The Grandest of Plans

I sat with a friend eating lunch today, discussing our five year plans.

As I ended with one I was sure would feel like it would never happen, he said, “A lot can happen in five years – in just a week!”

It didn’t occur to me until I came home how right he was.  I showered, letting the warmth of the water relax me.  My thoughts drifted.

Just a week ago I was in the most utter of despair.  I was unable to stop crying and the only thing keeping me alive were the arms of a friend and Whoopi Goldberg.  My world stopped spinning, my heart was broken, and I saw no light.

It was by far the most lonely, painful place I had ever been.

So it was a surprise when I realized that a week can produce much.  I feel like a different person, with a much different resolve…with a much different heart.

God has touched me in way I never even dreamed.  He has altered my life, my soul, my desires.  He has brought into my life many wonderful people – people who love me and will not leave me.

And I realized that about Him as well.  He will never leave.  The definition of the love of God is one to which I cling.  Unending, unconditional, strong, forgiving, and faithful.  I love Him so much I can barely see fit to love anything else.

God, You are amazing.  You have taken me from the saddest, emptiest place in my life and have walked beside me, many times carrying me, when I was too weak to continue on.  Your love means so much to me and I hope that in all I do I glorify You and that You know my heart’s intentions and desires.  I love You.

Bethlehem

Tonight was such an encouraging night.  In fact, it has been such an encouraging month.

God is weaving into my heart that I can trust Him.  He delivers.

I ask for an example of a God-centered relationship.  He delivers.

I ask for a positive male influence.  He delivers.

I ask for God-centered friendships.  He delivers.

I ask for knowledge.  He delivers.

He always delivers.  And I love Him so much!

…and whatever we ask we receive from Him, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases Him (1 John 3:22).

Bittered Beauty

“Without the bitter, baby, the sweet ain’t as sweet.”

For many years one of my favorite movies was Vanilla Sky.  As Jason Lee drunkenly stumbles away from Tom Cruise who is moving in on his date, he says that Tom can’t possibly know what love is like without experiencing heartbreak.

I may have blogged about this quote many years ago, but I still find truth in his words.

I am broken.  I am crushed.  I am burnt.

But without this pure emptiness, would I ever be able to fully enjoy the beauty of God and His love for me?

No.  Never.

I have never before so intimately and so intently loved God.  I have never before been able to feel His love for me.

Every day I am empty and He fills me.  Every day He chooses to bless me in unexpected ways, romancing me.

I never knew what His love could feel like—how sweet the sweet could be against the bitter.

Father, let my heart be after you

In this hour of doubt I see

Who I am is not just me

So give me strength to die myself

So love can live to tell the tale

You Found Me, Big Daddy Weave

Dear Lord, I am broken.  And it is beautiful.  Please let me continue to be empty if it brings me back to You.  Let me be emptied daily if that means I seek You daily.  Father, let my heart be after You.  Let me die to myself every day.  I am not my own; I am yours.  Let me seek You through my doubts, my sadness, my anger, my hopelessness.  Let me not be swayed by the attention by others.  I want You.  I want You to fill me.  Don’t let me rely on anyone else.  Let me taste the bitter, and be mindful that You are even sweeter because of it.  In Your Son’s name, I pray.  Amen.

Reason, Season, Lifetime

“People come into our lives for a reason, season, or a lifetime.”

I often think of this quote when putting friendships into terms.  It was a few Sundays ago when I most recently was reminded of it.  When we first went to Fellowship, our group ran into a girl I hadn’t seen in several months.

As she spoke joyfully to the other girls, I smiled to myself.  The last time I saw her was at YAC’s first worship service.  She stood in front of me, oblivious to who I was or what she had done for me.

I recalled that night we spent together.  I stood with my arms around her.  She embraced me as I cried.  In a whisper, I told her my prayer request.

“I want to want God…I just don’t see Him.  I don’t care, and I want to care.  Please help me.”

She locked her arms around me as she lovingly lined up scripture, offering encouragement and understanding.  Later that night she gave me a few verses to hold close to my heart while I began my search for God.

That was many, many months ago.

Suddenly God brought her back into my life, just for a moment.  Not a season or lifetime friend, she was brought into my life for a reason.

Well, two reasons.  The first, she prayed for me when I desperately needed it.  And secondly, her appearance in my life on December 26th reminded me of where I once stood.

Such a contrast in my timeline!  God is definitely a Father of encouragement, showing me my progress.

As she waved goodbye to our group, I silently thanked her for all she had done.  She may not know how much she touched my life, but I am thankful that she fulfilled her purpose.

Santa Never Failed

Santa never failed.

Now, he never personally made it to our home, but he never failed.  He always made sure that in his absence, Grandma and Grampa were able to deliver all of his gifts.

It would always be a sunny December afternoon when Grampa Jack’s old truck would pull up in front of our yard.  He and grandma always seemed to bring Santa’s entire workshop—a multitude of bags lining the bed of his old Ford.  It was a happy moment as they walked into our home and hugged us tightly, saying they had received good reports from Santa.

Christmas was always a favorite memory for me, so I wonder if it’s no coincidence that Grampa Jack passed away within weeks of it.

Today marked the one year anniversary of his passing.

Living 2,000 miles away, one would think ignoring the pain would be easy.  And for a year, it was.  Pushing away the pain was as simple as not calling home.  However, with as many band-aids as we lace upon our wounds, God is determined to heal us in a different way—His way.

“If we do not allow God to deal with the wound beneath the layers we dress it in, we stand to infect our heart and suffer a more serious malady later when the same issues or things that remind us of the past resurface in the new situation.” Michelle McKinney Hammond

November 1st marked the first day at my new branch.  Within the first month I had met many of my coworkers.  Gwen, Samontra, Lisa, Ronnie, Bryant, Gary, Ted, Wanda, Loretta, Sophia, Trevor, Tyler…Jack.

Jack came to my window one morning.  As I looked at his transaction, I must have read his name three, four, ten times.

Jack Bock.

I had never met another Bock in my entire 25 years of living.  Imagine my surprise upon seeing not only a Bock, but Jack Bock.  After a year of ignoring my pain, God decided he wasn’t going to let it be untapped any longer.  In front me, daily, stands my grampa’s namesake.

So every day now I am reminded of him.  Every day I see Jack Bock I think of my Jack Bock.  In my mind, I tell him I love him, and I say a prayer.  I think of his hugs, his smile, and the way he smelled.  He smelled like a grampa.

Santa never failed.  But I did.

I love you, Grampa Jack.  I’m sorry it took me a year to think of you, to come to terms with losing you.  I feel ashamed for being selfish and choosing to live 2,000 miles away from you—from my entire family.  We lost touch as I grew up and moved on.  I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.  I’m sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye.  I’m sorry you’re gone and I missed you.  I miss you.  I’m sorry I wasn’t a better granddaughter.

I remember the last time I saw you.  We were on your back porch with Grandma and Steven, talking.  You were frail, and I felt guilt even then for moving away.  I’m sorry I’ll never get to sit and talk with you again.  To hear your raspy voice and to smell the faint waft of cigarette smoke that I hated, but somehow now would find so comforting.  Thank you for loving my grandma and for being that father-figure for my father.  Thank you for you, and I pray that our paths will one day cross again in God’s kingdom.

Closing Door

Being alone takes courage.

It doesn’t matter who you are; it takes strength to spend time alone with yourself.

Last night was difficult for me.

As much as I tried, as many people as I reached out to, nobody returned my calls or texts.  All day I felt like God was closing doors.  As desperately as I wanted to go out, it wasn’t happening.  And so on a Friday night, after a stressful day at work, I found myself at home alone with no plans for the first time in two weeks.

It was inevitable.  I cried.  It was like dust settling after an avalanche, having to finally face the toll of destruction.

And so I spent time with myself—an entire evening—praying and crying and talking to God.

Today as I checked my e-mail, I read one from Crosswalk that talked about just this subject:

While [Jesus] surrounded Himself with crowds of people, there are times in the gospels where He tells His disciples He’s had enough and withdraws from the crowds to recharge.  Luke 5:16 says, “But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”

Time alone is understated, especially in my age group.  Everyone is more interested in what other people are doing than they are prepared to spend alone-time with God.  It takes self-control to stay in.

Obviously, I was lacking self-control and so God gave me no choice.  It was definitely for the better, He knew.  As I lay in bed toward the end of the night, I felt relief.  I felt peace.  God is definitely working in me, and last night was just another example of His grace.  Last night brought me to an important realization.

I am so proud of myself.  For the first time in my life, I am searching for God.  For once I am not hunting for my next boyfriend.  It is such a satisfying feeling.  Two things I am doing right in my life right now: investing in my relationship with God, and building my relationships with other women my age.  I’m not being a coward and searching for men to validate me.  I am not campaigning for their attention—no Facebook messages, no text messages, no invitations to hang out.  I am so proud of myself.  For once, God is enough.  He is my all.  And my friends add to that beauty, because they are from Him. 

Dear God, I do see You doing so many amazing things in my life.  Yes, I miss him.  But You are filling my empty places.  I am not relying on anyone else to fill them.  No boys.  Instead You are filling my life.  You are everywhere I turn.  And You have given me so many new friends.  These women that You are bringing into my life are walking with You.  You are inspiring.  I feel such peace being around those whose lives center around You, and from that stems walks that are holy and glorifying to You.  I love You, God, and thank You for everything.  You are my Father and Lover, and I owe it all to You.

A Lost Family

I held my son on my lap, shielding him from the intruder in our home.

Maybe 5 or 6, he was desperate to be strong and protect his mommy.  I silently begged for him to be still.

The stranger held us captive, slamming his pistol onto our kitchen counter every few minutes, reassuring us of his growing anger.

It was summer.  Our doors and windows were open.  I could see our lush, green garden outside the terrace.  Terror, however, overwhelmed the prettiness of what would have otherwise been a beautiful summer day.

It felt like hours had passed when I finally heard my husband walking toward the front door.  My heart so desperately wanted to scream to him, to tell him to turn around.  I held my son close.  When he heard his daddy, he tried to scramble away from me.  My grip tightened around him, and like I knew what was going to happen, I shielded his eyes.

The gunman walked to the front door where his accomplice was walking with my husband.  I remember my agony when I realized his ‘accomplice’ was supposed to be my husband’s best friend.  I could see my husband through the screen door, and it was at that moment the gunman shot him.  I watched my husband fall.   I watched him die.  I held our son tightly, wondering what was to become of us.

Sometimes my dreams are so real that I wake up, panicking.  This dream was no different.

This is where the devil seems to be reaching me lately.  In the deep dark corners of my heart, where fear lurks, he pulls sad moments and plays on my insecurities.

Dear God, please protect me from these nightmares.  Please watch over me while I sleep, shielding me from these horrible dreams.  Take over and let Your light shine on the darkness.  Another prayer is please protect me from men whose intentions are not pure—or even men who are interested in more than a friendship.  Please close those doors for me.  Please close those doors.  Please protect me from all whose intentions are not pure, or whose hearts do not belong to You.  And let me pray for those who are searching for You now.  Please help guide them to You as You so lovingly guided me.  Let me pray for their hearts to know You.  Thank You for being merciful, loving, and a Protector for the weak like me.  I love You.  In Your Son’s name, I pray.  Amen.

Men of Honor

What Would You Do? has been one of my favorite shows since I first saw it half a year ago.

I love watching as people stand up for what is right, not backing down because they know honor is more important than their fear.

As God leads me further through my journey, I’ve moved from His lessons of obedience and sacrifice to honor.

In my friends, on the news, in my customers, in myself—taking note of honor has become important to me.

Recently on the news I saw a story on a captain of the Navy who had made crude videos.  The clips were grotesque, the themes disgusting.  I thought to myself how disappointing to men that humor is more important than honor.  This was a Navy Captain!

Instead of honoring God, men are honoring themselves at the cost of respect.

I want men in my life who are stronger than this world.  I want men who are leaders, who love God more than they love themselves.

At this age where those of us who are single are looking at settling down, let us not settle.  Let us be able to see a true love of God in the hearts of men who pursue us.  Extinguish relationships that are poisonous to our walk.  For these men in our lives, let us be women worthy to be pursued.  Let us be honorable as we honor our brothers in Christ.  Let build one another up with accountability and grace. Let our brothers not be afraid of the cost of loving You and be a lantern to others, lighting their way to You.

Love each other with brotherly affection.  Outdo one another with honor (Romans 12:10).

Relationship Inspiration

Two-thousand eleven.  We’re only nine days into it and already it seems like the year of relationships.

Well, I’m not in a relationship.  In fact, I’ve been struggling with loneliness lately.  I want a husband one day and this desire sometimes leads me to the wrong person.

I’ve been reading What Happens When Women Say Yes to God by Lysa TerKeurst, a book of obedience.  She touches on this quote:

All because two people fell in love.

Many of my married friends have it adorning their kitchen, veranda, or atrium.  I love this sign!  It makes me smile.  And, ridiculously, it makes me want to fall in love even more.  So I was happy when Lysa took this sentiment one step further:

Two people fell in love, not just with each other but also with the God that brought them together.

That last part is so entirely important.  It reminds me of the value that should accompanying loving someone else.  We must love God with our entire hearts before we are capable of truly loving another.

I look forward to the day I am united with a man of God.  I’ve asked God to place true Christians in my life.  Friends, relationships, older role models—and He is also revealing to me healthy, Christian relationships.  It’s inspiring and encouraging to see them.  Not to mention that most of social circle consists of people who put God first in their life.  In their decisions, in their actions, they are being obedient to God.

It gives me hope that I am walking the right path and that I am being obedient in my own walk with God.  I am working on myself, God is working on me.  One day I have hope I will feel exactly what Lysa described.

Through My Times

Dear God,

I love You through:

            The hard times,

The sad times,

The bad times,

The gaping-hole-in-my-heart times,

The cry-all-night times,

The too-poor-to-buy-food times,

The no-friends-to-console-me times,

The lonely-on-the-holidays times,

The dark times,

The rough times,

The hurting-heart times,

The hopeless times,

The hopeful times,

The good times,

The warm times,

The busy times,

The laugh-so-hard-your-rib-hurt times,

The plentiful times,

The successful times,

The never-would-have-made-it-without-You times,

Through the empty times and full times, I love You, and You are my God.

Love,

Jamie

PS. What is even more amazing is that through it all, You still love me.

Officially Flocked

I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling,
And you've told me who I am.
I am yours.

Who am I, Casting Crowns

Dr. Murray opened the service last Sunday by asking the congregation, “Who do you think you are?”

My eyes lit up as the rest of his sermon declared us sheep of God and Jesus as our good shepherd.  Is there anything better that we could be?

A prom queen, a quarterback, a business woman, an Aston Martin owner, a banker, a broker, a realtor, a parent, a girlfriend, a wife—which title inflates your pride?  There is not one thing that is more amazing than belonging to God.

As I sat in the pew alone, listening to the sermon, my thoughts drifted back to Thursday night.

It was a normal night.  I had dinner with friends.  We enjoyed pleasant conversation, savoring the fellowship.  Soon, it was time for the evening to come to an end.  My friend pulled me aside and touched my life in that very moment.

He looked at me and said, “Jamie, you’re a beautiful, smart, funny Christian girl.”

Everything I could ever want to hear was in that sentence.  He called me beautiful, validating my self-worth.  He called me smart, validating my self-esteem.  He called me funny, validating my need for acceptance.  He called me a girl, validating my femininity.

But none of it mattered.  My heart only settled on the utterance of one word:

Christian.

I, for the first time ever, plowed over all these adjectives and dove gleefully for the only one that mattered.

Christian.

Before that night, a peer had never personally named me a Christian.  I’m a Christian!  I don’t know why it meant so much to hear it on another’s lips—to be recognized by another as God’s child.  Officially.  It felt official.

It seems stupid, I know.  I’ve been baptized; I was asked all the questions acknowledging being saved only by Christ.  I’ve been attending church consistently.  In Independent’s Call to Worship, they begin with saying, “Christian, what do you believe?”

But it was personal tonight.  I felt like it was coming from God.  Like a little, “I love you; you really are mine!”

So that morning, when asked by Dr. Murray, “Who do you think you are?” my heart sang out joyfully, assuredly, “I am His—I am His!”

For none of us lives to himself, and no man dies to himself. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's (Romans 14:7,8).

Touch Me, Repair Me

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am when I feel like I’m truly being led by God.

I sat in Independent Presbyterian today, and during the offering, the choir sang Create in Me a Clean Heart, O God.

Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit with me.

Cast me not away from Thy presence; and take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.

Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation, and uphold me with Thy free spirit.

Then will I teach transgressors Thy ways; and sinners shall be converted unto

Thee. Create in me a clean heart, O God!

I thought this was a beautiful prayer, and for me one that was very poignant.  I planned to write it in my journal when I returned home, to have it be one I repeat in my times of sadness.

After the service ended, I made the decision to skip their young adults’ Sunday school so I could visit Fellowship Memphis, a church for which I have much admiration.

There, we worshipped—sang as loudly as we could, which I loved—for about 20 minutes, and then we went into the message.

Psalm 51.

Repentant David praying for forgiveness and a clean heart.  I smiled immediately.  David was completely surrendering to God, praying for mercy and recognizing his inability and the ability of only God to repair him.

My heart is surrendered to God, because I know only He can repair it.

God, repair me.  You created the universe.  You created the universe out of nothing.  Likewise, create in me a clean heart.  Take nothing of old, and instead create for me a new heart that is pleasing to you.  Create in me a clean heart.  Let me then take my cleansed heart and show others Your same love and mercy, guiding them back to You.  I love You.  In Your Son’s name, I pray.  Amen.