And just like that, when I've come to accept my non-role in my own life, the Lord tests it.
After a long, exhausting day last night I head home to find my house a wreck (no surprise there...) and no will to clean it. I said, "Lord, I'm too tired. I just can't." Early to bed for me.
On my way to bed, my glasses break. Guess that phone call to the eye doctor will be made today rather than some vague time in the future.
After reading my Bible and North & South, I pray for a good nights sleep (i.e. one that does not involve me getting up at 2 and 4 am) and roll over.
And then, my phone rings. And I get some not so happy news. Not the end of the world news, but news that made me feel helpless and anxious. I cried. I prayed. I prayed some more. My mind was now wide awake and not letting me sleep. I again told God that I needed to sleep. Really really needed to sleep.
This morning I woke up and actually felt like getting out of bed! And who says God doesn't listen when we pray? But more than that, I'm am so excited to see God preparing my heart for things I cannot control. I'm not waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I am expecting something big. Not because I deserve something big or have worked for it, but because God is big. And that is something I'm really glad about. Especially today.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Serving, Staying, Moving-- I will follow
I've been listening to God's iPod this weekend. Or at least, I think I was.
It wasn't one of those times where I heard the perfect songs right in a row. This was different.
I heard the same song every time I turned on the radio. Three times in 2 days.
Message received, Lord.
The song was Chris Tomlin's "I will Follow." The chorus goes like this:
It wasn't one of those times where I heard the perfect songs right in a row. This was different.
I heard the same song every time I turned on the radio. Three times in 2 days.
Message received, Lord.
The song was Chris Tomlin's "I will Follow." The chorus goes like this:
Where You go, I'll go
Where You stay, I'll stay
When You move, I'll move
I will follow You
Who You love, I'll love
How You serve I'll serve
If this life I lose, I will follow You
I will follow You.
I was doing a bit of serving this weekend, with much joy in my heart. But when I heard this song, I had to ask, "Lord, am I serving the way you want me to serve? Can you make sure that I am?" And then I caught the line, "Where you stay, I'll stay." Hmm. I'm not looking to run away or get as far away from home as I can, but I would like to look around. Maybe try somewhere new. And then I asked, "Lord, are you asking me to stay? Or am I to follow You to where you are moving?"
I could hit the list- am I loving who Christ calls me to love, am I flexible enough to be of use to Christ- but the one that made me think hard? "If this life I lose, I will follow you." If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, loss had been a big part of my life this past year. I know there is an end eventually. I know I'm going to die. But am I placing that event in Christ's hands? Will I be able to follow him through anything?
And the more I think about it, the more I don't have to think about it. What is my life without Christ? Nothing. Without Christ, I am nothing. And to some, that is depressing. To me? When I cannot be in control of every event in my life? When I can't control situations or the future? To me, knowing that Christ is my every direction, every path, every plan, everything --that is the most reassuring thing in the world. And if I have that, I can say this with certainty: if I loose this life, I still have Christ. And that is everything worth having.
Where You stay, I'll stay
When You move, I'll move
I will follow You
Who You love, I'll love
How You serve I'll serve
If this life I lose, I will follow You
I will follow You.
I was doing a bit of serving this weekend, with much joy in my heart. But when I heard this song, I had to ask, "Lord, am I serving the way you want me to serve? Can you make sure that I am?" And then I caught the line, "Where you stay, I'll stay." Hmm. I'm not looking to run away or get as far away from home as I can, but I would like to look around. Maybe try somewhere new. And then I asked, "Lord, are you asking me to stay? Or am I to follow You to where you are moving?"
I could hit the list- am I loving who Christ calls me to love, am I flexible enough to be of use to Christ- but the one that made me think hard? "If this life I lose, I will follow you." If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, loss had been a big part of my life this past year. I know there is an end eventually. I know I'm going to die. But am I placing that event in Christ's hands? Will I be able to follow him through anything?
And the more I think about it, the more I don't have to think about it. What is my life without Christ? Nothing. Without Christ, I am nothing. And to some, that is depressing. To me? When I cannot be in control of every event in my life? When I can't control situations or the future? To me, knowing that Christ is my every direction, every path, every plan, everything --that is the most reassuring thing in the world. And if I have that, I can say this with certainty: if I loose this life, I still have Christ. And that is everything worth having.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
When words are my enemy
I love words. If you have been reading my blog for any amount of time or know me at all, you know I love words. I usually like them best when they are carefully placed, properly punctuated and bound in leather, but I love words in all of their manifestations. Heck, I like reading the dictionary. It is fun and you never know when you are going to come across a new word you can intersperse into every day life. (The mocking can happen later, ok? Thanks.)
However, over the past year there are a few words that have become distasteful to me. I try not to use them at all, but if I must use them, I hesitate and do a lot of thinking before I do so.
The words?
"Suicide" and "dead."
(Actually, any variation on the word dead makes me go cold.)
I've had to use "dead" a lot this past week. I don't like it. I try to sanitize it by saying "lost" or "gone." But in my head, I still feel the emptiness of the word. Dead. Gone. Mostly I don't like it because of the grief it brings to the front of my mind. It has been almost a year, and I don't miss J. any less. The shock of it all still puts a lump in my throat and an empty space in my heart.
And I am reminded that life must go on. Life is, after all, meant for living. And while my heart cries for the life that was lost, I force myself to remember that death has an amazing epilogue. And though it doesn't make the pain go away, it makes it easier to bear.
However, over the past year there are a few words that have become distasteful to me. I try not to use them at all, but if I must use them, I hesitate and do a lot of thinking before I do so.
The words?
"Suicide" and "dead."
(Actually, any variation on the word dead makes me go cold.)
I've had to use "dead" a lot this past week. I don't like it. I try to sanitize it by saying "lost" or "gone." But in my head, I still feel the emptiness of the word. Dead. Gone. Mostly I don't like it because of the grief it brings to the front of my mind. It has been almost a year, and I don't miss J. any less. The shock of it all still puts a lump in my throat and an empty space in my heart.
And I am reminded that life must go on. Life is, after all, meant for living. And while my heart cries for the life that was lost, I force myself to remember that death has an amazing epilogue. And though it doesn't make the pain go away, it makes it easier to bear.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
All the old familiar places
I love travel.
I love adventure.
I love pictures of the places I've visited.
I love imagining myself as an independent free spirit.
I like trying new things. (Everybody notice the shift there? Ok, moving on.)
But right now? Right now I am craving old books that I've read before many times. There are so many new books on my reading list, but all I want is the comfortable, familiar road to Bag End. I want to spend time in my parents old, not so terribly drafty house that is always warm. (Not just physically warm, though that is a perk. There is something about it that just comfortable about it that I miss.) I want to sit for hours at Panera Bread (stuffing my face with the Bacon Turkey Bravo sandwich with Broccoli Cheddar soup, of course), talking about nothing and everything with excellent friends. I want to walk the roads of Islington once again, knowing that I will hit at least 3 mini-marts on my way to St. Giles and, 15 minutes past the church find a bookstore and a shoe store. And also know that across the street from St. Giles there is a kind family with a magical table that fits all of their friends, good food, conversation and games every Sunday afternoon. I want to be able to say to my friends, "See you in 20 minutes" and actually show up, not 2 hours later or only on Saturday's and Sunday's.
I want to know that I didn't waste my life. I want to know that I didn't go to school just to go to school, but because I was meant to go to school. I want to travel more, not just to travel (because Heaven knows traveling these days is almost more stress than it is worth!), but because my future might be somewhere else then where I am now.
And the whole not being able to see into the future? Not knowing where I will end up, what failures I will make, what successes I might have? Not being 100% sure of my path in life?
It makes me long for all the old familiar places.
I love adventure.
I love pictures of the places I've visited.
I love imagining myself as an independent free spirit.
I like trying new things. (Everybody notice the shift there? Ok, moving on.)
But right now? Right now I am craving old books that I've read before many times. There are so many new books on my reading list, but all I want is the comfortable, familiar road to Bag End. I want to spend time in my parents old, not so terribly drafty house that is always warm. (Not just physically warm, though that is a perk. There is something about it that just comfortable about it that I miss.) I want to sit for hours at Panera Bread (stuffing my face with the Bacon Turkey Bravo sandwich with Broccoli Cheddar soup, of course), talking about nothing and everything with excellent friends. I want to walk the roads of Islington once again, knowing that I will hit at least 3 mini-marts on my way to St. Giles and, 15 minutes past the church find a bookstore and a shoe store. And also know that across the street from St. Giles there is a kind family with a magical table that fits all of their friends, good food, conversation and games every Sunday afternoon. I want to be able to say to my friends, "See you in 20 minutes" and actually show up, not 2 hours later or only on Saturday's and Sunday's.
I want to know that I didn't waste my life. I want to know that I didn't go to school just to go to school, but because I was meant to go to school. I want to travel more, not just to travel (because Heaven knows traveling these days is almost more stress than it is worth!), but because my future might be somewhere else then where I am now.
And the whole not being able to see into the future? Not knowing where I will end up, what failures I will make, what successes I might have? Not being 100% sure of my path in life?
It makes me long for all the old familiar places.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A Glimpse of Heaven
There are two things on this earth that set my mind and heart longing for Heaven: funerals of the saints and baptisms. I don't take joy in funerals, let me be clear. I've had too many of them in the past year to think they are anything but heartbreaking. But as I reflect on the persons life and where they are now as well as the the pain they are no longer in, I find joy and am filled with an intense longing to join them.
Baptisms, however, are another thing entirely. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is something about corporately saying, "I recognize you as family now. I see that you belong to Christ,too. And how about we walk this life together?" that just makes my heart sing. I attended a baptism this past Sunday while I was home and I had this moment of intense longing. It was for so many things wrapped up together, but mostly it was a longing for Heaven, for the saints that have gone on before, for the sweetness of resting in a place where I truly belong. Have you ever had that, a longing for something you've never known?
I was reading "The Hobbit" this week and ran across a section that explains it perfectly: "Then something Tookish woke up inside [Bilbo], and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick."
See, Bilbo was perfectly content to stay home in his safe little hobbit hole, away from danger and adventure because that is what hobbits did. It was all he knew. The Tookish part of him, the side of family that had had adventures in the past, was stirred with thoughts of far off places and adventures in the unknown. I think our "Tookish"-ness is the part in us that recognizes how out of place we are in the world. We are content because it is all we know. But every now and then, we get a glimpse of what might be, what will be, what is waiting for us on the other side.
And maybe, this is just for me. Maybe something in me likes to hide under the material nature of this world and my moments of clarity is a bit of truth awakening me to the fact that my focus is off center. And maybe, I just need to be reminded that this world is not the end, that there is hope and a future for me. And it includes a huge family that loves to jam and eat together. And that is something I am looking forward to doing. Even for the rest of eternity.
Baptisms, however, are another thing entirely. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is something about corporately saying, "I recognize you as family now. I see that you belong to Christ,too. And how about we walk this life together?" that just makes my heart sing. I attended a baptism this past Sunday while I was home and I had this moment of intense longing. It was for so many things wrapped up together, but mostly it was a longing for Heaven, for the saints that have gone on before, for the sweetness of resting in a place where I truly belong. Have you ever had that, a longing for something you've never known?
I was reading "The Hobbit" this week and ran across a section that explains it perfectly: "Then something Tookish woke up inside [Bilbo], and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick."
See, Bilbo was perfectly content to stay home in his safe little hobbit hole, away from danger and adventure because that is what hobbits did. It was all he knew. The Tookish part of him, the side of family that had had adventures in the past, was stirred with thoughts of far off places and adventures in the unknown. I think our "Tookish"-ness is the part in us that recognizes how out of place we are in the world. We are content because it is all we know. But every now and then, we get a glimpse of what might be, what will be, what is waiting for us on the other side.
And maybe, this is just for me. Maybe something in me likes to hide under the material nature of this world and my moments of clarity is a bit of truth awakening me to the fact that my focus is off center. And maybe, I just need to be reminded that this world is not the end, that there is hope and a future for me. And it includes a huge family that loves to jam and eat together. And that is something I am looking forward to doing. Even for the rest of eternity.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Being thankful for oil leaks and high heels
One of the things I've come to appreciate about living a few blocks from work is the fact that I don't have to drive far, or at all most days. With the freezing cold temperatures of late, I finally trudged over to public safety to get a parking permit so I wouldn't turn to a human icicle on the way to work. Last Tuesday, partly because of the weather and partly because of the super cute Nine West heels I decided to wear that day, I drove to work. I got a little power trip from parking in "Employee Parking," which quickly wore off for the last few minutes of the walk to the library.
I was in the middle of my training in Technical Services, specifically Digital Projects, when I get a phone call from the Circulation desk. Call public safety, they tell me. I mentally went through a list: did I forget to hang my parking permit? I was allowed to park in Employee Parking, right? Did I leave my lights on? Feeling like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar (it probably comes from getting too many parking tickets at Alvernia...), I called public safety.
The news? Way worse than forgotten lights or parking in the wrong lot. Apparently, my car was leaking oil. Big time. Enough to leave a trail from my house to campus. In my mind, the worse thing was that the day before I had just scheduled an appointment for my car back home. I really did not want this to be bad; I had enough work that needed to be done on that car next week. Thankfully, I was able to get an appointment and my car was fixed in two days. Apparently, it was the oil adapter gasket. I am still working out exactly what that is, but the good news it it's fixed.
At first, I kept praying, "God, I really don't have the extra money for this! Why is this happening??" Then I realized how bad it was. All of the oil had drained out of my car. All of it. I wouldn't have driven anywhere until I was ready to go home this weekend, and then? I probably wouldn't have made it home. After I realized that, I said a different prayer. A thankful prayer that I decided to wear heels to work that day.
(In other news, my car is back from it's second originally scheduled appointment. All is well with it. At least for now.)
I was in the middle of my training in Technical Services, specifically Digital Projects, when I get a phone call from the Circulation desk. Call public safety, they tell me. I mentally went through a list: did I forget to hang my parking permit? I was allowed to park in Employee Parking, right? Did I leave my lights on? Feeling like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar (it probably comes from getting too many parking tickets at Alvernia...), I called public safety.
The news? Way worse than forgotten lights or parking in the wrong lot. Apparently, my car was leaking oil. Big time. Enough to leave a trail from my house to campus. In my mind, the worse thing was that the day before I had just scheduled an appointment for my car back home. I really did not want this to be bad; I had enough work that needed to be done on that car next week. Thankfully, I was able to get an appointment and my car was fixed in two days. Apparently, it was the oil adapter gasket. I am still working out exactly what that is, but the good news it it's fixed.
At first, I kept praying, "God, I really don't have the extra money for this! Why is this happening??" Then I realized how bad it was. All of the oil had drained out of my car. All of it. I wouldn't have driven anywhere until I was ready to go home this weekend, and then? I probably wouldn't have made it home. After I realized that, I said a different prayer. A thankful prayer that I decided to wear heels to work that day.
(In other news, my car is back from it's second originally scheduled appointment. All is well with it. At least for now.)
Sunday, December 12, 2010
What I'm doing here
What am I doing here?
Too often, I'm struck by this question and it throws my life off balance. I want to know what I'm supposed to do to make my life worth living. Count 'em: three references to me being in control of my life. Not only that, but deciding the worthiness of my life by my own actions and fulfillment and satisfaction. So many problems going on in that last thought!
I have a confession: I didn't go to church today. Shock. It is the strangest feeling to not be with a body of believers. What I did do was pull up the internet (a very hard task some days!), log onto The Village Church website and listen to a Matt Chandler sermon called "What Are We Doing Here?"
I love Matt Chandler. His sermons, no matter when they were originally given, always speak to a place in my life that I am struggling with. I love (and hate) that they usually hit me right between the eyes, that they help me see my sin where I didn't recognize the sin. He would probably be upset with the semi-rock star status I give to him, so let me clarify a little more. He is so quick to say how fallen he is, so I'm not under the illusion that he is perfect. I get that. What I so treasure about his ministry is how open and honest he is. He doesn't sugar coat things and calls out the problems the Christians of the Plastic Church without apology. I am a member there some days and it is refreshing and liberating to know that being a "messy Christian" is not something to be ashamed of. We are all hopelessly flawed. In Christ, we have perfection, yes. But we still live in a sinful world and we can't and won't get it right this side of eternity.
One of the things that spoke to my heart and the way I live my life this morning was this: that the glory of God is weightier than anything I find important. He is ultimate reality. If I don't understand God as the ultimate reality, I understand him only as a concept. A concept is not hard & fast--I can change and adjust it to my understanding. And this is what Matt says about that: "When you know God as a concept, you are heavier than Him. You say 'I have more glory than God. I'm smarter than God as He's revealed Himself to be for over four thousand years.' [But] when He becomes our ultimate reality, that changes everything. "
It's the glory and grace of God that allows me to be called His child. He has extended the gift of eternal life to me for His glory. So all my questions about my purpose and future? They mean nothing because it's not about me. It's about the weight of His glory.
Why am I here? For the glory of God. What am I supposed to do with my life? Anything--everything-- for the glory of God. Will I go back to school? If I do, it's for the glory of God. What if I never get married? If I don't, it's for the glory of God.
My identity as a student, daughter, sister, friend--this doesn't define me. It won't last. But understanding God as ultimate reality? Knowing that He doesn't change, won't change to accommodate the whims of my sinful life? That because of His unchanging nature I can cling to the fact that "Even in this, God is good"? That is going to change the way I live my life, for the glory of God.
"And it’s only the weight of God, the reality of God that sustains that, not the concept of God." ~Matt Chandler
Too often, I'm struck by this question and it throws my life off balance. I want to know what I'm supposed to do to make my life worth living. Count 'em: three references to me being in control of my life. Not only that, but deciding the worthiness of my life by my own actions and fulfillment and satisfaction. So many problems going on in that last thought!
I have a confession: I didn't go to church today. Shock. It is the strangest feeling to not be with a body of believers. What I did do was pull up the internet (a very hard task some days!), log onto The Village Church website and listen to a Matt Chandler sermon called "What Are We Doing Here?"
I love Matt Chandler. His sermons, no matter when they were originally given, always speak to a place in my life that I am struggling with. I love (and hate) that they usually hit me right between the eyes, that they help me see my sin where I didn't recognize the sin. He would probably be upset with the semi-rock star status I give to him, so let me clarify a little more. He is so quick to say how fallen he is, so I'm not under the illusion that he is perfect. I get that. What I so treasure about his ministry is how open and honest he is. He doesn't sugar coat things and calls out the problems the Christians of the Plastic Church without apology. I am a member there some days and it is refreshing and liberating to know that being a "messy Christian" is not something to be ashamed of. We are all hopelessly flawed. In Christ, we have perfection, yes. But we still live in a sinful world and we can't and won't get it right this side of eternity.
One of the things that spoke to my heart and the way I live my life this morning was this: that the glory of God is weightier than anything I find important. He is ultimate reality. If I don't understand God as the ultimate reality, I understand him only as a concept. A concept is not hard & fast--I can change and adjust it to my understanding. And this is what Matt says about that: "When you know God as a concept, you are heavier than Him. You say 'I have more glory than God. I'm smarter than God as He's revealed Himself to be for over four thousand years.' [But] when He becomes our ultimate reality, that changes everything. "
It's the glory and grace of God that allows me to be called His child. He has extended the gift of eternal life to me for His glory. So all my questions about my purpose and future? They mean nothing because it's not about me. It's about the weight of His glory.
Why am I here? For the glory of God. What am I supposed to do with my life? Anything--everything-- for the glory of God. Will I go back to school? If I do, it's for the glory of God. What if I never get married? If I don't, it's for the glory of God.
My identity as a student, daughter, sister, friend--this doesn't define me. It won't last. But understanding God as ultimate reality? Knowing that He doesn't change, won't change to accommodate the whims of my sinful life? That because of His unchanging nature I can cling to the fact that "Even in this, God is good"? That is going to change the way I live my life, for the glory of God.
"And it’s only the weight of God, the reality of God that sustains that, not the concept of God." ~Matt Chandler
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
