How do you define vision? Heck if I know. All I know is I've been praying for it and when it comes, its like a flood from the Lord who wants us to follow Him.
"If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth." 1 John 3:17-18
"Jesus answered, If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.'" Matthew 19:21
"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27
The command is clear: Care for the poor. "Jesus never healed half-way" (Marshall said that - I'll get to him in a moment). So why, WHY do I think that ministry can't be all-encompassing, and why do I not find more opportunities to serve? Why am I so content to follow someone else's vision that really has no bearing on my calling in life?
No more settling. Praying for more flooding. Make it obvious there's more and the calling is elsewhere, not here. Easy to leave. Easy to uproot and easy to look people in the eye and tell them the truth - that I'm called to something else.
Praying for help. Have no clue where to begin. Jireh. That place next to it is for lease. Practical beginnings: ask for donations - college kids can paint the place, make it look modern and inviting. Shelter? Definitely a food pantry. Babysitting for moms who need to work and can't afford it? College kids who have random slots of time in their schedule? Just come by and be available. Teach the children the gospel as their moms work. Serve the mothers who could never otherwise afford it. Feed the children; give them spritual building blocks for thier lives.
Need help. Need prayer. Need donations. Need the Lord to empty me completely of myself. I need Him. Desperately. How do you follow a massive dream?
Lord, if you so desire, and if this is from you, then rush over me with peace (as only a flood can) and send people who can help, who have a heart for the same things. Who can affirm your call. Send people who have the vision to serve and care for the poor, widows, and orphans. Convict me of the selfishness that prevented You from working for so long. Thank you for Marshall, for Katie, for Fairfax, VA.
Take the dream and change it into whatever You choose. Hold me and I pursue You. Lord, please send your presence as enough. Psalm 114 says your presence is to be greatly feared, and to think that presence lives in me... Who am I? Humbled.
Send peace, dear Father. Send suffiency so its a miracle for which You are praised. Make it OBVIOUS that You had to deliver. Make it Yours. Take me away and make it all Yours, Lord. Bring forth dreamers who can change the world for You, too.
God, please send the courage that enabled David to kill a giant. That courage exists only from the God who is mighty to save and completely faithful. Whole. Entirely sufficient to meet needs as I follow your commands. Faithful. Trustworthy. Dear God, I'm giving this back to You, and simply praying for You to affirm and to guide.
and Marshall.
Lord, he knows more about life than I ever will. Deliver him from chains - break Satan. Smash Satan. Rip Satan away and hold Marshall through the questions, the withdrawal, the insecurity. Lord, for your Glory and Fame, set a captive free to serve You with his entire being.
You are Power and Might and Majesty and You deserve all the Honor and Glory forever and ever. Come back soon, please God.
I love You.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Old Friend - Intro
Part One - For the sake of accountability, I'm going to try to update this every Saturday with the journey to better know Him through asking these hard questions. Praying for Truth, every moment of every day.
I feel like I'm coming home to an old friend with open arms, somone peaceful and calm in the middle of cold, dreary weather. I've missed writing. I've missed the intimacy with Jesus that I find when I pour out life onto a page. There's been a lot of life lately. A lot of color, joy, beauty, and ugliness; the full spectrum of grays translating over into reds and orange and flowing back to yellow and soft hues of blue.
I miss a lot. I miss the students. It was like I was on summer break with them, which is actually kinda cool because I would've never otherwise remembered it was summer. And now fall - or is this fall? Its cold and wet and rainy outside. Kinda reminds me of winter last year... but I digress. And now I just ordered my material for small groups to the correct address (the joys of moving - finally), and those college girls are a joy. Loving them and living life with them is such a blessing; they have no idea. And on top of all the life that God chooses to give, He's blessed me with sweet relationships. Beautiful friendships that I treasure more than I ever realized I would, and friends who build me up in Christ and speak truth to me and with whom I can be completely transparent with no guards up, no walls. It's hard to switch in and out of worlds where no one really has time to see your heart, or understand your passion, or care about deep, below-surface-level community together.
Time. Its the one thing I used to have that does not exist anymore. And as much as I want to blame my job; as much as I want to get so frustrated that my workload gets bigger and bigger, quitting my job would only be a temporary fix, because before I know it, I'll fill my time up again with even more things that don't matter. I'll get really busy for the sake of "ministry," or whatever else it is, and miss my God all over again. So I label my life, place difference pieces as more important, more convenient ways to get to God, and still miss Him.
I am asking myself a lot of hard questions right now, and the journey is beginning to be intentional about taking them before Jesus and in spite of the uncertainty, knowing Him. I want to document this journey, and know that here, in October of 2011, God started the preparation for something bigger, and the vision for something greater than myself.
So please share it. Please know that its a joy and an honor to share this with you. And its a beautiful thing to have community here in Northern Virginia, where God has placed me for such a time as this.
But I ask Him every day, and search for answers every day, and the same activity goes on and on in my head and I look at the people around me every day and wonder what I'm doing here.
Am I really called?
Am I really just miserable in my circumstances right now and looking for a way out, and do I have the audacity to use the excuse of "ministry" as a reason to quit?
Do I really just miss God so much that I think ministry will solve my problems of spending time with him?
Am I so intimidated by what the world thinks of me that I'm really just too scared to face teh disappointed faces?
Am I scared of money, or the lack of it?
How do I know God, what do I do?
How is this time of molding and shaping something He can possibly use to bring Himself glory when I struggle every day to just spend time with Him?
How do I get to know my Jesus better, and love the people I work with, and love the students and be a good friend, a good girlfriend, a good daughter, sister, human being, when my life is swallowed by things I', not passionate about?
How can He possibly use that to His glory?
And why won't He just let me quit?
Hard questions. So I write them out and I process them as best I can, and I get back to work. And I drive through traffic every day, stare at a screen, and get back to them later when I have time.
What if I stay so busy to purposefully ignore the answers?
There's comfort in writing. There's comfort in knowing the voice of my God is still here, and His hands are holding me, even though I am the least of these. He has told me so many things lately. I'm learning to say "no" to over-committing myself. I'm learning to wait on Him and trust Him. I'm finding there's a huge difference between knowing God intimately and trusting Him. Intimacy feels safe, its this place of rest in the middle of the storm. Trust happens when the feeling isnt there, and all the comfort in the world can't seem to be found. I think.
He has given me so many words of truth: "I'm preparing you," "Learn to say 'no,'" "Know Me - simply just know Me," and my favorite: "My plans are best for you." He has the best plans for me, and all I have to do is trust that. Let this worry go. Let these fears of failing on so many different fronts be nailed to the cross of my Jesus and simply know Love, know The Way.
How do you become so desparate for Christ, for this massive blanket of supernatural love that you'd give up everything? I think what's worse is getting to that point but having no direction to follow. Give up everything, then what?
Where do I go from there, and why?
He is faithful to me. He is love and rest and peace to me, and He has given me writing as a gift to unwrap all these deep, dark, horrifying questions that I may not want to know the answer to, and one by one, begin to seek Him. Not what He can give me as an answer, but Him.
He is enough. He is the old friend to whom I am returning.
Psalm 107:43 - Those who are wise will take all this to heart; they will see in our history the faithful love of the Lord.
I feel like I'm coming home to an old friend with open arms, somone peaceful and calm in the middle of cold, dreary weather. I've missed writing. I've missed the intimacy with Jesus that I find when I pour out life onto a page. There's been a lot of life lately. A lot of color, joy, beauty, and ugliness; the full spectrum of grays translating over into reds and orange and flowing back to yellow and soft hues of blue.
I miss a lot. I miss the students. It was like I was on summer break with them, which is actually kinda cool because I would've never otherwise remembered it was summer. And now fall - or is this fall? Its cold and wet and rainy outside. Kinda reminds me of winter last year... but I digress. And now I just ordered my material for small groups to the correct address (the joys of moving - finally), and those college girls are a joy. Loving them and living life with them is such a blessing; they have no idea. And on top of all the life that God chooses to give, He's blessed me with sweet relationships. Beautiful friendships that I treasure more than I ever realized I would, and friends who build me up in Christ and speak truth to me and with whom I can be completely transparent with no guards up, no walls. It's hard to switch in and out of worlds where no one really has time to see your heart, or understand your passion, or care about deep, below-surface-level community together.
Time. Its the one thing I used to have that does not exist anymore. And as much as I want to blame my job; as much as I want to get so frustrated that my workload gets bigger and bigger, quitting my job would only be a temporary fix, because before I know it, I'll fill my time up again with even more things that don't matter. I'll get really busy for the sake of "ministry," or whatever else it is, and miss my God all over again. So I label my life, place difference pieces as more important, more convenient ways to get to God, and still miss Him.
I am asking myself a lot of hard questions right now, and the journey is beginning to be intentional about taking them before Jesus and in spite of the uncertainty, knowing Him. I want to document this journey, and know that here, in October of 2011, God started the preparation for something bigger, and the vision for something greater than myself.
So please share it. Please know that its a joy and an honor to share this with you. And its a beautiful thing to have community here in Northern Virginia, where God has placed me for such a time as this.
But I ask Him every day, and search for answers every day, and the same activity goes on and on in my head and I look at the people around me every day and wonder what I'm doing here.
Am I really called?
Am I really just miserable in my circumstances right now and looking for a way out, and do I have the audacity to use the excuse of "ministry" as a reason to quit?
Do I really just miss God so much that I think ministry will solve my problems of spending time with him?
Am I so intimidated by what the world thinks of me that I'm really just too scared to face teh disappointed faces?
Am I scared of money, or the lack of it?
How do I know God, what do I do?
How is this time of molding and shaping something He can possibly use to bring Himself glory when I struggle every day to just spend time with Him?
How do I get to know my Jesus better, and love the people I work with, and love the students and be a good friend, a good girlfriend, a good daughter, sister, human being, when my life is swallowed by things I', not passionate about?
How can He possibly use that to His glory?
And why won't He just let me quit?
Hard questions. So I write them out and I process them as best I can, and I get back to work. And I drive through traffic every day, stare at a screen, and get back to them later when I have time.
What if I stay so busy to purposefully ignore the answers?
There's comfort in writing. There's comfort in knowing the voice of my God is still here, and His hands are holding me, even though I am the least of these. He has told me so many things lately. I'm learning to say "no" to over-committing myself. I'm learning to wait on Him and trust Him. I'm finding there's a huge difference between knowing God intimately and trusting Him. Intimacy feels safe, its this place of rest in the middle of the storm. Trust happens when the feeling isnt there, and all the comfort in the world can't seem to be found. I think.
He has given me so many words of truth: "I'm preparing you," "Learn to say 'no,'" "Know Me - simply just know Me," and my favorite: "My plans are best for you." He has the best plans for me, and all I have to do is trust that. Let this worry go. Let these fears of failing on so many different fronts be nailed to the cross of my Jesus and simply know Love, know The Way.
How do you become so desparate for Christ, for this massive blanket of supernatural love that you'd give up everything? I think what's worse is getting to that point but having no direction to follow. Give up everything, then what?
Where do I go from there, and why?
He is faithful to me. He is love and rest and peace to me, and He has given me writing as a gift to unwrap all these deep, dark, horrifying questions that I may not want to know the answer to, and one by one, begin to seek Him. Not what He can give me as an answer, but Him.
He is enough. He is the old friend to whom I am returning.
Psalm 107:43 - Those who are wise will take all this to heart; they will see in our history the faithful love of the Lord.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Confessions
So I suck - completely.
Run-down of my days:
Include work - getting up at 5:50 to get ready for the day, fight traffic, and be in the office around 7:45. All day. Usually eat lunch at my desk, no big deal, it happens, stuff's gotta get done. Get off work and I briefly entertain the thought of going for a run before hanging out with students. Because if I'm honest, at any moment of the day, I'd always rather spend it with students - high school or college. Over work, exercise, reading, sleeping, eating, dating, whatever - I'd rather build relationships and love on the amazing students God has placed in my life. And there's joy in that b/c I was created to make disciples.
But I'm empty. I'm so freaking depleted and there's not much left to pour out when I'm not letting God pour into me. And the time, even doing ministry, selfishly becomes mine all over again when I have nothing to offer from b/c I'm not spending time with Him in the first place. And I'm so disgusted with myself. I know this. He isn't going to try to convince me to give up my time to Him; it should just be something I do because I love my Father. But I don't.
No, I work. A lot. And I drown myself in thoughts of "maybe I can still do both," and maybe one day I'll just be "Corporate Ellen" and these ideas penetrate my drives home and all I do is wonder and I act on nothing and my time is still attacked and I'm still running on empty.
The bottomline is I miss Jesus. I'm angry that I allow the time to become my time and its wasted away for things other than ministry and I tell myself I'd give this all up in a moment if God called me out of it. That would be so awesome. Perfect. Would make it so much easier to grow in Him, be His, have time for Him, etc. Right? Maybe?
Maybe not. I can't even give Him time now, so what makes me think it'll get better just because the title changes to something to do with ministry? Who am I fooling? I suck; I let my time slip away and call it God's when the reality is it's totally mine and I'm selfish and foolish, thinking I have something to offer. There's no one to blame but myself. Nowhere to point the finger but towards my own selfishness.
I know this:
1. Jesus has called me to follow Him selflessly and make disciples. Right now, its convenient to do ministry with my job and b/c its convenient, its becoming easier and easier to stay settled in that situation and not ask God to grow. Not ask Him to stretch my faith to something uncomfortable again b/c seriously, I just got comfortable and everything is so easy right now. I call ministry mine and forget it was His in the first place.
2. I suck at spending time with Him. I'm too selfish with my schedule and I'm getting burnt out.
3. I still flirt with my future being something other than what He intended for me. MPA. MBA. GREs. Grad school options everywhere. Imagining possibilities provides an escape sometimes and it leads to dangerous roads that bring Him zero honor and glory whatsoever.
4. I'm terrified that I'm stuck here in this complacency and I'll drown in it; I can't shake that terror, but I let it linger; control it, box it up, give it a name, tame it so I can at least understand it and not let it control me. Rationalize my reason for remaining complacent.
The reality is, I have been praying for an open door and it's been sitting in my inbox. And I know it and I've let it lie and finally, God's bringing me to this point where repentence and filthy rags are all I have to offer and there is literally no point in waiting around anymore. None. I have nothing to lose, because all the faith I can muster has only served to open my eyes to how wasteful I am with my time and how empty I am without Christ and I can't fix that without Him. All I can do is turn to Him. All I can do is ask for help. B/c I sure can't quit complacency on my own. And trusting Him is only going to bring me closer to His plans. That's all I wanted in the first place, back when I didn't have anything going for me then, either. Nothing's changed, I just allow myself to think it has.
I worship my time, and the options I have to spend my time on. I worship the idea of freedom, and relish the fact that if I really wanted to, I can pick up and leave and go anywhere. I worship my potential and the flattery of the world to tell me what my potential is.
I worship me and call it "ministry." I worship me and call it "time for God." I worship me and call it my blog, my facebook, twitter, "outreach." I worship me and call it a job that allows me to still do ministry on the side when in reality I have no freaking idea what surrender can be because I still worship myself.
Praise God for Jesus. And everything He is. Past, Present, Future. His example. His walk and His love.
Matthew 4.1-11.
Nothing to lose.
Run-down of my days:
Include work - getting up at 5:50 to get ready for the day, fight traffic, and be in the office around 7:45. All day. Usually eat lunch at my desk, no big deal, it happens, stuff's gotta get done. Get off work and I briefly entertain the thought of going for a run before hanging out with students. Because if I'm honest, at any moment of the day, I'd always rather spend it with students - high school or college. Over work, exercise, reading, sleeping, eating, dating, whatever - I'd rather build relationships and love on the amazing students God has placed in my life. And there's joy in that b/c I was created to make disciples.
But I'm empty. I'm so freaking depleted and there's not much left to pour out when I'm not letting God pour into me. And the time, even doing ministry, selfishly becomes mine all over again when I have nothing to offer from b/c I'm not spending time with Him in the first place. And I'm so disgusted with myself. I know this. He isn't going to try to convince me to give up my time to Him; it should just be something I do because I love my Father. But I don't.
No, I work. A lot. And I drown myself in thoughts of "maybe I can still do both," and maybe one day I'll just be "Corporate Ellen" and these ideas penetrate my drives home and all I do is wonder and I act on nothing and my time is still attacked and I'm still running on empty.
The bottomline is I miss Jesus. I'm angry that I allow the time to become my time and its wasted away for things other than ministry and I tell myself I'd give this all up in a moment if God called me out of it. That would be so awesome. Perfect. Would make it so much easier to grow in Him, be His, have time for Him, etc. Right? Maybe?
Maybe not. I can't even give Him time now, so what makes me think it'll get better just because the title changes to something to do with ministry? Who am I fooling? I suck; I let my time slip away and call it God's when the reality is it's totally mine and I'm selfish and foolish, thinking I have something to offer. There's no one to blame but myself. Nowhere to point the finger but towards my own selfishness.
I know this:
1. Jesus has called me to follow Him selflessly and make disciples. Right now, its convenient to do ministry with my job and b/c its convenient, its becoming easier and easier to stay settled in that situation and not ask God to grow. Not ask Him to stretch my faith to something uncomfortable again b/c seriously, I just got comfortable and everything is so easy right now. I call ministry mine and forget it was His in the first place.
2. I suck at spending time with Him. I'm too selfish with my schedule and I'm getting burnt out.
3. I still flirt with my future being something other than what He intended for me. MPA. MBA. GREs. Grad school options everywhere. Imagining possibilities provides an escape sometimes and it leads to dangerous roads that bring Him zero honor and glory whatsoever.
4. I'm terrified that I'm stuck here in this complacency and I'll drown in it; I can't shake that terror, but I let it linger; control it, box it up, give it a name, tame it so I can at least understand it and not let it control me. Rationalize my reason for remaining complacent.
The reality is, I have been praying for an open door and it's been sitting in my inbox. And I know it and I've let it lie and finally, God's bringing me to this point where repentence and filthy rags are all I have to offer and there is literally no point in waiting around anymore. None. I have nothing to lose, because all the faith I can muster has only served to open my eyes to how wasteful I am with my time and how empty I am without Christ and I can't fix that without Him. All I can do is turn to Him. All I can do is ask for help. B/c I sure can't quit complacency on my own. And trusting Him is only going to bring me closer to His plans. That's all I wanted in the first place, back when I didn't have anything going for me then, either. Nothing's changed, I just allow myself to think it has.
I worship my time, and the options I have to spend my time on. I worship the idea of freedom, and relish the fact that if I really wanted to, I can pick up and leave and go anywhere. I worship my potential and the flattery of the world to tell me what my potential is.
I worship me and call it "ministry." I worship me and call it "time for God." I worship me and call it my blog, my facebook, twitter, "outreach." I worship me and call it a job that allows me to still do ministry on the side when in reality I have no freaking idea what surrender can be because I still worship myself.
Praise God for Jesus. And everything He is. Past, Present, Future. His example. His walk and His love.
Matthew 4.1-11.
Nothing to lose.
Monday, August 15, 2011
College Senior
I don't know how you'll respond to this, but it needs to be said. It's been on my heart for a while.
We've all made mistakes, right? No one's perfect. No one's better than anyone else, so from the get-go, I'm acknowledging that this letter is coming from a heart of personal experience. I don't want you to learn these lessons the way I did, so don't think, please, for one moment, that there's judgement here, ok?
But look. Can I just say... What the hell happened to you? Don't you remember when you were on fire, ON FIRE, for theLord? Don't you remember the days when you would call me out on everything in such a loving way? Don't you know that person still exists somewhere; there's a girl with blind faith in God who knows the redeeming power of Jesus Christ in such a beautiful, innocent way so WHAT HAPPENED?! Where did you go?! Where is the boldness and the fearlessness that made people turn their heads and wonder about you?
You're so beautiful. So talented. I look at you and I see one of the smartest people I've ever met. Literally. You got the brains of the family and I'm looking forward to the day when I can call you and ask you for money because you're the responsible one who will end up taking care of all of us one day. (Don't worry, I won't totally mooch off you. Just kind of :) ) But you are so rich in talent. You paint effortlessly and see beauty and art everywhere. You have a heart for those who can't help themselves and you are tender and loving towards people who others don't seem to understand. And you're so beautiful. I remember being so jealous of you because one day, you woke up taller than me - so grown up and lovely, and that never changed. You were the one that had to grow up too fast and accept life as completely unfair at an even earlier age than I did, and I wish more than anything that I could change that. I wish I could have you here with me and tell you that life turned out well, and God's hand never moved from our lives and His plans are still becoming realities, even as we speak.
So I'm led into this: don't turn away. You know right from wrong, and you have a moral compass that is not of your own making, but from your God. Don't flick Him off. Don't look at your life and all He's brought you through and say that one little guilty pleasure is worth missing the most amazing relationship of your entire life. Your life is in such a crucial place; you're about to get everything you've ever worked for, and sweetheart, you've worked so hard. You've built so much and you're abilities to lead and positively influence others are not lost on anyone. They're there and its obvious. And your talent and your capacity to just look at problems and solve them is incredible and could it be that God gave you these amazing gifts for you to completely break down walls that ordinary, everyday human beings like me are never really going to be able to breach? You're freaking off the charts and you're about to throw it away so I'm begging you, I'm BEGGING you, please wake up and remember that your God didn't die for you to just have Him when its convenient for you and to let you pick Him back up when you're done with these favorite sins that will RUIN you. They'll destroy you if you don't turn away and give it all up to your Father.
I don't get it. You were always the one telling me not to waste my time with guys who didn't love the Lord and YOU WATCHED ME break because of those mistakes and YOU WATCHED as those relationships dragged my heart over jagged rocks and I guess I just don't understand how you could sit there with front-row seats to that horror show throughout high school and college and still think you can play with that same fire. Where did that voice of reason go? You're not safe, you can't just play with the devil and come away unscathed; his games are going to leave you broken and what I don't understand is how you watched it happen - and not just to me. To your other friends and relatives and you are still there in the middle of it all. Quit lying and hiding and pushing that sin to the backburner and dealing with it later. You're not winning this one. You're settling and you're going to be stuck and the devil is laughing his head off because he will permanently cripple whatever plans God had for you in the first place. YOU ARE LETTING HIM WIN, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!! DOESN'T THAT PISS YOU OFF?!!
Because it infuritates me. You're not the type to settle, and you, of all people, were not created to fail. But you are going to fail if you keep Jesus as your security blanket and continue your favorite little sins on the side. Because they're not little at all. They equate to the death your allowing to destroy your testimony, your walk, and your potential for Christ. Death is swallowing you whole and you freaking know it and you're letting it happen and I love you, I LOVE YOU too much for you to just sit away and pretend to not care.
I love you. I messed up too. And guess what? He redeemed me and God won. And now He's using my story to somehow bring Himself glory. He can do that for you too because NOTHING is beyond redemption. Nothing. It's never too late for you to give up and trust Him. It'll be raw and painful and really hard but it will be worth it. Oh, I promise Jesus is worth losing that familiarity and comfort zone for. Death is not worth it. You're not growing in Him. You should be, but you're not. You're dying away from Him, separated by this one comfortable sin you refuse to give up. So give up, please, I'm begging you to give up and come back and know the depth of your Savior's love and redemptive power. He gives better gifts than we could create or imagine for ourselves.
There's a man out there who will lead you to Christ and guard your heart and honor you and you won't be able to believe what it is you've been missing all this time; that God could create a man so perfect for you, so amazing that he is all the things you never even knew you needed.
Godly men exist. I promise.
I love you so, so much. I wrote a lot, but it's because you are so much more important to me than just an afterthought. This is all I've been wanting to say for a long time, and I hope I said it lovingly. Maybe I'm angry, but its only because there's deception lurking and I want to rip the blindfold off your eyes, but I can't be the one to do that. I can tell you how I ripped my own blindfold off and have never been the same, but you already know that.
You know that. I want you to live, not settle. Not die.
So all I can do is tell you my heart and that I love you and want you to know Him.
Good luck with everything this year.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Psalm 119:33-40
God is not silent. He gives hope right when I think there is none.
When the murkiness of my own mind begins to cloud everything He's proven to be true, He takes His words and wipes some of the dirt from my window so I can begin to see clearly that there's light outside, not a world of cobwebs where I live as a shadow.
He holds my hand when I come to Him needy, and lets me rant and rave about everything that doesn't matter. He gently places me on the ground and stands up to show me just how big He is and how small I am.
I am nothing.
He is Lord.
And then, in His majesty, He kneels down to me again, a child, and yet seeks after me to cleanse my heart of the impure motives in coming to Him.
Oh, Ellen, you want something from me? You want an answer, a distinct sign? You desire some tangible product from my bounty, so you come to me with this worshipful facade and expect me to be fooled and find you good enough to give a reward to?
Such a fool. Do you, child, still not understand who I am? Do you not understand grace? You live your life as though you need answers to survive, when really, every question has been answered for eternity through my salvation.
So I sit at the feet of this Great God as a child, humbled and in need of nothing but Him.
I find myself here now. Holding out hope in His Word, that He will speak to me through it. Through prayer, I will simply know my Jesus better, as a relationship that is grown and nurtured through intentional time spent with each other. That blind trust in Him will become more of a reality and I will accept that I don't need answers, I just need Jesus.
When the murkiness of my own mind begins to cloud everything He's proven to be true, He takes His words and wipes some of the dirt from my window so I can begin to see clearly that there's light outside, not a world of cobwebs where I live as a shadow.
He holds my hand when I come to Him needy, and lets me rant and rave about everything that doesn't matter. He gently places me on the ground and stands up to show me just how big He is and how small I am.
I am nothing.
He is Lord.
And then, in His majesty, He kneels down to me again, a child, and yet seeks after me to cleanse my heart of the impure motives in coming to Him.
Oh, Ellen, you want something from me? You want an answer, a distinct sign? You desire some tangible product from my bounty, so you come to me with this worshipful facade and expect me to be fooled and find you good enough to give a reward to?
Such a fool. Do you, child, still not understand who I am? Do you not understand grace? You live your life as though you need answers to survive, when really, every question has been answered for eternity through my salvation.
So I sit at the feet of this Great God as a child, humbled and in need of nothing but Him.
I find myself here now. Holding out hope in His Word, that He will speak to me through it. Through prayer, I will simply know my Jesus better, as a relationship that is grown and nurtured through intentional time spent with each other. That blind trust in Him will become more of a reality and I will accept that I don't need answers, I just need Jesus.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Dark World
So I'm sitting in Starbucks and it's humid. When you step outside you feel the heaviness of the air and the sweat just starts to curl your hair every which way. Though I really don't mind the curls. Don't mind the heat, I'm used to it. It's the heaviness. Like the air has a burden of its own, like the windows fog up just to give an even blurrier picture of the world.
I'm on the inside. Sitting in my Starbucks chair, journaling, lost in thought. Just had a brief conversation with Brandon where I got to laugh. Then my thoughts were caught in their heaviness again and I'm processing, running through things in my head and wondering what the world is coming to.
I went to a funeral 4 days earlier for my boss's mother. I didn't know her, though I would've liked to. But the only time I got a little choked up was when one of the daughters talked about how she thought she and her mother would be raptured to heaven together. And it struck me that the daughter was genuinely surprised her mother had died, rather than simply disappearing. I wonder if my mother will die or be raptured. I hope I'm raptured. I don't really know why I thought of that moment at the funeral home right then in Starbucks; maybe because I genuinely want Jesus to come back.
There are storm clouds and random shots of sunshine. The air conditioning causes the condensation to fog the windows and the people are blurry, except for the ones sitting in the cafe tables directly outside the store. They're smoking cigarettes and playing dominoes. Ben E. King is playing in the background. "Stand by Me." I danced to that song at a ball in West Point, NY. A long time ago. Seems like another lifetime, another world, another Ellen. I'm temporarily drifting back to the classic romantic notions I used to have of being in love and realize none of those thoughts really occupy my time anymore. Is that sad? Should I wish for the colors and the beauty again? The companionship? But really, it was all just an extrinsic show; the grandeur, and everything I wanted the love affiar to be was an illusion in the end.
Back to reality. One of the baristas is mopping the floor. Mental note to not slip as I throw my empty cup in the trash. I'm just the slightest bit cold. Safely back to my seat. I'm biting my pen and pouring my heart and soul onto the paper. My God, this is good. This is therapeutic and relieving, like a musician who sits at the piano and plays for hours, forgetting everything but the sound of the keys and the notes entwined. They don't even have to make sense, they just have to be there and he can claim them as an escape from reality. That's what writing can be, and in that moment, that's exactly what the words become. Therapy. I'm fervently writing, thinking, trying to catch my hand up to what my brain is saying and letting the last pieces fall out without having to make any sense whatsoever.
There are newspapers everywhere in Starbucks. Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Washington Post. DADT repeal. A right-wing extremist behind the Oslo attacks. Thanks, man. Lets give terrorists one more reason to hate us. A shooting in Austin. A shooting in China. The United States government standing by and allowing the country to default. Joblessness and increasingly bleak economic pictures. People call me at work and ask if we're hiring all the time. And I'm supposed to look forward to the future, to what God has planned? I wouldn't be surprised if I'm going to be alive when being a Christian in America is dangerous. This thought stops me mid-sentence and I look out the window.
I must be glaring. One of the men who was smoking has come inside and looks dead at me. "Are you alright, miss?"
Oops. Caught me.
Well sir, I'm currently sitting here wondering if the country I love and the freedoms I hold dear will exist in the next 50 years. Actually, I'm seriously doubting it. I want to one day be a mother and live out that biblical family modeled in the Bible, but wondering if it's even the best idea to bring children into the world anymore. I belong to a God who is coming again soon, but I'd be ok if it's in the next 5 minutes. People everywhere are dying and going to hell; celebrities, supposedly our role models, are OD'ing, our media is tearing apart the idea of the plutonic, biblical family, porn turns men into boys and women into sluts, extremists are committing acts of terror in the name of "god," kids are told to have sex for fun and not become emotionally involved with anyone, no one knows how to grow up and lead anymore, and our country is accepting every lie imaginable. The one truth that does exist is taboo; tolerate anything except the Bible. So no sir, things are not alright.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I just have a lot on my mind."
"Alright. You look like someone's out to kill you or something."
Great.
Keep journaling. Keep praying. Keep processing. The air is heavy and the entire world is in need of a Savior. Mankind is racing to the finish line as fast as they possibly can, and they'll use the technology, the cars, the politics, the sex, the drugs and alcohol, and any other shallow, unfulfilling lie to do it.
Breath, child.
There is Truth. There is a God who loved this wicked, sick world so much that He laid every perversion on His perfect Son. And that Sacrifice paid the debt for all the evil we can ever become and lives, committed to making those who believe more like Him.
Less like this dark world. It's not my home.
I'm on the inside. Sitting in my Starbucks chair, journaling, lost in thought. Just had a brief conversation with Brandon where I got to laugh. Then my thoughts were caught in their heaviness again and I'm processing, running through things in my head and wondering what the world is coming to.
I went to a funeral 4 days earlier for my boss's mother. I didn't know her, though I would've liked to. But the only time I got a little choked up was when one of the daughters talked about how she thought she and her mother would be raptured to heaven together. And it struck me that the daughter was genuinely surprised her mother had died, rather than simply disappearing. I wonder if my mother will die or be raptured. I hope I'm raptured. I don't really know why I thought of that moment at the funeral home right then in Starbucks; maybe because I genuinely want Jesus to come back.
There are storm clouds and random shots of sunshine. The air conditioning causes the condensation to fog the windows and the people are blurry, except for the ones sitting in the cafe tables directly outside the store. They're smoking cigarettes and playing dominoes. Ben E. King is playing in the background. "Stand by Me." I danced to that song at a ball in West Point, NY. A long time ago. Seems like another lifetime, another world, another Ellen. I'm temporarily drifting back to the classic romantic notions I used to have of being in love and realize none of those thoughts really occupy my time anymore. Is that sad? Should I wish for the colors and the beauty again? The companionship? But really, it was all just an extrinsic show; the grandeur, and everything I wanted the love affiar to be was an illusion in the end.
Back to reality. One of the baristas is mopping the floor. Mental note to not slip as I throw my empty cup in the trash. I'm just the slightest bit cold. Safely back to my seat. I'm biting my pen and pouring my heart and soul onto the paper. My God, this is good. This is therapeutic and relieving, like a musician who sits at the piano and plays for hours, forgetting everything but the sound of the keys and the notes entwined. They don't even have to make sense, they just have to be there and he can claim them as an escape from reality. That's what writing can be, and in that moment, that's exactly what the words become. Therapy. I'm fervently writing, thinking, trying to catch my hand up to what my brain is saying and letting the last pieces fall out without having to make any sense whatsoever.
There are newspapers everywhere in Starbucks. Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Washington Post. DADT repeal. A right-wing extremist behind the Oslo attacks. Thanks, man. Lets give terrorists one more reason to hate us. A shooting in Austin. A shooting in China. The United States government standing by and allowing the country to default. Joblessness and increasingly bleak economic pictures. People call me at work and ask if we're hiring all the time. And I'm supposed to look forward to the future, to what God has planned? I wouldn't be surprised if I'm going to be alive when being a Christian in America is dangerous. This thought stops me mid-sentence and I look out the window.
I must be glaring. One of the men who was smoking has come inside and looks dead at me. "Are you alright, miss?"
Oops. Caught me.
Well sir, I'm currently sitting here wondering if the country I love and the freedoms I hold dear will exist in the next 50 years. Actually, I'm seriously doubting it. I want to one day be a mother and live out that biblical family modeled in the Bible, but wondering if it's even the best idea to bring children into the world anymore. I belong to a God who is coming again soon, but I'd be ok if it's in the next 5 minutes. People everywhere are dying and going to hell; celebrities, supposedly our role models, are OD'ing, our media is tearing apart the idea of the plutonic, biblical family, porn turns men into boys and women into sluts, extremists are committing acts of terror in the name of "god," kids are told to have sex for fun and not become emotionally involved with anyone, no one knows how to grow up and lead anymore, and our country is accepting every lie imaginable. The one truth that does exist is taboo; tolerate anything except the Bible. So no sir, things are not alright.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I just have a lot on my mind."
"Alright. You look like someone's out to kill you or something."
Great.
Keep journaling. Keep praying. Keep processing. The air is heavy and the entire world is in need of a Savior. Mankind is racing to the finish line as fast as they possibly can, and they'll use the technology, the cars, the politics, the sex, the drugs and alcohol, and any other shallow, unfulfilling lie to do it.
Breath, child.
There is Truth. There is a God who loved this wicked, sick world so much that He laid every perversion on His perfect Son. And that Sacrifice paid the debt for all the evil we can ever become and lives, committed to making those who believe more like Him.
Less like this dark world. It's not my home.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Tonight
This week has been crazy, but so, so rich. Everything was guided by Him, and who I am that He would allow me to watch Him at work? Forgiveness. Healing. I don't understand it because I am incapable of both forgiving and healing on my own.
Tonight I feel ready for something huge to happen. This week, He told me "wait." Don't know for what. Wish I did. I wonder about missions, and how He'll work that out. When. What it will look like. I wonder about how long I'll be in Manassas. If I'm here for a short term or for good. I wonder about disappointing the people I respect at work; how they'll look at me when I tell them I'm leaving because God somehow opened a door for me to do ministry full time. What that will look like. The reactions. I don't worry, but as a people-pleaser, I wonder how firm I'll get in actually following through with leaving. Had an opportunity to tell my boss yesterday that I was passionate about student ministry and investing in lives. She suggested maybe getting my Masters in something religious, but still making sure I can pay my bills. I wish, sincerely, that I had told her I trust that when that door opens, He'll provide a way for the bills to get paid. But I kept my mouth shut.
Tomorrow, I'm going to Skyline Drive again. That's where the healing really began; He never stopped. I can't wait to be even more face-to-face with His beauty.
The students. The heaviness in their lives at such a young age. There's hope. You are a chosen people, held by your God. Claim His promise. I wish ... Well. I can't fix anything. I can love them and point them to the Father. The One who can fix everything.
I'm on my back porch. I got a grill for free from one of my former co-workers. It works. I cooked fish and made a salad tonight. By myself. Learned how to broil thanks to Google and lit my orange candle. Now the scent is whipping around everywhere from the breeze. My backyard is entirely green. Vibrant. I'm listening to the birds. Crickets. This place is my home, my heart, where He's allowed me to softly land after a hard run.
I wish I could describe tonight. There's so much peace in my life right now. I know that waiting will lead to an answer to something else. I know that the students are my heart, and my joy is to wake up and love them to my Savior. Because He loved me in my rebellion. I flicked Him off and He loved me. What the heck, what kind of crazy love is that? And here, He's provided all my needs. Broken my sin's curse. Placed eternity in my heart and gives me what I need to make Him famous.
What is this? How did this life happen?
Knowing Him.
Tonight I feel ready for something huge to happen. This week, He told me "wait." Don't know for what. Wish I did. I wonder about missions, and how He'll work that out. When. What it will look like. I wonder about how long I'll be in Manassas. If I'm here for a short term or for good. I wonder about disappointing the people I respect at work; how they'll look at me when I tell them I'm leaving because God somehow opened a door for me to do ministry full time. What that will look like. The reactions. I don't worry, but as a people-pleaser, I wonder how firm I'll get in actually following through with leaving. Had an opportunity to tell my boss yesterday that I was passionate about student ministry and investing in lives. She suggested maybe getting my Masters in something religious, but still making sure I can pay my bills. I wish, sincerely, that I had told her I trust that when that door opens, He'll provide a way for the bills to get paid. But I kept my mouth shut.
Tomorrow, I'm going to Skyline Drive again. That's where the healing really began; He never stopped. I can't wait to be even more face-to-face with His beauty.
The students. The heaviness in their lives at such a young age. There's hope. You are a chosen people, held by your God. Claim His promise. I wish ... Well. I can't fix anything. I can love them and point them to the Father. The One who can fix everything.
I'm on my back porch. I got a grill for free from one of my former co-workers. It works. I cooked fish and made a salad tonight. By myself. Learned how to broil thanks to Google and lit my orange candle. Now the scent is whipping around everywhere from the breeze. My backyard is entirely green. Vibrant. I'm listening to the birds. Crickets. This place is my home, my heart, where He's allowed me to softly land after a hard run.
I wish I could describe tonight. There's so much peace in my life right now. I know that waiting will lead to an answer to something else. I know that the students are my heart, and my joy is to wake up and love them to my Savior. Because He loved me in my rebellion. I flicked Him off and He loved me. What the heck, what kind of crazy love is that? And here, He's provided all my needs. Broken my sin's curse. Placed eternity in my heart and gives me what I need to make Him famous.
What is this? How did this life happen?
Knowing Him.
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