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.
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