The Present

In November of last year, I left my job with a clear vision of what I was going to be doing in the days and years to come.  I had been accepted at two universities to begin work on my doctorate degree and I was ready to do it, but in the preparatory weeks that followed my resignation, I began to sense God telling me otherwise, specifically, don't do it.  After all the time and effort I had put into returning to school for a third time, not to mention the others who had contributed their own time in the form of writing letters of recommendation, I was absolutely flabbergasted that God would ask me to change my plans and not go."What are you doing?" I asked the Lord in exasperation and confusion.  I was so certain after all that it was His will that had compelled me to make the decisions I had made, and in addition to that, if I didn't go after this degree I had no idea what I would do instead.  "Rest" seemed to be His overwhelming and consistent response, but "I don't know how," I repeated many times through prayer.  "Stop," the Lord continued, and to which I responded almost frantically, "stop what!?" "Everything," He finally said.   And there it was.  God wanted me to stop acting, stop moving, stop questioning, and especially stop talking. He wanted me to just stop everything, especially the constant running I so effortlessly do on the hamster wheel in my head.  More directly, He wanted me to simply clear my mind of...well, me, and be with Him here and now in the present.

Let Go

As the year of 2013 approaches, I find myself reflecting over the year that has been, and as I weigh the ups and downs I'm not sure whether or not I'm ready to embark on a new year just yet.  Though I've definitely grown closer to God through the tests, temptations, and trials that have been, I also find a part of myself wanting to regress rather than progress, and the further back the better.  In just one recent evening, I inundated my speakers with sounds reminiscent of my younger, less spiritually challenging days.  Among my selections were Savage Garden, Phil Collins, and even Cyndi Lauper.  It seems the 90's weren't far back enough, I closed my eyes and allowed mental time travel to take me back even to the 80's when my hair stood straight up and my greatest care in the world was which car Barbie should drive to meet Ken.  It's not that 2012 has been bad; on the contrary, it has been amazing, but it has been more difficult than not and I suppose my momentary return to the fetal position is just a whiny attempt to avoid continued growing pains that accompany spiritual acrobatics.  My most recent, and hopefully last, annual gymnastic feat of the spirit involved testing I never dreamed would come, when out of an unforeseen encounter my heart was insidiously catapulted from the present to the past and then forward once again. "Jesus, steady my feet," become my plea of recent days, and after a brief retreat to the oceanic views from Seal Beach, He finally did.  So, this year? This year, I let go.

You Are Going to Die

www.dreamstime.com

I'm not sure how you happened upon this blog post, but I don't think I personally would have made it past the title.  I don't readily click on or read anything that screams out "you are going to die," so I'm not sure what it says about you that you're still reading, but contrary to how it appears, I'm not planning on a morbid post. And by the way, why is it that we are so quick to connect the topic of death with morbidity?  Though the pain and sorrow felt among death's survivors is undeniable, death in and of itself is merely a final doorway to eternity (good news for the one who knows Jesus Christ as his or her personal Savior, not so good for those still rejecting Him, which brings us to the point of this discourse.)  I'm on the topic because I recently read the obituary of an old friend from college, and though we lost touch more than a decade ago, I was more than just surprised to learn of his passing; I was troubled.  At just 33 years of age, he left behind a wife and two young children, who will no doubt be struggling through this now bittersweet Christmas season. I look back and remember casually talking to him on the Hendrix College campus, and as I reflect over the memories, I'm reminded of how little we know this side of Heaven about our final day. Fourteen years ago when I knew him, neither of us had any idea that he would die on September 17th of 2012, and as I contemplate the utter uncertainty of death, I can't help but also wonder about my own. As a Christian, I know I'm not supposed to fear death (Psalm 23:4) because it's merely the beginning of my existence as God originally intended it, but the reality is that for many years, I did fear it. I didn't just fear it; I dreaded it, couldn't stand to think about it, and would shut down mentally and emotionally when faced with the reconciliation of it.  That being said, however, I have fortunately learned along my walk with God that I tend to build things up in my mind to be worse than they actually are or will one day be.  What a sweet relief to have finally become aware of my propensity for dramatic exaggeration of life events.  Death isn't to be feared (again, ask yourself whether or not you know Jesus Christ), although I know it can be difficult not to, but like it or not, you are going to die.

I Go On

  I've been going through a certain circumstance lately that I know God is using to change me, strengthen me, and improve me in general, but it is unequivocally the most challenging situation I've ever been in since my walk with Him began and until today, I felt anything but strengthened.  I cried the entire way to work recently because of the situation and in my tears I softly told God that I couldn't do it anymore. Through words I'm not even sure I spoke out loud, I told Him what He already knew - that my very last ounce of strength was gone and I was at the end of my rope.  I felt numb.  My husband called that particular day to check on me and I could hear the emptiness in my own voice as I responded through a blank stare with "I'm fine," but the truth was - I wasn't fine. I have been at a new level of spiritual turmoil unlike any I've ever known and I've been completely beaten down by the task of enduring through the pain (2 Timothy 2) like a good soldier of Jesus Christ (v. 3).  "God, I can't do this anymore. I've got nothing left. Please help me," I softly whispered not long ago.  Though I knew He was there and with me, I felt like I could barely breathe, and the painstaking effort that goes into the daily act of living threatened to suffocate anything left in me.  "I simply can't go on," I thought to myself, but then? I go on. 

I'll Take Izzy

Not long ago, my husband and I had a disagreement on what course of action to take regarding a certain circumstance, and though I petitioned him with my best smile and pleading gaze, his answer to the dilemma was a firm no.  At one point I thought the welling tears in my eyes would change his mind, but to my surprise he stood strong.  I could see that it hurt him to see me hurt and if there was any doubt about that, he removed it when he brought me a sweet card by Emily Matthews.  Alongside her words, he wrote his own that said to see me smile he would give me anything, but for now he just couldn't say yes to what I wanted and hoped I could understand.  "I want us to have a good future" were among the words he wrote, but rather than wrapping myself in the comfort of his stable and tomorrow-based approach in decision making, I felt bitter that he couldn't join me in the excitement of just living for today.  "We may not even be here tomorrow or next week or next year, so why focus on then when we live here in this day?" I responded as a soft trickle of genuine tears fell down my cheeks.  Honestly, I don't know what left me more wounded - the fact that I didn't get what I wanted or that he actually followed through with telling me no.  Doting and giving to a fault, Sam rarely uses that two letter word and actually stands by it against my persistence, so when it became evident that no really meant no,  I became confused and hurt.  However, within just a few minutes of praying about it and reading the words in the card over and over again, God quickly helped me realize that not only was Sam right to tell me no, but he also was right in his approach of looking towards the future.   

City Lights

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Los_Angeles_Skyline_at_Night.jpg

This has been an especially trying week, both emotionally and spiritually, but as it nears the weekend, I'm moved to humble gratitude for the trials and tribulations that have been.  On Monday, I called my husband in a borderline hysterical fit of tears over the challenges that arise when flesh battles spirit (Matthew 26:41) and by Tuesday I was even weaker from the fight. "God, I know You wont let me break, but I don't think I have much more bend in me. Please, please, Father, help me," I softly whispered in fatigue.  I was beginning to feel numb as I fought back tears each morning and afternoon, and as Wednesday approached, I honestly didn't know how much more I could take, but suddenly God showed up in radiant form and my peace was restored. As I drove to work yesterday, I marveled at the sweet experience I have each day to watch the city wake up.  It's still dark outside when I leave, so as I inch onto the freeway to take my place in line with my fellow commuters I'm immersed into a steady stream of yellow and red indicators that life is still moving forward, I am precisely where I'm meant to be, and God is still in control.

I Choose Us

I went to Arkansas a couple of weeks ago and as I landed at the Little Rock National Airport, I couldn't wait to see what God had in store for the few short days I would be there.  I wondered if it would feel like home when I got off the plane, and whether or not I would be ready to return to California when the time came. What I found was a conflict so great I didn't know which way to turn, so I prayed and I've never stopped.  I've since discovered that although I thought for a time I was meant to return to Arkansas permanently, I'm not.  California is my home and it's where I'll stay for now, but oh what a journey of discovery with God it has been along the way.  There have been ups, downs, turnarounds, and roundabouts where I made both progress and mistakes, lane changes, and even missed some streets.  I have prayed, cried, and sought the Lord perhaps more fervently than ever before, and as always, He has been faithful to provide resolution, peace, and comfort.  Though I don't have all the answers, I have more of Him than I've had in the past, because with each new experience we go through with God, we grow.  Or, at least we should, but this growth often involves difficult choices.  What choices are you faced with today, and will you choose God?