Like the Birds

A few weekends ago, I sat in the theater with a few friends watching the latest Harry Potter movie.

The opening scene showed a family of friends gathered together for one purpose: to protect Harry.  Out of love, honor, and duty, they were risking their lives to protect their only hope in conquering evil.  It may appear unrelated, but seeing so many willing to sacrifice themselves for Harry seemed like a realistic comparison to our relationship with God.

We give ourselves to Him; we love Him, we protect Him, some do sacrifice their lives for Him.  We should all be so in love with God that dying for Him should be easy, but honestly, I struggle.  God knows this about me.

So over the last two months He has constantly been presenting to me the theme of sacrifice.  The occurrences have been countless!  First, I received a free book in the mail on martyrs from Crosswalk.  I failed in acknowledging its message, leaving it to gather dust.  No care or concern did I have for martyrs then.  So God pressed on.

It was the weekend at the retreat, He brought into my life a personal story of sacrifice.  Finally, I was enticed by what it meant to live selflessly, to die selflessly, to surrender for God.

Mario, the young pastor who led worship on the retreat, spoke of his family’s history.  By candle light, the tears in his eyes were obvious as he recollected the story of the people he knew as a child.  His parents housed missionaries, and almost memorable family was that of the Birds.

The day came while they were in another country. Guerillas ordered Mr. Bird to cease his teaching.  With Mr. Bird’s refusal, the guerillas marched the family outside.  As they lined up the father, mother, and two children, they told Mr. Bird the cost of his continued teaching would be the lives of his family.

They surrendered their lives that day to follow God.  That story reached to the selfish corners of my heart and begged for deeper consideration.

It was weeks later that I visited a friend at the hospital.  As our visit came to the end, as I passed the corridor to leave, there, to my left, was a Blessing Jar.  Gingerly, I plucked a paper square from the glass.  I couldn’t have imagined the magnitude of the message:

Many months have passed with God repeating this message of sacrifice.  In those months preceding this very moment, God was diligently trying to prepare my mind for the coming sacrifice He knew I’d be facing.  As the author of my life, He saw how I would hurt.  He has been caressing my heart every day to both shield it from old pain and open it to new love—His love.  He has been preparing my mind, hardening my heart, and filling the empty spots inside of me.

In a book by Lysa TerKeurst, she writes:

God can use the empty places in your life to draw your heart to Him.  Recognize each sad moment as a call to draw near to the Lord.  I thank Him for the empty places, for they remind me that only He has the ability to fill me completely.

God finds us in emptiness.  When we are empty, it is His love that holds us—the only thing that holds us.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.  You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart (Jeremiah 29:11-13).

God, it is my prayer now that You help me to sacrifice to You.  As a friend says, please let me die to myself.  Let me die daily, hourly, minute by minute, and by the second.  Replace my needs with Your will, and let me follow You.  Let me love You so deeply and let me refuse to be selfish.  Please keep showing me, because I am ready to consciously acknowledge Your hand in my life.  I thank You for the empty places, thank You for Your love.

A New JB

I just finished having coffee with a new girl friend.

It is such a good feeling to just “click” with somebody and know that they understand you.

For the first time in two weeks I’m actually feeling good.

Thank you God for bringing such wonderful people into my life, and for giving me such a feeling of peace.  You are a wonderful God.

Unmatchable Messages

Most of the time, I don’t have difficulty understanding God’s message for me.  However, the last few weeks have me stumped.

It began on a Friday afternoon as I was filing papers at work.  As I shuffled through papers, I heard a customer approach.  In a gruff voice, he asked my coworker, “Who do I need to speak to, to add my wife to my account?”

I glanced up to see Hal.  Oh, Hal.

Every once in a while Hal pops up.  Hal, the last guy I dated off of my Match.com stint, is now married.  In the two years since I’ve seen him, he found love and committed himself.  Happy for him?  Sure.  Why did God choose to bring him into my life at that moment?  Not sure.

As I sat awkwardly avoiding his gaze, I wondered to God, “What are you showing me?”

When he and his wife finished updating his account, they walked passed me.  I avoided all interaction, but my coworker said he glanced at me twice, recognizing a familiarity.

I thought that would be the end of peculiarity, but I experienced it once again on Christmas Eve.

My friend and I stood listening to the beautiful music Fellowship Church orchestrated.  I admired the atmosphere, the people, the chorus, the band—the band?!

As my eyes perused the stage, I saw Michael.  Oh, Michael.  Oh goodness.  There, playing the trumpet was the first man I ever dated off of Match.  I sorted through the memories, trying to recollect his face. Yes, that was definitely him.  I remember my disappointment upon meeting him.  Not only was I not attracted to him physically, he was 10 minutes late, which meant I had to buy the tickets for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button—which, in addition to the rest of the terrible night, was a terrible first date movie!

Strike, strike, strike.  Strike!

I laughed, bemused.  Unbelievable.  I begged God lightheartedly for answers, for direction.

From my seat, I fought to see his left hand.  I don’t believe I ever saw a ring, and why that’s important, I do not know.  It was just so strange to see him—them.  Not to mention within such a short period of each other.

Dear God, I know You have a sense of humor.  Thank You for making me laugh that night.  I truly needed it.  I pray that You bless Hal’s marriage and that he loves and honors his wife.  I do know that he had been waiting for the right one to come along, so please let Your love fill their hearts and provide a path for a most loving, supportive marriage.  For Michael, I pray that he is in a happy place in life.  I pray that He feels Your love and let not loneliness fill his heart.  I know these men were not meant for me, and I pray for the man who You have destined to be my future husband.  I hope that his heart is centered on You and that he will be dedicated to You, his family, and our love.  Thank you for all you provide, Father.  I love You with my whole heart.  In Your Son’s name I pray, amen.

The DJ Had Me Falling in Love Again

Today God sent me an angel.

The sister of my coworker came by the branch today and with her was the little boy she was babysitting.  When I first met DJ I asked him for a high-five, which he promptly obliged.  With his genuine smile, I then asked him for a hug.

He squirmed to get out of his chair, and jumped down to the ground.  He wrapped his little arms around me tightly.  I hugged him so close, praying to and praising God for the little moment of love from a stranger.

As lunchtime came and went, it was time for DJ to leave.  He waved goodbye to everyone, and when his eyes met mine, I said, “Bye, DJ!” and waved emphatically.

He looked at me for a second and then zoomed to the gate separating us.  As my coworker helped him open the partition, he rushed into my arms for one last hug.

I almost started crying on the spot.  Instead, I caught my breath and squeezed him one last time.  As he walked away, he waved goodbye, and my heart melted.

That single moment gave me enough strength to finish the day.

Thank You, God, for the little moments.  I praise You for Your mercy.  Thank You for loving me and giving me strength.  Without You, nothing is possible.

From the Gut

This is one of the few posts I'm writing without weeks in between its beginning and publication.

I feel like I'm drowning right now.  Life is overwhelming in so many ways.

Everything is falling apart, and God is still there with me.  I feel Him.  I just don't have answers or direction.

I feel so lost and lonely.  Friends I make don't stay.  Is it me?  Do they come to know me and not like me?  They don't stay around very long, and I feel like no matter how much I try to reach out, no one is there.  Other people don't find problems making friends.  Scott was enveloped into the popular group.  The other leaders love him.  Why isn't it that easy for me?  Why am I always forgotten?  They always invite him out.  He always has friends wanting to hang out.  Why is it a struggle for me?  I put my heart on the line, but everyone's busy, or has better things to do...  I miss high school where I knew Lizzie would be there for me, always, rain or shine, boredom or business.  No one hears me.

No one hears me...  No one comments on my blog.  No one comments on my Facebook.  No one texts me. No one cares.  I see a multitude of comments back and forth on Facebooks, Twitters, and Bloggers.  But I'm of no importance.  Jesus, who am I?  I'm not good enough for anyone to love.  And yet I sit here and am forced to see people loving each other...and me fighting for attention only to not receive it.

I'm in a group, I try to speak, someone talks over me.  Someone asks my opinion, I give it, they ignore it.  Everyone ignores me.

It's not that I don't try, because deep in my heart I really do want love, attention, and affection...  I reach out, pulling back empty hands.  I want someone to reach out to me and mean it.  Not because it's their duty as a Christian, because when they do it because of that, it's fleeting.  They'll be nice for a second, make casual conversation, and then be about their way as if they've helped.  I'm lonely!  I'm dying for human interaction of a deeper kind!  Talking about the weather is not the same thing as talking about my heart...

God is there for me.  But we are supposed to have people on Earth to talk to, right?  I'm not supposed to be going through these things alone...  Why am I not important enough, God?  Why isn't anyone reaching out to me?  Why is my family so far away?  What am I still doing in Memphis?  Why am I alone?

Why?  Why?  Why?

I have no answers.  And as I sit here in this library...I know my night will end with me driving home to an empty apartment, and falling asleep alone in the darkness of my bedroom.

I'm trying...  Why isn't it getting me anywhere?

What is my gift if I'm meant to be alone the rest of my life?

God, I know You're there and that should be all that matters...but please help me not feel so alone.

My Lord, a Ring

I was on the hunt for Christmas gifts.

Two Sundays ago, I walked through Hope’s gift store, looking at the colorful, handmade items.  I felt fabrics, admired ornaments, browsed through books, and glossed over jewelry.

As often as I walked away from it, I was drawn back to a particular ring.

I rolled it between my fingers delicately, admiring it.  A few moments later, the cashier was happily wrapping it up for me.

Upon returning to my apartment, I looked through my jewelry box at all my rings.  Precious gemstones and gaudy baubles lined the drawers.  The last time I purchased a ring was more than two years ago.  Fashion jewelry became the trend and so I fell into the dangerous sparkle of a huge cubic zirconia.

I observed both rings.  I considered the simplicity of the faith band compared to the fake, but desirable diamond.

At many times it is very difficult to separate living of the world and living in the world.  All too often we fall into traps of I need and I must have.

The beauty of faith is completely underestimated but so immensely lovely and immeasurably more appealing than objects of the world.  As I sat in my living room with friends, I gazed around my apartment.

“If I die tomorrow,” I said aloud, but mostly to myself, “none of this would matter.”

Expensive presents, paid-for furniture, aesthetic decorations, a gallery of clothes—kaput.  The only thing that matters is God.  I am so happy that my faith is taking flight.  I feel the caress of God’s love every day and am reminded that nothing else matters.

Anonymous

For a majority of my life, I have lived in silence, tucked away unnoticed.  For a majority of my life, I didn’t really mind.

It wasn’t until I started attending YAC that I desired recognition and gratitude, or to simply be acknowledged by my Christian counterparts.  Yet as desperately as I tried to win others over, I never received the acceptance for which I longed.

During my struggles, it was after a sermon at Second Presbyterian that I visited their bookstore.  Confused, I prayed to God to lead me in the right direction.  I traced the books aesthetically lining the shelves with the tip of my index finger.

I stopped upon Anonymous by Alicia Britt Chole.

It opened my eyes and settled my heart.

Jesus grew up as a relatively uncelebrated boy from an unroyal family in the unrespected town of unliked region—yet this is precisely where God hid His Son for His first three decades of life!  And during those hidden years in Nazareth, God granted Jesus protected, undisturbed room to be and become, to grow and learn.

That’s how hidden years can be for every one of us—if we can recognize their potential and realize that anonymous seasons are sacred places to be rested in, not rushed through—and most definitely never to be regretted.

For many months, I’ve been sad, not feeling as if I’m contributing or being recognized for my contributions by the group.  Slowly I’m learning that I shouldn’t rush into feeding my pride.  Looking at the life of Jesus, my biggest accomplishment right now would be humility, to be humbled.

Right now I should be focused on my walk with God, my growth in Him.  After 25 years of living without Jesus, it would be a great tragedy to rush to the end of the path when there is so much beauty in the journey and knowledge to be gained.  My focus was wrong, and now it is time to refocus and really feel where the Holy Spirit is guiding me.

In hidden years, Father God is our only consistent audience.  Others come and others go, but only He always sees…When no one else is interested in (let alone impressed by) our capabilities and dreams, God is still wholeheartedly with fatherly pride shouting His love over us.

I don’t have to perform for love.  God loves me, genius or not, superhero or not, popular or not.  And He wants me to walk the road He meant for me, not to trivialize it by ignoring it, avoiding it, or rushing through it.

Dear Lord, please give me the strength to remember that Your commendation is the only one that matters.  Please instill on my heart humility and remove my pride.  My life is not about me or what I can accomplish—it is about You, and glorifying You.  It is all for You.  Please help to remind me of that when I am swept away in the current of acceptance and praise.  Let my life be pleasing to you.  In all I do, let me honor You.  I love You.  In Your Son’s name, amen.

Two Months, Too Tired

I recognized the lines of exhaustion that traced her face.

We were both waiting in line at Wal-Mart.  Shopping alone she had gathered her groceries, her baby carriage, and her purse in a cart.  In her arms slept her two month old baby boy.

I stood behind her as we both waited patiently in the long line.

Her arms were growing heavy.  She started to lay her baby in his carrier, but as soon as he parted from the warmth of her grasp, he cried.  Frustrated, she picked him up again to keep him from wailing.

The combination of a long wait and a discomforted baby was weighing on her.  I wanted to say something, anything nice to calm her tensing spirit.  As she shuffled him from shoulder to shoulder, I reached out to her.

She immediately softened, welcoming my compliments and service.  As we continued to wait, I asked her, “How are you?”

The next fifteen minutes we talked about her.  I listened intently, helping her every few moments to rearrange the baby’s carrier and grocery bags as she finally checked out.  Our pleasant attitudes even carried over to the weary cashier, prompting more pleasant conversation.

As we walked to our cars, I wanted to hug her, but instead I wished her a great night and safe drive home.

Jesus helped the lowly, degraded, and tired.  Many times the lowly, degraded, and tired are passed over, denied help.  I am lowly.  I am degraded.  I am tired.  I need help.  We are all lowly.  Degraded.  Tired.  We are all sinners.  God loves me—God loves us.  And so it fills my heart with joy to love others.  It is an overwhelming feeling to love someone so instantly, to care for them, to help them for no other reason than your heart cries for it to be so.  When I love others, I feel God’s love.

Dear God, I thank You every day for loving me.  I am unworthy.  I am evil.  I am a sinner.  But You love me.  Please guide me to show Your love to others in my every day walk.  I am so undeserving, but so thankful for Your grace.  Let me show Your love to everyone; those who are poor or rich, clean or dirty, nice or mean, selfish or unselfish.  Let Your love fill my heart so that it spills over, excited to wash those around me.  I love you, Father.  In Your name I pray.  Amen.

Revolving, Evolving

Shine

Make ‘em wonder what you’ve got

Make ‘em wish that they were not

On the outside, looking bored

Though I recognize the melody when flipping through the radio stations, I don’t know much else other than this set of lyrics.

The first time I heard the song was in Scott’s car years ago, long before I started listening to K-LOVE in my own car.

It was when we first started attending Hope that I heard this conversation:

“I heard that Shine song today,” one girl laughed.

“K-LOVE never gets any new music!” the other sighed.

“I know, that song came out so long ago!”

While they sat there and discussed new and old music, I listened dumbfounded that it wasn’t a new song.

In fact, I researched this song online and found it was released in 1994.  I was 10 then, and heard the song for the first time in my mid-twenties.

Music and Christianity are much alike.  Those who have listened to the music for years can name the band, the name of the song, the year the song came out, the album it’s on, and the lyrics.  The same can be said for those who have immersed themselves in The Word.  They know the stories, the people, the verses, the chapters and ages...

Mature Christians know the details...

We baby Christians may not know the details, but we still have the music deep in our hearts.

Coffee with God

The invitation was for 53 girls.

I sat by the fireplace with my book, a hot drink, and a pumpkin muffie.

Time passed slowly.  My thoughts divagated as I watched through the windows for others.  Though I sat alone at the table, I felt His presence.

In the half hour I spent by myself I enjoyed the silent camaraderie with God.  It was the very first time I was up before the sun, spending time with Him.

I breathed in deeply the smell of coffee, and relaxed in warmth, both waiting and not waiting for my friends.  I opened my book and began to read.

A little later, I was joined by two of my good friends.  It was refreshing to be with them before officially beginning my busy Friday.

I was able to delight in both parts of my morning.  The time I spent with God filled my spirit and the moments with friends filled my heart.  It was the perfect ending to a long week, and I am thankful God led my heart down the path to Panera.

Following the Lord is a daily responsibility which involves the subordination of my desires and will to His. For this to take place effectively, we need daily time with Him, waiting at His throne (Luke 9:23).

Word of the Day

My sadness was overwhelming.

As I sat at my desk, my head—along with my spirit—drooped lower and lower.  I had given up on being happy and instead only felt stress and anxiety.

I’m so sad, I thought to myself, inwardly praying for some hope.

It was then my phone lit up, a single word on its screen.

Tristful.

It was like a hammer.  Seeing it before me almost magnified my depression.  A few weeks ago I subscribed to Dictionary.com’s Word of the Day.  Every day I receive a text with a new word, and today’s fit like a glove.

Maybe it was God acknowledging my feelings.  Maybe it was Satan using my feelings against me.  As the day grew busier, I pushed on and pushed away the coincidental text.

In a quiet moment, I bent my head to look down at the top of my desk.  Please let this day be over soon, I prayed.

My head rose and that’s when I saw her.  Perky, smiley Ashley.  Cute, blonde hair, jazzy outfit, an excited smile, and a backpack filled with delicious baked goods.  Her energy immediately transfused with mine, recharging my batteries.

I wanted to reach over the tall, marble countertop and hug her.  I had never been so thankful to see a friendly face.  There was the happiness and hope for which I had been longing all day.

I may never know the origin of tristful, but I do know that God sent Ashley to me.  I am very thankful for him watching over me.  I am very thankful He brought into my life a free-spirited glam-fashionista with a listening ear, a warm shoulder, and an adoration of sweets and Chick-fil-a kids’ meals.

Real friendship is an organic cranberry-walnut muffin that shows up unexpectedly by the grace of God and a loving friend.