is stemmed from my own anxieties for myself. I'm easily given to believing false truths if I'm not careful to check it against God's word. So I'm easily given to slight notions of thinking *I* am abandoned. Or that I will be. 

I worry that I will abandon the life God had set for me and choose the wrong thing. And that the grand beautiful plans will sit desolate and alone.. much like the houses I find that are worn to the joists and covered in dust and aren't much more than an empty reminder that there once was life. Once upon a time. But the life has since left. 

When I walk through an abandoned house, picking out the living room or the kitchen or a bedroom, I wonder if the people who had lived there laughed. I wonder if they had been happy in that house. If happy things happened there. And I wonder myself if my life shall be happy. If it shall be marked by laughter and happy memories. Currently, yes. It has those things. Laughter and happiness. But if a house can have it and not, than probably my life, too, can have it and then not. 

As I wander in and among the countless gravestones of very young children and stillborn infants, I think about the life that never happened. God is in control of all things and I know there is no such thing as a child who shouldn't exist. But I wonder why they were here for so brief. And I worry that I shall never quite start my life. 

I feel like I haven't started my life. 

I'm like Repunzel in Tangled just, "Wondering and wondering and wondering and wondering 'when will my life begin?'" 

But the thing is. I'm not stuck. (I know that). I'm not held back. I'm nothing. I have all freedoms I could ever want or need. I'm just shy of a job. 

Perhaps its the lack of employment that makes me feel as though I have no current sense of purpose. 

I'm learning very quickly that it's not where I live that will make me happy, but what I live for. And how I live. And I'm bad at living. 

I'm bad at living with present purpose because I'm still hoping for a future fantasy. My little hopes treasured in jars of clay, waiting to be opened and lived. Sometimes I feel like I'm living. And sometimes I feel like I'm not. 

All in all, the Lord still whispers into my heart that He who began a good work in my will be faithful to complete it and carry it out until the day of Christ Jesus. But I'm rather an impatient person. 

I can just here my mother's words echoing in the background, "The goal is not the goal. It's the process to get there. Enjoy the process." 

Somedays I like the process, somedays I like the end point. 

I'm living in the future right now. I'm living for the day I get offered a job. I'm living for the day I will welcome my little brother home from the airport and be wrapped in one of his epic bear hugs. I'm living for this coming weekend with my older brother and a dear family friend. 

But I just wanna live. To be content. To be satisfied in the stillness. To be full in an empty house. 

That's all I want right now. My hands are open and my heart is hopeful.