In Remembrance of Him

Blessed. That would be the best word to describe the richness of my life right now. I have many stories to accommodate this feeling, but I just want to talk about the wonderful time I had with my friends on Friday. 

We'd planned this for months. One of my most favorite things ever is to gather people together and talk about Jesus and encourage each other. I mean, small-talk parties are great too, but sometimes I just want to know what's going on in the lives of my friends and give them a place of peace and rest and a moment to step back and be encouraged. 

I like people too. The easiest way to make friends to is sit by someone sitting alone. I've collected 5 or 6 friends this way and they are very near and dear to my heart. One of these friends has kindly let me to use his back yard with a bonfire pit to gather my friends on occasion. It was at one of our gatherings in August when a couple of us determined that we should gather at least once a month and talk about our lives and encourage each other as the Bible says to not give up meeting together and breaking bread and remembering what Christ has done. 

So,here it was, October 25th and it was time to gather the friends together once more for the breaking of bread and remembering all the Lord has done. In a recent visit to my grandparents and parents' houses, I was blessed with many pumpkins and potatoes and tomatoes and carrots and one poor watermelon that never fully ripened. 

Well, the Lord has richly blessed me and with five potatoes, 1 carrot, 6 tomatoes, 1 small pumpkin, 7 apples, and that sad watermelon, I was able to prepare enough food (with the help of my roommates as well) and welcome people to feel at home. 

I didn't even make a dent in what I have been given and it was really like the Lord blessing the 2 fishes and 5 loaves of bread as there was plenty left over afterwards, even though there were over a dozen people partaking of the Lord's goodness. I am blessed with people to welcome into my home. I love that. 

I love to have my house full of laughter and joy and love.

For now it is back to the grinding stone. Back to reality of school work, papers, and take-home exams. I have a lot to look forward to this weekend with my parents coming and such business as that. Until then, there is much to get done. But I feel so blessed to occasionally have pauses in my life when we can reflect on what the Lord has done and take communion in remembrance of it. 

He Gives Strength

It was just before 8pm on a Friday night and I was safely tucked into bed and drifting to sleep in no time. I was awake at 4:30 that morning and off on my adventure shortly there after. I didn't really sleep on the planes and so I spent my morning calmly staring at whatever was in front of me which was mostly the tray that was attached to the seat in front of mine. 

Upon landing in Sioux Falls, SD airport, I was whisked away to a car dealership where I emptied my life savings into a hopefully-reliable vehical. For real this time, guys. 

I had a pleasant time running away and it was a needed dose of "nothing" to smooth out the ends of frazzled emotions. I spent my afternoon picking apples with my grandfather, working in companionable silence. Saturday was similar, studying some, baking pie, and then moving to help grandma process the apples as we watched college football. At some point grandpa came and fetched me for a walk through the woods as we observed what newly fallen branches would need to be cleared when time for such tasks could be found. Occasionally grandpa would point out a deer stand or paw print or some indication of the wild life inhabiting the woods. Once at the creek we stopped and listened a while and then observed the deer tracks in the mud and the beaver gnawings on the posts.  Grandpa  spoke of the pasture that used to graze the sheep and now served the horses and their need for open space, accept for the two that were getting too fat eating the grass and had to be moved and put on a diet. 

Upon returning through the woods and closing in on the house we observed a flock of over a dozen wild turkeys meandering through their front yard. Grandpa had us double back a little and push through the buckthorn and overgrown burr plants off the beaten path so as to come at the house via the road so as not to scare off the turkeys. 


And that was most of what I did. It was quite soothing and restful. Sunday morning found me at the breakfast table by 6:30am as I planned my route to get me to my parent's church by 10:15am. Grandpa and Grandma loaded me with all the fresh produce I could want and sent me on my way. After church I chatted with people seeking to encourage me and then went out to the Allie mansion to pick apples and explore the corn maze. 

Sunday afternoon found me cuddled under blankets and watching Tangled with the little ones. Afterwards we harvested pumpkins and beets and went "Squashing" with the extra ones. 
The parents left for a church function of sorts and my siblings and I mulled over the possibilities of the house to ourselves. We watched the fish in the tank for a while and then Kolby informed us all that we were boring and he was bored. Movies sounded boring and hide-and-seek did not interest him. I started listing off books to read to them to which Kyle and Eva informed me they'd already read them. All of the Frank Perettis were out as well as Ted Dekker and CS Lewis. I wasn't ambitious enough to attempt J.R.R. Tolkien and thus asked after Hardy Boys. Thankfully they had not yet indulged in such tasteful readings and I selected book 3 and we settled on the couch in a precious huddle.  As I read, Eva and Kolby  got out they're crayons and paper and illustrated the happenings as   Kyle just shut his eyes and listened. 

Ah books, infinitately better than any movie or TV show. 

At some point there was a tickle fight and I'm pretty sure I would have won had Kolby and Kyle not cheated and teamed up on me. Eventually it was time for bed and while I had somewhat looked forward to sleeping in the bed that I called my own for a lot of my life, my mother informed me that I would need to remake it with sheets. This, of course, is of no effort, but Eva was excited to suggest we could sleep in Kit's room on the third floor on account he wasn't home. I like the view up there and with Eva supplying the bed with her heat blanket and a few quilts, it was a pleasant sleep with the crispness of attic cold making the covers perfectly inviting and cozy. 

Monday was filled with car errands and a few more gatherings of harvest before hugging my sweet family goodbye and returning to Iowa City abundantly blessed with pumkins, watermelon, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, cabbages, aloe plants, fresh jams, apples and othe such blessings as that. 

After unpacking and strategically placing my pumpkins and gourds all over the living room and dining area, I readied myself for class and left the house once more. My route from my parked car to the building in which I have class takes my right past May's Cafe, which is like Saltine Central basically all the time. I decided to venture in for some hot chocolate and hope I see someone I knew and chat a bit. 
The Lord is so faithful because the first person I happened to notice was a girl who attended my Bible study last year and is super solid in her faith. To my great pleasure, she was very engaging in conversation and was just the encouragement I needed to head off and enjoy my class for the evening. 

It's been perfect. May's is now my new favorite place to go. It's crawling with believers and spiritual conversations happen so often in that little coffee shop, I'd wager a guess that God moved in with His pillow and blanket and will be staying there indefinitely. 

Yesterday after an exam I went there to kill time before meeting with some people. A lot of the cafe staff I met through my church and it's always a delight to settle down with your coffee and observe the various people conversing around other tables. A group of Salt kids studying together, Veritas staff meeting with students, Cru staff and leaders meeting with students, 24/7 interns typing up monthly update letters and EveryEthne staff sharing the gospel with Muslims. 

I'd settled down at my table with a Christian book but was quite sad that I'd neglected to take along my Bible, as that is my go to when I've got some free time. I was surprised to look up and see my roommate had come in to meet with someone and took a spot sharing my table. She, too, had forgotten her Bible and was saying she missed having it on hand just the same. No matter, there were plenty of Jesus-loving patrons happening in that coffee shop and I wandered over to the one's working on their math homework. Asking if I might borrow a Bible, my good friend Jake Dillard produced his own and I was thrilled to read it whilst sipping hot coffee and watching the almost-snowish rain fall out the window. 

I LOVE how the Lord provides community. I love how the Lord calls us to rest and provides a way we can follow through in obedience. I am blessed to know a God who recharges me and won't let me sink or fall or crash to a halt. I am sustained and preserved and cared for and blessed. 

Weary and Heavy Laden

I've been musing about running away to my friends lately. I really want to and I think I need to as well.. so I'm gonna. 

Although I wish I could run away forever, I'm only running away for a short little blip of time. My flight takes off at 6am  Friday morning. I'm flying to no where. Not any place warmer or more exciting or any bit more lively. I'm not going with friends nor will I have friends when I arrive. I'm simply running away. To a pocket of peace and quiet. To a quaint little farm where I will pick apples, bake pies, and wander alone through the woods. 

All my friends know me as an extreme extravert. The idea of being home alone for more than 2 hours makes me cringe and I often venture out to coffee shops and grocery stores in order to interact with humans and not die a death of loneliness. 

So the fact that I am running away from humanity, you may take it as a sign that things aren't going well in Fern's world. 
My life is not unraveling by any means, but every once in a while, I need to take myself out of the world and gather my thoughts and emotions before feeling okay and alive and dandy as can be. 

I think I love people too much. I try to take on the world and all its problems and strive to improve the lives of everyone around me. This is the part where I find out for the umpteenth time that I'm completely helpless at such a task and all I can do is feel a little defeated at the fact that my life is vastly insignificant. I overwhelm myself trying to make the world feel loved and I often come to wonder what is reflected about myself that no matter what I do, I consistently fall short in being able to make others to feel loved and valued and encouraged. 

I feel like it's something about me that my affirmation is not enough. And then I just want to give up. On everything. Life. Not in a suicidal depressed sort of way.. but mostly I want to give up this life where I'm failing at the one thing I want to do most and just run away and start over. To find someone who will accept my love and encouragement and stay there. Someone who needs me and won't suck the life out of me.

I can only think of the Psalm that asks, "Why are you downcast O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?" My life is not difficult or plagued with trial and turmoil. My walk has not been in a valley nor has it been in darkness. But I do hear the Lord calling to me, "Come with me by yourself to a quiet place and get some rest." He offered that to His disciples and He speaks it to my heart now. 
He woke me up a little after 7 this morning and asked me if I would like to spend time with Him. Yes, please! 

I'm going on a weekend getaway with Jesus. I'm so excited for it! I'm sure I will have much to tell when I return. :)

Don't Kick the Bucket

'"No really, it's different this time! I promise!" I tell myself that a lot. Basically every time I take up knitting again. I started in 8th grade. I worked on that scarf all the way through high school (Not consistently, obviously) and then gave up. I think I worked on it some Christmas breaks from college, but eventually it came off its needles, unraveled, and the tangled mess of yarn was tossed away. 

A year ago I made another attempt at knitting a scarf and, while it gave me something to do in Research Methods, that endeavor was also short-lived. 

Third time's a charm, right?  With out thinking, I snatched some yarn and needles off of a shelf at walmart yesterday, telling myself that this time is for real. I started last night and.. well, we'll see.

My Monday night class is my absolute favorite. My last counseling class of my undergrad and it's quite practical. The hard part, though, is that it causes me to re-live memories of relationships past (dating and friendship) and I usually tend to like to keep those memories buried in a box under 6 feet of dirt. 

I wrote a post called "Worth It" several months back that reflected on the female struggle with worth and being good enough. I've written on identity and how rejection does not define us or speak on who we truly are. I've written about being loved and pursued and desired by the creator of the universe and trusting in God's great plan for my life. 

But one myth that I've heard told a few too many times that seriously needs to go is that "True Love Waits." That whole stupid campaign was introduced to me when I was probably 12 or 13. 
I mean, "save sex for marriage" is good. Great. Tell people that. I like that one.

But what drives me nuts is this whole, "I'm waiting for my prince to come" or the date-one-and-be-done or whatever else kind crap out there that tells girls to wait on dating for the guy who wants to marry them and keep them forever and only date for keeps. It's a nice idea, but it's unrealistic.

I mean, I dated. Not for the heck of it, not for kicks and giggles. I'd never dated before in my life when, at 19, I stepped into my "first relationship" half panicked at the idea of marriage but feeling like I could handle it. I'd grown up watching my friends date and break up in highschool. Having a boyfriend just to have one and moving on to their next "one and only" as often as I switch vehicles. 

But when I started dating, I told myself, "But this is different. I waited my whole life for this and I'm not dating for fun. I'm going to date one. And get married. And not be heart broken ten-billion times." I've had friends do the same thing, date their first guy in college thinking they were in it forever, only to have it end in some heart-broken confused mess.
I mean, that's how I felt when mine ended. It wasn't like I hadn't prayed about it before hand. Prayed about it through out, and made SURE the Lord knew I was serious about it and wasn't entering into it to have it end.

I can remember praying, "Lord, if he's not my future husband, than I don't even want to waste my time." As if the guy asking me out was my gideon fleece. If I'm pursued, than God must want it to be forever. I was mad at God more than anything, I think. I mean, I put my heart in His hand and told him I didn't want to get hurt and I was only gonna date this guy if it was real. I TOLD God I wasn't about dating around. It wasn't my plan and I was above that. I was different. 

As if you can just tell the Lord things and expect that He'll be your puppet. I mean, there are a few out-lier stories of people who met in kindergarten, fell in love, only dated eachother, and blah blah blah.

That's a rare thing. Seriously, if you're gonna date, just expect that you're not gonna find THE ONE the first time around. Guard your heart. Thinking you've found your future mr. or mrs. Right the first time you date only allows you to let your guard down and emotionally attach with all the everythings you saved your whole life and when it ends, your once overflowing bucket of innocence and saved affections has been generously dumped onto that first relationship and all you have to show for it is an empty bucket. I'm not even talking about giving yourself away physically. I'm talking emotionally. 

And you don't even have to be in a relationship with someone to give yourself away emotionally. You can like someone and notice every little nice thing they do for you and how they ask after your day and compliment your hair and it makes your heart flutter, so you imagine they like you and that they want to be with you and you attach and your bucket is sloshing and splashing all over the place. 

Stop.  

You're not different. You're just more ignorant than the rest of us. Stop giving your heart away to your first relationship just because you can. Just because you have more heart saved up and intact. Unless there is a ring on it and some vow of "til death do us part" it's not forever. And stop exhausting yourself trying to make it last. As if that relationship was a dying plant and you take your emotional, affections bucket and dump it all over the thing trying to revive it. A dead plant isn't gonna come back to life just by putting water on it. You've probably already drowned it anyways. 

Relationships are messy. They're the most heart breaking thing. They're the worst. They destroy you at a the core of your being. 
And I'm not writing this because I'm bitter. I mean, maybe I am a little. I'm not upset that I ever dated and I don't regret that it didn't work out. I just get upset when I happen upon some newly paired off couple who think that their fresh buckets of emotions and affections are enough to sustain the relationship forever. I don't care if you're a believer or not a believer. You can pray that he's Mr. Right until the sun goes down but ultimately at the end of the day, God is going refine you through whatever fire it takes. 

Relationships are not bad. You just have to be careful. They're not something to be trifled with or taken lightly. Your heart is the most important thing you have. Take care of it. Protect it. And if you truly care about your significant other, protect their heart too. Protect it even from yourself. 

Relationships are wonderful and thrilling and fun and delightful. But, they're dangerous. Know that. Be warned. 

 Keep your bucket as full as you can. Stay close to God's fountain. Let what love that comes out of your bucket be on overflow of what God pours in there. Let it splash on those around you and let it water gardens of hearts in need of a drink. But don't tip it over. Don't wander away from God's fountain and hold up your bucket to some other person who wants to refill you by dumping their bucket into yours. You'll both become empty faster than you'll know it and that little love fern you started together is going whither away and die and you will be sad. You will be devastated and you will question all of your worth and life efforts. Because somehow you looked at your full bucket and compared it to everyone running around with not-so-full buckets and you believed you had enough to make it last. Enough to sustain that relationship. Enough to keep it alive. 

It's not. But don't be down on yourself when you discover that through experience and heart break. Just because your bucket got emptied doesn't mean the Lord can't fill it back up again. But, don't run off with it and don't kick it over and don't dump it out.

The Great Unknown

Coffee, Jesus, breakfast. 

That's about all the thoughts I had as I emerged from my covers and made my way down stairs Sunday morning. I think I also contemplated my life choices some as I considered the fact that I could probably have slept several more hours and been fine with it. As it was, the fact that I even slept til 9am in the first place is quite amazing. 

Being that in the last few weeks, the times I've gone to bed around 11:30, I have not been able to fall asleep before 2 or 3am, I've quite given up such attempts and find myself on all kinds of adventures til the wee hours of the morning. I mean, I pay for it when I wake up, but it's never so much that I feel like I'm dragging throughout the day or not functioning well. Perhaps it's because of the wonder that is coffee, but I'd rather be awake to experience my life than sleep through what could have been a good story. 

I had another full day Saturday. Women's retreat 8:30am-3pm. I spent some of my free moments watching swing dance instructions on youtube and doing my hair with a friend on account there was a swing dance to attend later. Then friends over for supper and campus prayer at 7. It went much better this time and I felt more joy in being there. I think I shall like to attend as many as I came. After that, I arrived at the swing dance around 9:40pm maybe and danced a few, chatted some and then admired the general splendor of what was probably an exciting party in the first hours of its existence. On account I'd arrived late, everyone was basically danced out at that time and so I think a little I was a little saddened at that and chose to look for fulfillment elsewhere, which is never a good idea. Such searching found me in Kalona at 11pm and while that was a refreshing step back from my other friend groups, I wondered at contemplating the motives behind my choices as I made my way home at 2 in the morning. 

I realized I'm running away from life again. I do this sometimes. Maybe even often. Lately it's been this whole time of the year where I don't like to stop and think about any memories that lay in wait to steal away my joy at my present life. I'm not about giving myself a chance to stop and think when I'm trying to fall asleep at night, so I'd just as soon stay out and be distracted til I absolutely have no awakeness left in me and my eyes drop shut the moment I pull the covers up to my chin. 

I'm running from the future, too, I think. I don't know what I'm doing when I finish school. I basic plan is to love Jesus with all my heart and go where He leads me. It's not stressful, but it is. I mean, unknowns. I wish I knew. But I'm glad I don't. I'm more stressed about known things than unknown things. I've been thinking on this a lot lately. I want to run away. My life is almost perfect now. 

I want to runaway before it changes and my heart breaks. I want to save this moment forever and run from what could happen to make it go bad. I want to leave now so that I'll always only remember good things and happy memories. 

Someone stopped me today and commented on how cheery I am whenever we interact. I was asked if my life is magical bliss all the time. Of course I responded that life has a lot of hard times in it,actually, but the joy of the Lord seems stay with me fairly consistently anyways. I was then encouraged to keep holding onto that and not give up hope ever. I like that. Can everyone just remember me that way?
If I run away now you'll always think of me as happy and cheery. But I know the Lord has more for me. As if my life was built to be rough and broken and consistently tried. 

I think I want to run away from what might be coming. My life is too perfect right now. So I can only think that something shall need to be ripped away or broken or seared or severed and ravaged and ruined quite soon. Not that God is a ravaging God, but I know that if I keep choosing to offer my life up to the Lord I shall only meet opposition and pain. I mean.. not from God but the enemy. God wants me to draw near and the enemy wants to chop off my legs so I can't walk anymore. 

I probably sound a little pessimistic, but life is not made to be consistently happy. Life was not made to be perfect and wonderful. Only death can be that. I mean, only a believer's death. But I get kind of sick of my life sometimes. I want adventure and excitement and everything crazy. I want my life to be crazy. 

I don't know what I mean by that, so I guess I should be careful what I wish for. I've been re-evaluating my life a lot lately. It's so tricky. I'm at this vague cross-roads where I'm so aware of my heart because I'm so surrounded by the most wonderful people that I want to attach to them and invest and pour out all that I have. But I hesitate because I know my time here is drawing to an end. Or is it? There is a lot of work to be done for the kingdom in Iowa City. There's much opportunity to see the Lord move. Part of me wants to stick around for it and not miss out on the great story that is Iowa City captured by the Lord. But the other half of me thinks the Lord may be calling me to some place else. Some different people. Something crazy and uncomfortable and rough and heart breaking and life shattering. Something painful and beautiful. Something awful and awesome. 

Something unknown. 

"You call me out upon the water. The great unknown where feet may fail. And there I find you in the mystery, in oceans deep, my faith will stand."

I want to be better. I say that a lot. But I want always to be more faithful, more consistent, more encouraging, more lovely, more kind. I want always to press onward to attain the prize for the race marked out before me. I want never to give up. I honestly don't know what I am being called to. What great thing the Lord has prepared in advance for me to do and now prepares me in advance to do it. 

I want to be faithful. I want to be so lost in the Lord's love that there is no way for me to wander out of His great woods. My concrete future is unknown to me. But I do know that it is good. 

A Vulnerable Heart

I can't decide if it's the change in the weather or the fact that the stress of social cognition exam suppressed my immune system just enough to let in a bug. Maybe it was being in different homes where the owners have dogs or perhaps the fact that the Lord has caught me in the vulnerability of sleep deprivation and raw emotions have given way to tears for several days/nights in a row. 

Either way, I'm stepping into my first round of illness for the winter time. I don't get sick often so it's not my favorite when I do. (It probably wouldn't be my favorite either way). I used to get migraines as a child and they were the worst. Once the doctor figured out it was nuts and caffeine and some cheeses, a year without those things helped them to go away. Now I'm a total wimp when it comes to headaches and head pressure. 

Saturday was a bit of an intense day. I volunteered to help open the concession stand early and informed the stand manager I would arrive at 6:37am. My alarm did not go off, but The Lord woke me up at 6:20 and, while I had to for-go coffee and breakfast, I managed to pull into the lot at exactly 6:37am. (That was a bit of a proud moment cuz I had no idea how long it took to get there). 

My original job was hotdog cook but I ended up on cashier. I like people and I'm getting better at head-math so I really didn't mind this at all. The customers were exceptionally mean this game (Don't ask me why) so it was a little more emotionally traumatic than usual. No matter, we believe the customer is almost never right and we do little to accommodate their complaints. 

I was let off early and arrived back home at 2:30pm to which I went straight to my room, kicked off my shoes and fell fast asleep. I didn't think about setting an alarm as most afternoon naps find me fully rested after 2hrs and thus was quite surprised when I awoke a little after 6pm and groggily remembered I'd agreed to start co-leading the campus wide prayer meetings with my friend Derek every Saturday night at 7pm. 

I love praying, but I hadn't attended CWP since my freshman year and thus wasn't sure I was really going to be co-leading my first time attending or if I'd just observe. 
I went with my roommate and we found ourselves in the little Danforth Chapel in with a small gathering of other students. 
We worshiped, we were taught things from the Bible and then the praying began. 

I don't think I could have really prepared myself for that even if I'd have known it was going to happen. I mean, okay, so I attended it freshman year and it was, like, 10 Koreans and 3 Chinese and myself. So of course I wasn't surprised that it was all Korean-style prayer (Which I love). If you don't know what that is, it's every body praying out loud at one time and you can't tell what anybody else is saying and so, really, you only focus on what you are praying. It's great because you don't have to worry about sounding eloquent or very "Christian". It's you and Jesus. 

When I walked into the little chapel and took in who all was present,apart from 2 or 3 international students that I didn't know, it was mostly comprised of my friends that I know to be rather soft-spoken and quiet. I'm not sure what happened other than one moment I was sitting their listening to Peter talk about God's plan through Genesis and the next minute prayers were being shouted and sang and fervently spoken with much sound and emotion. 

That's great, though. People pray like that. I imagined I would feel the Holy Spirit's presence overwhelming my being as such prayers were passionately offered up to The Lord. 

I did not. 

It's a lot of stuff to wrestle through on my own. But, I realized that people yelling quite terrifies me. Which was very odd... to find oneself in a strange sort of panic in the middle of a prayer meeting with all your friends. I felt so incredibly miss-placed in the moment. Of course my first thought was that I must not be a very good Christian is my own heart junk is causing me to feel out of place in the moment I should feel most at home. I feel like I have a lot of things to take before the Lord before I can adequately lead his people. 

In my heart, I want to be God's vessel of love and gentleness to everyone around me. I want to be so filled by the love of the Lord that when I interact with others, they can only ever feel loved by God. I want people to know they are loved. And I want my only beauty to be from inside spilling out. 

So when my heart is broken in a way that I am sick to my stomach and alone in my thoughts of loss of value due to the various things that have tainted me over the years, I can only believe that I am worth nothing to the people around me in those moments. Not that I think that's what they are thinking, just that I think I have nothing to offer because my heart is broken. I become frustrated and upset because the burdens of my life are too much that I cannot look to how I may come alongside anyone else because I can barely move myself. 

When they looked at me and indicated that it was my turn to speak and lead the people in prayer I honestly had nothing to say. I mean, words came out of my mouth and people prayed after them, but I feel very much like I failed. 

I've felt nothing more than out of place that last week or two. Or perhaps like a broken cog, causing all other gears to be set off kilter. I don't like the feeling, especially because I love my friends. But I feel a little guilty wishing to join them in prayer or being asked to help lead as I don't necessarily feel like I belong in such a group that seems "ahead" of me in their passion for The Lord.

Passion I have. But it's not a yelling, shouting, crying out passion. It is quiet and gentle and steadfast and slow burning. I feel like I should have a more expressive passion. I feel like I should have a louder passion. But I don't. And so I don't feel like I can lead those who do. As it is, I can only lead out of the vulnerability of my heart and any example I set does not fit with what they already do. 

My only conclusion at this point is that maybe I do not belong. My spirit wants to be gentle and quiet and soft-spoken. Perhaps there is room for both the quiet and the loud, but it's hard not to feel small when other's prayers are so big. 

Slowly but Surely

Goodness! Time sure gets away quickly around here these days. Today I'm nothing short of exhausted already. I knew I had to get up and work in the morning so sleep was fairly absent from my night last night and then I was at my nanny job at 6:47am. I dropped the kiddos off at school by 8:15am and arrived at my daycare job by 8:30.  I worked in the infant room today instead of my usual 2 year-old room and I quite loved it. It's been a while since I've gotten to hold babies and it was quite a joy. 

After work I came home and caught up on some readings before heading out for a walk with a friend and now I'm back to home work and studying for an exam as well as trying not to fall asleep. 

Goodness, how the Lord has been moving in my heart lately! I could probably write a book. Or maybe not. Honestly, I'm not fully sure what happened exactly. I went on a retreat with the Salt Company this past weekend and my heart is still trying to catch its breath. Every moment of it was filled with joy and some of those moments swept me off my feet and legitimately took my breath away. 

I've realized part of the trick of retreats. Being tired. People don't go on retreats to get any sleep.. at least I don't. Retreats are about being up til the wee hours of the morning with your friends and waking early and all sorts of things that make it so your emotions are raw. Oh gosh, I'm SO emotional when I'm tired. I'm more apt to feel loved by small gestures when I'm tired, which means I'm more apt to cry at them too. Unfortunately, say something mean or critical when I'm tired and my heart will shatter in an instant and I will cry myself to sleep. (You're warned at least). 

So, of course the Lord meets me in my raw, emotional state and knocks the wind out of me. That is not to say I live for the experience, but it's nice to know I'm not numb to life all the time. The speaker's message on idolatry was incredible and convicting and everything I needed to hear. On the last night, even while he was still giving his talk I knew I wouldn't have any sort of energy to stand up and worship God by the end of it. I didn't even feel worthy to stand anyhow. 

So there I found myself hugging my knees on the floor trying to absorb the love that God so freely lavishes on us when I felt a gentle hand rest on my shoulder. It was in that instant that my heart imploded (I'm pretty sure that's what happened anyways) and the Lord moved in with all His might. Had He been any more near to me in the moment, I doubt my human-ness could have lived to tell of it. I'm quite convinced that if I were to actually experience His full glory I would be killed dead right then and there. 

As it was, He gave me a taste of Him and my heart swelled so big my lungs had no room. Between that and the water fountain that became of my eyes, I'm sure He was quite understanding of why I was not singing my worship like many others in the room. But, He gets me. He knows I like to worship him from the ground anyways. So me and Jesus shared a moment. And it took me 2 hours at least to breathe normally again. Still, though, my heart summersaults and dances at the thought of Jesus. Dang, He loves me. 

Someone recently asked me the question, "How do you know God is real?" What a great question! I've thought about that possibility. Of Him not being real. But, it wouldn't make sense. I mean, I don't know how else to explain that I have had peace in some of the craziest times. I have felt loved in the deepest darkest broken-est moments of my life. I have had joy when I should have been depressed and I have had life more full than anything I knew prior to inviting the Lord to change my heart. Pain in my heart is no longer a thing of permanence and bitter is only a word I use to describe my coffee on occasion. 

I don't think it's really a matter of explain how God is real. The real trick would to be to explain my life if God wasn't real. I am loved. And I feel it down to the core of my being. And only God can fit through the cracks of my heart well enough to reach that far down.

I have friends who don't know Jesus the way I do. I wish they did. I wish they just knew what joy and life there is to be had. I wish they knew how loved they were. I wish I was better at letting them know of it. I mean, I just don't know how to reach them in the places that need to be reached and I don't know how to love them well enough. But I'm learning to surrender to that. Slowly but surely.