This morning my prayer is that I would zoom out. Father, you've made me analytical by nature. You have placed in me a great ability to get to the root of problems and see past the initial "what seems to be." It is comfortable for me to stay in problem solving mode; I have developed a great friendship with figuring things out. But in the process, I have become critical. I have become an anxious mess that can't seem to disconnect from a job that you gave me. I am thankful for the challenge, but I have focused too long on the odds stacked against me. I zoomed in on each of those individual odds, all the facets and corners and dents and dings; the parts I understood and the parts I didn't understand and I lost the bigger picture. The bigger picture that sometimes you stack the odds against us so that you can show up and get all the glory. Gideon, Joseph, Abraham, David, Ester -- all found themselves in positions of facing insurmountable odds. Odds that you used to train, mold, and teach them. So, I will trust that in this time of what feels like insanity when all the odds are against me; that you Lord have placed them there. And that you Lord will walk me out of them.
I have prayed in the past to see the road ahead. I have asked you to show me the outcome of this road or to simple make the path clear to my feet. And it struck me today that you are not interested in if I can see the road ahead; only that I develop the faith to trust you when I can't.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
What for 2010?
Last year around this time, I started asking the Lord to speak about what 2009 would hold. He clearly spoke that it would be a year of change. At the time, the thought of more change in my life sent me into an emotional tailspin. He gently spoke for me to stick close to his side and I would be ok.
So, here I am teetering on 2010, and looking back, it seems I heard Him correctly. As I look back, I see: the ending of our Primerica business, a near nervous breakdown, a 900 mile move, a deep chasm between Dave and I becoming obvious, the deep chasm being closed, my mom is engaged, my sister is moving to Massachusetts, my grandparents have deteriorated mentally and may have to be moved into assisted living, two changes in careers (financial to welding and medical to retail management) and we put a contract on our first home. Needless to say, it has indeed been a year of change. I'm thankful for His warning; He knew I would need to hear it in advance, and that I would need to cling to it in the midst.
Looking ahead lies a new year, a new home, new friends, new ministries and new opportunity. I have never felt more united with my husband, more excited about passing days and more hopeful for a developing future.
I have begun asking the Lord what this year will hold and am excited for his answer.
So, here I am teetering on 2010, and looking back, it seems I heard Him correctly. As I look back, I see: the ending of our Primerica business, a near nervous breakdown, a 900 mile move, a deep chasm between Dave and I becoming obvious, the deep chasm being closed, my mom is engaged, my sister is moving to Massachusetts, my grandparents have deteriorated mentally and may have to be moved into assisted living, two changes in careers (financial to welding and medical to retail management) and we put a contract on our first home. Needless to say, it has indeed been a year of change. I'm thankful for His warning; He knew I would need to hear it in advance, and that I would need to cling to it in the midst.
Looking ahead lies a new year, a new home, new friends, new ministries and new opportunity. I have never felt more united with my husband, more excited about passing days and more hopeful for a developing future.
I have begun asking the Lord what this year will hold and am excited for his answer.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Painting Pictures Of Egypt
I stumbled back upon this Sara Groves song this morning, and it really speaks to where I was for the first 4 months of our life in Brenham. I am thankful that I am beginning to settle into our new life here and finding a deeper community than I have had in a long time. Listen or read the lyrics; I imagine everyone can relate to these truths.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSXciv06218
I don’t want to leave here
I don’t want to stay
It feels like pinching to me either way
The places I long for the most
Are the places where I’ve been
They are calling after me like a long lost friend
I’ve been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacked
The future seems so hard
And I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned
It’s not about losing faith
It’s not about trust
It’s all about comfortable
When you move so much
The place I was wasn’t perfect
But I had found a way to live
It wasn’t milk or honey
But then neither is this
I’ve been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacked
The future seems so hard
And I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I"ve learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned
The past is so tangible
I know it by heart
Familiar things are never easy to discard
I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
Caught between the promise
And the things I know
If it comes too quick
I may not recognize it
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
If it comes too quick
I may not appreciate it
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
Monday, November 9, 2009
Overlooked
Do you ever feel overlooked? Here you are in the middle of a story about something you did, said, or experienced, and something you said apparently triggered a story for your supposed listeners and there you are suddenly drowned out by another's more important thoughts or feelings.
And something in you wants to rise up when they are finished and say something totally obnoxious..."so...ANYWAY...back to what I was saying..." But the proprietary nature you were brought up to embrace with such intensity begs to differ with your egocentric thought processes. And so you sit quietly honoring those in your midst.
I have felt this way many times in life. But as of late, it seems to be coming with more frequency. I am beginning to retreat in some settings into a safe shell of not speaking until spoken to. And when spoken to, I speak with clarity, brevity and fact. No time for emotion, just get the facts out so as to not face the awkwardness of interruption.
I question my pride in it all. Is it pride that wants to fight back for my place in the conversation, like the nine year old who can't wait to get to the grown up table at Thanksgiving dinner. Or a longing to belong? To be noticed? And if it is the latter, it is healthy? Or could it simply be the desire to be respected? Just honor the fact that I am speaking and don't be rude and interrupt. Enjoy my company enough to be interested in what I have to say.
I'm sure everyone has faced this irritation at one time or another. I am certain I have been the interrupter on many occasions. So I'm not really sure why I'm writing about except that it was heavy in my spirit and I needed to get it out. Thanks for bearing with me in love.
And something in you wants to rise up when they are finished and say something totally obnoxious..."so...ANYWAY...back to what I was saying..." But the proprietary nature you were brought up to embrace with such intensity begs to differ with your egocentric thought processes. And so you sit quietly honoring those in your midst.
I have felt this way many times in life. But as of late, it seems to be coming with more frequency. I am beginning to retreat in some settings into a safe shell of not speaking until spoken to. And when spoken to, I speak with clarity, brevity and fact. No time for emotion, just get the facts out so as to not face the awkwardness of interruption.
I question my pride in it all. Is it pride that wants to fight back for my place in the conversation, like the nine year old who can't wait to get to the grown up table at Thanksgiving dinner. Or a longing to belong? To be noticed? And if it is the latter, it is healthy? Or could it simply be the desire to be respected? Just honor the fact that I am speaking and don't be rude and interrupt. Enjoy my company enough to be interested in what I have to say.
I'm sure everyone has faced this irritation at one time or another. I am certain I have been the interrupter on many occasions. So I'm not really sure why I'm writing about except that it was heavy in my spirit and I needed to get it out. Thanks for bearing with me in love.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Factual Feelings
I feel so restless tonight. Dave is out at guys night, and I have to be on the road at 430 in the morning to Houston to serve coffee. Mind you, my OWN Starbucks won't be available for ME to get coffee that early, but I will be serving it to OTHERS. Good thing I have that whole Jesus heart thing going, righto?!
In any event, I digress -- you would think I would be happy to curl up in my bed, effectively stealing the man's pillow, turn the ceiling fan on high (because there is an endless debate in our home that it is hot, no cold, no hot, no COLD...it's COLD dang it And I like it that way!), and just go to sleep. After all, I am 6 hours from being on the road.
But nope. Here I sit.
I am in a position in which I don't know whether to laugh and shrug off the cares of my work world, or embrace them as a needed change. I wish for the life of me I could be a man these days. Albeit, not literally...that would definitely cause some problems in our little gossip hungry town and the hubs would be all too unhappy about the sudden change (HEY! Maybe then I could go to guys night, drink all the caloric beer I wanted, and still stay at 145lbs. HA! My luck? I would be the beer gut guy...)
Why do I wish I was a male at this point in my career? Because men seem to have the uncanny ability to separate. SEP-AR-ATE. <--see that's what they do.
They seem to look at a situation and are able to extrapolate the fact from the feeling. Whereas I, a daughter of Eve, am not. I look at the staff and think: "Hhmmm..she must be emotionally struggling if she just threw that Frappuccino in the face of an elderly lady with a cane and one of those shoes that has one sole fatter than the other." Rather than: " YOU ARE FIRED." <--man speak ... uuuuugghhh! (Maybe if I grunt, would that help? Tim Taylor type mannerisms?!)
In addition, I am also a bonafide (BON-A-FIDE) pessimist. I am learning to embrace this part of me as reality and yet cast it off as an awfully poopy way to view the world. Regardless (...or irregardless...) of my personal nature, shouldn't I be able to be definitive and factual? Indeed I can, but mentally expecting myself to just walk in and remove that part of me would be like cutting off my right hand. If I had no right hand, I would be ineffectual in writing down all the pessimistic stuff I have to say.
Alas, Lord, give me optimism. And give me the capability to SEP-AR-ATE the factual from the feeling.
In any event, I digress -- you would think I would be happy to curl up in my bed, effectively stealing the man's pillow, turn the ceiling fan on high (because there is an endless debate in our home that it is hot, no cold, no hot, no COLD...it's COLD dang it And I like it that way!), and just go to sleep. After all, I am 6 hours from being on the road.
But nope. Here I sit.
I am in a position in which I don't know whether to laugh and shrug off the cares of my work world, or embrace them as a needed change. I wish for the life of me I could be a man these days. Albeit, not literally...that would definitely cause some problems in our little gossip hungry town and the hubs would be all too unhappy about the sudden change (HEY! Maybe then I could go to guys night, drink all the caloric beer I wanted, and still stay at 145lbs. HA! My luck? I would be the beer gut guy...)
Why do I wish I was a male at this point in my career? Because men seem to have the uncanny ability to separate. SEP-AR-ATE. <--see that's what they do.
They seem to look at a situation and are able to extrapolate the fact from the feeling. Whereas I, a daughter of Eve, am not. I look at the staff and think: "Hhmmm..she must be emotionally struggling if she just threw that Frappuccino in the face of an elderly lady with a cane and one of those shoes that has one sole fatter than the other." Rather than: " YOU ARE FIRED." <--man speak ... uuuuugghhh! (Maybe if I grunt, would that help? Tim Taylor type mannerisms?!)
In addition, I am also a bonafide (BON-A-FIDE) pessimist. I am learning to embrace this part of me as reality and yet cast it off as an awfully poopy way to view the world. Regardless (...or irregardless...) of my personal nature, shouldn't I be able to be definitive and factual? Indeed I can, but mentally expecting myself to just walk in and remove that part of me would be like cutting off my right hand. If I had no right hand, I would be ineffectual in writing down all the pessimistic stuff I have to say.
Alas, Lord, give me optimism. And give me the capability to SEP-AR-ATE the factual from the feeling.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Dancing in the Distance
Why do I feel so distant from the Lord today? I've felt this way over multiple days, and its frustrating. For a while, I felt so close to him, His presence was obvious. And now, I feel like I'm in a desert again. These desert times seem to come without warning and I am left to wander around until I find His presence again. Yet, I know the Lord is near to all who call on him. I'm calling. Why the block?
I have been "fighting the enemy" for some time now. Learning the correct manner, mantra, and mode of how to fight a faceless enemy and emerge victorious. Last week, I did not follow my tutelage. In my temptation I did not sin, but I suppose somewhere in my legalism I am bound up in believing I did not succeed either simply because "I did not do it right." But in the midst of "my not doing it right" come heaps of condemnation, guilt, fear, and shame. And I recognize this as not being the Lord, but aren't our feelings deceptive?!
I choose this morning to lean on the words of Paul Tillich (The Shaking of the Foundations): "You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything, do not perform anything, do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted. If that happens to us, we experience grace."
I look on the horizon of these strange days and I see dancing. Dancing that will come. I feel it rising in my spirit. The dancing one I see will be me, dancing in a freedom that calls for nothing less than feet that can't help but bounce in the spirit of embracing a relentless love. I'm not there yet, but it is indeed on the horizon, and I am running for it.
- Am I calling with wrong motive?
- Am I forgetting some sin that I have not yet repented for? (Do I even believe that I have to repent for every sin before God will answer?)
- Am I simply unable to turn off the "coffee brain"? (This is how I now unaffectionately refer to what feels like a separate brain I have that is just allocated for work. for the visual at heart, I've found a little doll
who can sympathize with me)
- Should I develop some different method of reading the word?
- Should I relocate to somewhere out side my home so my brain engages that we are now "doing something." Get on the ball brain! We are workin' here!
- Do I need a business coach to help me organize all the responsibilities I now carry.
- How about a lobotomy?
I have been "fighting the enemy" for some time now. Learning the correct manner, mantra, and mode of how to fight a faceless enemy and emerge victorious. Last week, I did not follow my tutelage. In my temptation I did not sin, but I suppose somewhere in my legalism I am bound up in believing I did not succeed either simply because "I did not do it right." But in the midst of "my not doing it right" come heaps of condemnation, guilt, fear, and shame. And I recognize this as not being the Lord, but aren't our feelings deceptive?!
I choose this morning to lean on the words of Paul Tillich (The Shaking of the Foundations): "You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything, do not perform anything, do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted. If that happens to us, we experience grace."
I look on the horizon of these strange days and I see dancing. Dancing that will come. I feel it rising in my spirit. The dancing one I see will be me, dancing in a freedom that calls for nothing less than feet that can't help but bounce in the spirit of embracing a relentless love. I'm not there yet, but it is indeed on the horizon, and I am running for it.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Gideon
I don’t have the power. I don’t even have a clue. I don’t know all the answers. I don’t even know a few.
And if I were really honest. And the truth were known of me. It may sound a little funny. But this is what My prayer would be:
I don’t know what to do, But my eyes are on you, I don’t know what to do, But my eyes are on you, My Lord.
I lift my eyes toward the heavens. I tune my ear to your command. Help me boast in my condition. You’re the God and I’m the man
I know victory is yours. So my eyes are you.
-Jason Upton "Gideon"
And if I were really honest. And the truth were known of me. It may sound a little funny. But this is what My prayer would be:
I don’t know what to do, But my eyes are on you, I don’t know what to do, But my eyes are on you, My Lord.
I lift my eyes toward the heavens. I tune my ear to your command. Help me boast in my condition. You’re the God and I’m the man
I know victory is yours. So my eyes are you.
-Jason Upton "Gideon"
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The Halloweenie TRACT
So this morning, I was listening to our local Christian radio station and their topic was "how to be a light on Halloween." They were oohing and aahhing over a local church that is doing "Halloweenie." Basically, they are grilling hot dogs and handing them out with a coke, a bag of candy and a TRACT.
I emphasize the word TRACT because everytime they said it on the radio that is what it felt like to my ears. TRACT. BAM. Here's your paper. Accept Jesus. Now. TRACT.
So it got me to thinking why that method of evangelism is so abrasive to me. The thought that came to me was, "yes. we can hand out tracts all day long, but can we not also SPEAK TO PEOPLE?!" Now, I know these church members aren't going to just stand there silently passing weenies and candy to kids, but as a culture we have lost the art of conversation (raising hand, guilty as charged).
Now, let me interject I was slightly perturbed at this TRACT handout fest. But then it got better. A guy called in and suggested the following:
" Why don't you hand out a coupon at Halloween that says something like "Come to our church on Sunday for your candy bag!" Then you could get them to church and they get candy."
This is where I almost drove off the road. Literally I was gawking at the radio in disbelief. So again, as I am prone to do these days, I reflected on why this made me more angry than Halloweenie.
It boils down to relationship.
If we truely have the relationship we are supposed to have with Christ, would we finally be able to put away the gimmicks for a true relationship with others? A relationship that says: "This is my Jesus, and I adore him. I want you to love him too because He died for you to have freedom. I know the freedom he has given me and I want it for you too. But, if you choose not to accept him, I hope that we can still be in relationship and I can show you some small part of him in the way I love you."
Here's my beef: I love my husband. Dave has loved me when I am grossly unlovable. When my sin would warrant his being angry for quite some time and reprecussions that would be undesired. He loves me through my sin, through my temper tantrums, through the times when I intentionally punch those buttons I know will piss him off; He loves me deeply.
And I love him. But we could never love each other with the depth that Christ loves us.
Now, I don't expect others to madly fall in love with Dave the first time they hear of him. I expect that something about his character will draw them to him and they will begin a friendship of some kind. As they get to know him more, the depth and intimacy of the relationship will grow. And that is awesome. But would I ever had someone a piece of paper outlining all the reasons why they should love Dave? Of course not.
If I wouldn't write down all of my husband's good points on a page and hand it out with candy, (even though I adore him and think he is the best husband on the planet) why would I do it with the most important person my friends, co workers and neighbors would ever meet?! Doesn't the Savior deserve a more proper introduction than that? Doesn't this person's salvation warrant at the very least a conversation with them about how much Jesus means to us?
Which brings me to my final point: I realized in the car today that perhaps Jesus doesn't mean as much to me as I'd like to believe. I am guilty of not being madly in love with Christ. In fact, I think I've spent most of my life being mad at him (for no good reason, mind you.) So, maybe as I work on my relationship with Christ, fall madly in love with him and his words begin to become mine, then introducing him to others will be easier without the tract. This is my story...this is My Jesus...and He wants to be yours too.
I emphasize the word TRACT because everytime they said it on the radio that is what it felt like to my ears. TRACT. BAM. Here's your paper. Accept Jesus. Now. TRACT.
So it got me to thinking why that method of evangelism is so abrasive to me. The thought that came to me was, "yes. we can hand out tracts all day long, but can we not also SPEAK TO PEOPLE?!" Now, I know these church members aren't going to just stand there silently passing weenies and candy to kids, but as a culture we have lost the art of conversation (raising hand, guilty as charged).
Now, let me interject I was slightly perturbed at this TRACT handout fest. But then it got better. A guy called in and suggested the following:
" Why don't you hand out a coupon at Halloween that says something like "Come to our church on Sunday for your candy bag!" Then you could get them to church and they get candy."
This is where I almost drove off the road. Literally I was gawking at the radio in disbelief. So again, as I am prone to do these days, I reflected on why this made me more angry than Halloweenie.
It boils down to relationship.
If we truely have the relationship we are supposed to have with Christ, would we finally be able to put away the gimmicks for a true relationship with others? A relationship that says: "This is my Jesus, and I adore him. I want you to love him too because He died for you to have freedom. I know the freedom he has given me and I want it for you too. But, if you choose not to accept him, I hope that we can still be in relationship and I can show you some small part of him in the way I love you."
Here's my beef: I love my husband. Dave has loved me when I am grossly unlovable. When my sin would warrant his being angry for quite some time and reprecussions that would be undesired. He loves me through my sin, through my temper tantrums, through the times when I intentionally punch those buttons I know will piss him off; He loves me deeply.
And I love him. But we could never love each other with the depth that Christ loves us.
Now, I don't expect others to madly fall in love with Dave the first time they hear of him. I expect that something about his character will draw them to him and they will begin a friendship of some kind. As they get to know him more, the depth and intimacy of the relationship will grow. And that is awesome. But would I ever had someone a piece of paper outlining all the reasons why they should love Dave? Of course not.
If I wouldn't write down all of my husband's good points on a page and hand it out with candy, (even though I adore him and think he is the best husband on the planet) why would I do it with the most important person my friends, co workers and neighbors would ever meet?! Doesn't the Savior deserve a more proper introduction than that? Doesn't this person's salvation warrant at the very least a conversation with them about how much Jesus means to us?
Which brings me to my final point: I realized in the car today that perhaps Jesus doesn't mean as much to me as I'd like to believe. I am guilty of not being madly in love with Christ. In fact, I think I've spent most of my life being mad at him (for no good reason, mind you.) So, maybe as I work on my relationship with Christ, fall madly in love with him and his words begin to become mine, then introducing him to others will be easier without the tract. This is my story...this is My Jesus...and He wants to be yours too.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
You have more to offer
Over the last few years, I have been told that I have "so much more to offer." I have believed this statement because it was said by people who know me best, and who wanted to see the best of me come out.
However, recently, I have come to resent the insight. Not because of who was saying it, but more because I have been desperately trying to discover what "more" of me there is and how to pull it out and put it to use. And I have developed hamster syndrome in the process...round and round and round and round and round and...well, you get the point. Hamster.
Today, however, I was reading in Philippians and the words of Paul spoke to me so deeply. Something is awakening in me that has been dormant for what I believe to be the majority of my walk with the Lord. I can't speak yet to what it may be or what is awakening it, but something is coming alive. All I can say is that scripture is breathing life to my bones more and more with each word.
I recognized through reading Philippians that perhaps this "more" others keep seeing sparks of in me, isn't really me at all. But rather this Jesus I am learning. The "more" that will eventually pop out will be when I am living out of the fullness of Christ in me. It won't be me at all, but Him.
I wait in anticipation for the day when I step back, look in on my life, whatever I'm doing and stand amazed that it is Christ working through me. That the legalistic ways have fallen away, that the man-pleasing has subsided, that fear is dulled and I can finally see how much "more I have to offer" shining through.
However, recently, I have come to resent the insight. Not because of who was saying it, but more because I have been desperately trying to discover what "more" of me there is and how to pull it out and put it to use. And I have developed hamster syndrome in the process...round and round and round and round and round and...well, you get the point. Hamster.
Today, however, I was reading in Philippians and the words of Paul spoke to me so deeply. Something is awakening in me that has been dormant for what I believe to be the majority of my walk with the Lord. I can't speak yet to what it may be or what is awakening it, but something is coming alive. All I can say is that scripture is breathing life to my bones more and more with each word.
I recognized through reading Philippians that perhaps this "more" others keep seeing sparks of in me, isn't really me at all. But rather this Jesus I am learning. The "more" that will eventually pop out will be when I am living out of the fullness of Christ in me. It won't be me at all, but Him.
I wait in anticipation for the day when I step back, look in on my life, whatever I'm doing and stand amazed that it is Christ working through me. That the legalistic ways have fallen away, that the man-pleasing has subsided, that fear is dulled and I can finally see how much "more I have to offer" shining through.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Anxiety resolved
In my new position as the manager of our Starbucks here in Brenham, I am finding that my mind is consistently and unwelcomingly drawn to work. Gone are the days of leaving work at work...it follows me like body odor. Don't get me wrong, I am certain that once I get settled into this new position, it will be a phenomenal fit and I will love running a business. But for now, I am filled and haunted by a thousand "immediate" needs.
I'm making dinner for my husband and thinking about when my next supervisor meeting is and all I need to do to get that agenda ready. I'm driving to a friends house remembering that I forgot to tell the crew to do something before I left the store (and wondering if it is really important enough to call them about it). I'm getting ready in the morning and pondering how I can better deploy our partners to make the store run more efficiently. I'm trying to divert my mind onto something else, like a new book, and find that apparently I have two brains because one is focusing on the book while the other is still spinning over why in the world my district manager would make the decision he did.
My initial response is to get overwhelmed and to run away. Just disappear from life. High tail it out of here. Walk into the lake and never come back. Start driving into the sunset and start over somewhere else. Now don't get alarmed. I feel this way pretty frequently when I'm overwhelmed and anxiety stricken, and the most I've run is to literally go for a run or go for a drive (which after about 30 minutes, I'm tired of and wish I didn't have to get myself back to point A. ;o)
The anxiety sometimes is overwhelming; I just focus on breathing deep and slowing myself down. But then I sink into this exhausted slump. It's as if the anxiety has completely drained me and I don't know whether to go run or go to sleep.
On nights like tonight when I have reached my limit, I finally turn on Pandora, put on Dave's Bose headphones (that block out EVERYTHING and completely engross you in amazing sound, slight commercial there...) and I worship at the top of my lungs. I sing harmony for Darlene Zschech until my throat hurts. Tonight, Hillsong United and "Came to My Rescue" broke the stalemate in my mind and spirit.
I called You answered
And You came to my rescue and I
Want to be where you are.
In my life be lifted high
In my world be lifted high
In my love be lifted high
I want to draw close to the Lord, to the mercy, grace and peace that He alone can bring to the depths of where I am. My heart wants Jesus. Jesus alone. Ours is a relationship I am learning to embrace. A man I am getting to know in a new way. And though my intellect tells me I should just hand him my heart without reservation, my spirit is just beginning to allow him to touch the pieces of who I really am.
I'm making dinner for my husband and thinking about when my next supervisor meeting is and all I need to do to get that agenda ready. I'm driving to a friends house remembering that I forgot to tell the crew to do something before I left the store (and wondering if it is really important enough to call them about it). I'm getting ready in the morning and pondering how I can better deploy our partners to make the store run more efficiently. I'm trying to divert my mind onto something else, like a new book, and find that apparently I have two brains because one is focusing on the book while the other is still spinning over why in the world my district manager would make the decision he did.
My initial response is to get overwhelmed and to run away. Just disappear from life. High tail it out of here. Walk into the lake and never come back. Start driving into the sunset and start over somewhere else. Now don't get alarmed. I feel this way pretty frequently when I'm overwhelmed and anxiety stricken, and the most I've run is to literally go for a run or go for a drive (which after about 30 minutes, I'm tired of and wish I didn't have to get myself back to point A. ;o)
The anxiety sometimes is overwhelming; I just focus on breathing deep and slowing myself down. But then I sink into this exhausted slump. It's as if the anxiety has completely drained me and I don't know whether to go run or go to sleep.
On nights like tonight when I have reached my limit, I finally turn on Pandora, put on Dave's Bose headphones (that block out EVERYTHING and completely engross you in amazing sound, slight commercial there...) and I worship at the top of my lungs. I sing harmony for Darlene Zschech until my throat hurts. Tonight, Hillsong United and "Came to My Rescue" broke the stalemate in my mind and spirit.
I called You answered
And You came to my rescue and I
Want to be where you are.
In my life be lifted high
In my world be lifted high
In my love be lifted high
I want to draw close to the Lord, to the mercy, grace and peace that He alone can bring to the depths of where I am. My heart wants Jesus. Jesus alone. Ours is a relationship I am learning to embrace. A man I am getting to know in a new way. And though my intellect tells me I should just hand him my heart without reservation, my spirit is just beginning to allow him to touch the pieces of who I really am.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Everyday Conversation
Dave: So, um...which toothbrush do you use?
Dave: What?
Julie: huh?
Dave: Which toothbrush do you use? There are three here, but only two of us.
Julie: OH! Well, I use both depending on my mood. The green one has tougher bristles. And the blue one is more flexible. But mostly I use the green one cause it don't play. It's intense.
Dave:....riiiight... (eyebrows in mid air)
Julie: Should I blog about this?
Dave: Yeah you might want to do that.
Julie: Yeah, let me take a picture. You know what is funnier about this situation?
Dave: What?
Julie: There have been three toothbrushes since April...
God's will or our sin?
How often do we sit back and blame God's "plan" on our decisions? We make decisions that are not in alignment with his heart for us, not within the guidelines he has determined, and then when the consequences come we sigh with resignation saying "I guess this is God's plan..."
Sometimes I want to stand back and scream, NO. This is NOT God's prefect plan. It's the consequence of a sinful decision. Did God know it was coming? Yes. Can he work within it? Of course. But was it his plan? No. Our sinful decisions lead us down paths that lead different ways than we maybe had hoped or planned, but how can we walk the road of sin and then point the finger at God and say "You did this?"
It reminds me somewhat of Adam in the garden. He and Eve had just sinned, eating the forbidden fruit. Yahweh comes walking through the garden, looking for them. Respectfully, he asks Adam why they were hiding. And Adam all but wags his finger in the face of God: "..the woman you gave me..." Its as if Adam is saying its all God's fault that they ate the fruit. Adam passively suggest that if God had not given Adam his completion in Eve, then Adam would never have fallen from perfect unity with God.
We read the account and scoff at Adam's ridiculousness. We wish he had never eaten the fruit. Yet, we consistently do the exact same thing! We stare down the consequences of sinful behavior and look back at God assuming this must be his heart because 'here we are.' I am thankful for the grace he relentlessly extends to me, even in the midst of utter moral failure.
I am open to discussion on this one because it really has be somewhat baffled.
Sometimes I want to stand back and scream, NO. This is NOT God's prefect plan. It's the consequence of a sinful decision. Did God know it was coming? Yes. Can he work within it? Of course. But was it his plan? No. Our sinful decisions lead us down paths that lead different ways than we maybe had hoped or planned, but how can we walk the road of sin and then point the finger at God and say "You did this?"
It reminds me somewhat of Adam in the garden. He and Eve had just sinned, eating the forbidden fruit. Yahweh comes walking through the garden, looking for them. Respectfully, he asks Adam why they were hiding. And Adam all but wags his finger in the face of God: "..the woman you gave me..." Its as if Adam is saying its all God's fault that they ate the fruit. Adam passively suggest that if God had not given Adam his completion in Eve, then Adam would never have fallen from perfect unity with God.
We read the account and scoff at Adam's ridiculousness. We wish he had never eaten the fruit. Yet, we consistently do the exact same thing! We stare down the consequences of sinful behavior and look back at God assuming this must be his heart because 'here we are.' I am thankful for the grace he relentlessly extends to me, even in the midst of utter moral failure.
I am open to discussion on this one because it really has be somewhat baffled.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
True Friends.
My best friend sent me a package today. She lives in Alberta, Canada knows how much I love journaling. About a month ago we were talking and I had filled up one journal and had not yet purchased another one. It was killing me at the time to not have anything to dump in, and being the amazing friend she is, she decided to purchase one for me (of course, unbeknownst to me).
While this journal was en route to me from the great north, I had already purchased one for myself. I have officially determined the Brenham postal service still uses horses to deliver mail because, seriously, 19 days to get from a neighboring country? ....I digress
This would be somewhat an uneventful happening to the world except for the nature of the journal I got in the mail.
The one I purchased is on the left. Kristen's purchase is on the right. I am thankful for friends who know me.
While this journal was en route to me from the great north, I had already purchased one for myself. I have officially determined the Brenham postal service still uses horses to deliver mail because, seriously, 19 days to get from a neighboring country? ....I digress
This would be somewhat an uneventful happening to the world except for the nature of the journal I got in the mail.
The one I purchased is on the left. Kristen's purchase is on the right. I am thankful for friends who know me.
Am I missing something here?
Forgive me if my posts seem disjointed. I decided to start this blog for two main reasons:
1. I have roughly 20 journals from the last 5 years of my life. I commented on this to someone. "Really, 20 journals of pages, just sitting there for no one to read? What do you do with them? Why have them?" In the midst of my ponderings I recognized that while it was therapeutic for me; perhaps the literary therapy could reach out as well?
2. I sense that there will be a lot to reflect on in the coming months and why should I reflect alone? Thus we come full circle to the initial reason. AND, I have been thinking about writing for others for quite some time, what better time than the present?! Its a little like repelling off a mountain, heart pounding, saucer eyed, "holy frijoles" kind of moment if ya know what I'm sayin'. (I mean, seriously people, its one thing to spill out your innards on a slice of eco-friendly tree for only Jesus to see...but on here people can follow you...And as I reread that last sentence it sounded a little like I was pooping in the woods on a camping trip...watch out for the funny shaped leaves ladies and gents!)
I DIGRESS....
Back to being disjointed...I am going back through my journal from the last couple weeks and adding some things I feel are of value. So enjoy the mass influx of posts...or not (in which case you can learn to love them) and soon I will get to just regular posting. ;o)
1. I have roughly 20 journals from the last 5 years of my life. I commented on this to someone. "Really, 20 journals of pages, just sitting there for no one to read? What do you do with them? Why have them?" In the midst of my ponderings I recognized that while it was therapeutic for me; perhaps the literary therapy could reach out as well?
2. I sense that there will be a lot to reflect on in the coming months and why should I reflect alone? Thus we come full circle to the initial reason. AND, I have been thinking about writing for others for quite some time, what better time than the present?! Its a little like repelling off a mountain, heart pounding, saucer eyed, "holy frijoles" kind of moment if ya know what I'm sayin'. (I mean, seriously people, its one thing to spill out your innards on a slice of eco-friendly tree for only Jesus to see...but on here people can follow you...And as I reread that last sentence it sounded a little like I was pooping in the woods on a camping trip...watch out for the funny shaped leaves ladies and gents!)
I DIGRESS....
Back to being disjointed...I am going back through my journal from the last couple weeks and adding some things I feel are of value. So enjoy the mass influx of posts...or not (in which case you can learn to love them) and soon I will get to just regular posting. ;o)
A Strange Adoration of a Peculiar Object
Have you ever been doing something and realized that you have a strange adoration for something peculiar?
I embraced this reality tonight. As I was carrying trash out to our garage, I found that my husband had lovingly bagged some trash that resulted from him cleaning the garage. (I know; two mythical happenings all wrapped up in one beautiful black trash bag!) I digress…in any event, as I looked at this beautiful bag, I noted that it hadn’t been tied, and as I went to tie it, a sweet little white plastic hanger fell out onto the floor.
Much to my dismay, the bag was full of store-bought plastic hangers. Green and blue and white, ones with notches cut out so my sleeveless items wouldn’t slide off, plastic pant hangers with metal clips, and even some from my favorite clothing store (I am one of those “do you mind if I keep the hanger” people.) Imagine my horror as I began impulsively pulling the hangers from their untimely graveyard, and daintily hanging them by my dryer.
I stood back and smiled at the display - neatly hanging from the rack, organized by ‘with notches’ and without, pants or shirts. It is important to note that no metal hangers were rescued during this mission. They tried to escape by angrily latching on my precious plastics, forming a precarious hanger tree, one hanging on the other, hanging on the other, hanging on the other, but they were not spared. “Into the trash with you” I loudly and victoriously proclaimed in my best “Caesar of Rome” voice, my fist raised high in disdain. And away they went. As I proceeded to give the beauties a purpose to their lives by hanging my freshly dried laundry, it hit me…I have a strange adoration of a peculiar object.
(August 9. 2009.)
Me and Eve. A Connection
And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, "You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die." Genesis 2:16-17
And the woman said to the serpent, "We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, 'You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.'" Genesis 3:2-3
I can relate to Eve in the way that she added to God's guidelines for her life. You shall not eat of the tree became you shall not even touch the tree. I so often want to live life in a safe box of clear delineations and rules. If there are enough rules, life becomes very easy and the good/bad moral line is easy to see and easy not to cross. There is some comfort in knowing how close one can skate to the line and still be on "the good side." But as we mature and can 'reason like a man' the freedoms in Christ are ours to run through a moral filter. We begin to tackle the gray areas of "if a man has lusted, he has already committed adultery" and our need for a Savior becomes so much more apparent. With every misstep we are reminded of how much we truly can't do on our own, and how much his overwhelming mercies are new every morning.
I can also relate that when I am flirting with the enemy's lies how my Yahweh becomes Elohim (Yahweh being the LORD - the personal, intimate, relational name of God and Elohim being the "generic" name for god.) Suddenly my merciful, gracious and loving Savior becomes an impersonal entity with an unknown face and unknown ways. He is no longer Jesus of Nazareth; he becomes merely a god-spirit that I'm wandering through time and space trying to meet, understand or please. His heart unknown, his desires closed off to me until I fit every facet of my being back into the "good box." A box that is in fact of my own creation.
It is not until I'm naked in my shame and misery that Yahweh comes looking for me, and I again find myself in him.
And the woman said to the serpent, "We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, 'You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.'" Genesis 3:2-3
I can relate to Eve in the way that she added to God's guidelines for her life. You shall not eat of the tree became you shall not even touch the tree. I so often want to live life in a safe box of clear delineations and rules. If there are enough rules, life becomes very easy and the good/bad moral line is easy to see and easy not to cross. There is some comfort in knowing how close one can skate to the line and still be on "the good side." But as we mature and can 'reason like a man' the freedoms in Christ are ours to run through a moral filter. We begin to tackle the gray areas of "if a man has lusted, he has already committed adultery" and our need for a Savior becomes so much more apparent. With every misstep we are reminded of how much we truly can't do on our own, and how much his overwhelming mercies are new every morning.
I can also relate that when I am flirting with the enemy's lies how my Yahweh becomes Elohim (Yahweh being the LORD - the personal, intimate, relational name of God and Elohim being the "generic" name for god.) Suddenly my merciful, gracious and loving Savior becomes an impersonal entity with an unknown face and unknown ways. He is no longer Jesus of Nazareth; he becomes merely a god-spirit that I'm wandering through time and space trying to meet, understand or please. His heart unknown, his desires closed off to me until I fit every facet of my being back into the "good box." A box that is in fact of my own creation.
It is not until I'm naked in my shame and misery that Yahweh comes looking for me, and I again find myself in him.
Encountering...The Beginning
WOW! I'm blogging. Am I seriously blogging? I never thought I would do this, but here we are. And if you are reading this, welcome to the journey. I'm glad you're here.
I sat in silence glaring at my computer screen when the almighty "blogspot" demanded a name for this most public of journals. Cursor blinking, mind racing, face twisting in different directions as my heart pondered the most truthful way to identify this new venture. I glanced across the table and my eyes fell to a book titled "Encountering the New Testament." While it's simply a textbook for a survey class Dave was taking, its title stopped the twisting of my face and mind for an answer. And thus "Encountering" has been born.
I believe this time in my life will be one of encountering various truths. Truths about myself, about the Jesus I thought I knew, about what community really is, how to be the manager of a major retail coffee shop, marriage, and love.
And so, welcome my friend. I trust you will read my heart with the image of a baby bird. It's fragile, it's delicate, and in your hands you hold the power to give or take life. If handled gently, that baby bird will one day gain the strength and boldness to jump out of the hands that hold it and take to the skies.
I sat in silence glaring at my computer screen when the almighty "blogspot" demanded a name for this most public of journals. Cursor blinking, mind racing, face twisting in different directions as my heart pondered the most truthful way to identify this new venture. I glanced across the table and my eyes fell to a book titled "Encountering the New Testament." While it's simply a textbook for a survey class Dave was taking, its title stopped the twisting of my face and mind for an answer. And thus "Encountering" has been born.
I believe this time in my life will be one of encountering various truths. Truths about myself, about the Jesus I thought I knew, about what community really is, how to be the manager of a major retail coffee shop, marriage, and love.
And so, welcome my friend. I trust you will read my heart with the image of a baby bird. It's fragile, it's delicate, and in your hands you hold the power to give or take life. If handled gently, that baby bird will one day gain the strength and boldness to jump out of the hands that hold it and take to the skies.
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