Post-School Downtime

a christmas wreath on lovely purple walls

I feel so relieved to be finished with school, to not be a student anymore that part of me is like "GAH - never want to do anything useful ever again." and part of me is like "Now that school is done, EVERYTHING else in my life must change." These changes includes hair color, career focus, maybe even my current location.

Sometimes I'm able to speak sense to myself and say, "No, it's important to keep getting up in the morning." Sometimes I manage to convince myself that I shouldn't try to change everything at once.

Sometimes, though, I get caught up in this urgency, this feeling of needing something solid, something time-consuming. I feel frantic and when nothing moves, nothing changes, I feel desperate and like I'm failing as the moments pass away.

My brother and I went testing for the last time this morning. He owned two CLEPS one right after another and I finished writing my very, very last test. Afterwards, we went out to celebrate. He got orange soda in an old fashion glass bottle and I got caffe latte with 2%. As the sun steamed through the window at Starbucks and warmed our shoulders, he turned to look at me.
                "You don't seem very excited about being finished with school forever."
                I smiled, amused but a bit perturbed at myself. "I'm happy to be done, but I'm scared because now I don't have the option of giving the wrong answer and only getting a bad grade. If I make the wrong decisions now, I can fail at life."
              I'm one of those people who often processes thoughts by speaking or writing them. I hadn't realize how truly I felt that until I said it to Stephen.

I'm scared of failing real life. There's no artificial bubble of institutions or textbooks to protect me. I have to find my purpose beyond school.

How far-reaching and ridiculous does it sound to be afraid of 'failing at life'? I'm trying to be honest. I'm trying to indulge the drama in a healthy way. So... I'm terrified. It doesn't help to see these amazing women around me who have endless energies and abilities and seemingly boundless hope and fabulousness. And I just melt into a little puddle of discouragement, thinking. "I want that so much, but I'll never be that."

So wrong. I know how wrong it is. Typing it out just makes me feel a little more how wrong it is. Now that I've indulged the drama, I will tell myself the truth.

God has made me to be just the person I am. He hasn't failed in creating my personality, my emotional capacity, my physical ability, my disposition or my particular ways of expressing myself. Yes, I am given the ability to change and grow, but I don't need to change in order to increase his love for me. (Oh, that just helped me breathe a sigh of relief.)

God is the director of my times and he is the creator of my success. Because of him, I will not fail at life. Looking back, I see how he has guided me and brought me to a safe place, to a rock that is higher, to a fortress that is untouchable. He has brought me to where I consistently feel my need of his presence. I know that the journey we've begun together will continue.

Downtime is healthy, though. I think I'll lay here on the floor for a little longer.

R<3

thankful with Ann for -

698 first study party ever with Esther

699 dressingroom confessions with the same

700 cameras, particularly digital ones with lots of megapixels

701 an exultant half hour biking in a spurt of sun in an almost entirely cloudy day

702 having a sister-in-law

703 getting a call from Daviey as he returns from the honeymoon cruise

704 an older brother who is such a great role model and example

705 Fair's Disappearing World album on repeat in my room

706 Fair's Take Some Risks on repeat in fragments in my head

707 a Jessica friend

708 an Abby friend who inspires me with her love and talent

709 Anna and her husband Aaron and their little unborn Pixie stopping by for lunch

710 discovering a blogger who loves Jesus

711 the hope that comes from believing that God is not done

Drama Daze

(credit)

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a drama queen. There's something dreadfully exciting and addicting about creating situations in my head and imagining that everything hinges on a single event. I go through my share of adrenaline.

It comes with costs, though. Sometimes the drama in my head blows situations with friends and aquaintances into something bigger than a hot air balloon. Sometimes it makes me believe things that would seem ridiculous if I could keep my feet on the ground. I've been learning to choose what drama I invest in. Hard lesson, let me tell you.

Despite mishaps, there are some things positive about drama. First thing, there really is a life-and-death, cement and grass world full of tearing and breakage. My awareness of drama is not unrealistic. Drama exists. People get sick. People need healing and restoration with God.

I'm thankful for drama because when it makes me feel like I'm on the razor-edge of something terrible, like I'm teetering on the cliff of forever-nothingness and then... then, I find God. He totally gets me and my drama. He feels huge emotions too, sweepingly strong love, desperately black hatred - what's more, he created those emotions. I can come falling and crawling and crying, full of drama and he can handle it. He listens and I once again find him to be everything I need him to be.

One of my favorite dramatic musician friends is Bebo Norman. One of his songs is called Can't Live Without You.

You found me here
I'm barely breathing
You picked me up
But I'm still wanting more


You're the ocean deep
I'm in up to my knees
Wanting desperately to drown
You're the one bright part
Of my languid heart
You're the love I cannot live without
I can't live without


I can't live without you
Can you hold on, because you hold everything

Sounds like drama, but it's all true. This kind of drama, this acute knowing how much I need God, this desperation - this is the kind of drama I need all day long.

R<3

Witness Sunshine Coming

I'm going to tell you a story and I will warn you - it's not exactly a happy one. It's not a tale of sweet daisies and sunshine. Okay, so there was sunshine but not in the metaphorical sense.

So thanks to Madeline's inspiring post and the teaching we'd been having in the College and Career class sunday mornings, I was really feeling called to witness to someone. I kept passing people and having brief contacts, like with a woman in the bathroom at Target and I kept almost going there, beginning words in my mind, but never quite making it through.

One of the things I'd heard in class that just stuck out like the Eiffel Tower in my mind was this phrase, "You are free to go and love people." The Gospel frees me from slavery to other people's opinions to do the most loving thing I could for them - tell them about Jesus.

Then, flash to Caribou. I'm sitting there in the sunshine, drinking my hot cinnamon spice tea and reading my Intercultural Communication textbook and this gal comes by and she pretty much epitomizes openness. She sits down right next to me in an armchair and we chat a bit about the weather and where she lived. We kept talking a bit and there was actually another woman sitting one armchair away from us and she joined in the conversation for a moment which made it even more of a daring jump for me to ask her about her religious background. But I did it.

Now I wish this had been a beautiful, spiritual inspirational encounter and I could say I led her through the ten commandments, she realized her failings before God and she asked, "What must I do to be saved?" and I told her, prayed with her and left her a tract.

But none of that happened. It just didn't. I felt like a fumble-muffin, sogging through a mire with a mind that wouldn't work. We got meshed in discussion about Bible translations and the authenticity of Scripture and part of me was just crying, thinking I want to hear your story! Don't tell me what you believe, tell me where you've been, tell me the hurt places and please, please let me tell you about the Healer.

We never got that far. She kept arguing with me, almost absolutely opposed and oppressed by the absolutes that people like me kept trying to fit her worldview and her 'Higher Power' into the Bible. She finally said with more than a hint of irritation, "Look, I was planning to come here to enjoy reading my book, not get into some big theological discussion with someone who will never understand my worldview."

I backed off: my feelings were hurt and I was unsure whether more talk would help or hurt. We had some more small discussion and I learned her name. Joanne. I learned she was also a single mom. Although she didn't want to make absolute decisions or carry her beliefs to their logical end, I have one weapon to use and I will. I'm praying for Joanne and her dear five-year-old Alexandria.

Almost always after I witness to someone, I feel sick - even physically sick, shaky with weird feelings in my stomach, a tightness in my shoulders and a dread. I believed in spiritual warfare before today, but this experience makes me believe it even more. When I came home from the coffee shop, I felt so scared, defeated and battered that I went downstairs to my room and waited for God. I bowed down low and prayed. I bowed and yes, I was crouching low to protect myself from Satan and his lies, but I also bowed to surrender all the events and feelings and seeming failure. I bowed down low because I was begging that God would give me a trust in him that surpassed my understanding of the situation.




God told me some things. He told me he loves it when his daughter hears his voice and witnesses in the midst of fear. He also reminded me of the fact that he often uses several encounters with the Gospel to save people. Maybe I was one of those encounters for Joanne. Maybe this cloudy story has sunshine coming.

Thanks for reading, friends. This has been weighing heavily on me and I'm glad I could write it down.

R<3


Listening to NeedToBreathe - Lay 'Em Down (Yeah, I'm learning how. Love these guys and their enthusiasm.)

all you sinners and the weak at heart

all you helpless on the boulevard
bring all of your troubles, come lay 'em down

Warrior

I read a verse today. It said,

Stand up and strap on the belt of truth. It will keep your sanity on.
It said, strap on a breastplate of righteousness. It will keep the guilt at bay.

Strap on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. It will keep you from being consumed by your own problems. It will help you remember joy.
It said pick up and don't put down the shield of faith. It will protect you from devastating lies.
Take up the helmet of salvation. Wear it like a crown. Ram condemnation like a bull!
Take up the word of God. Be reverent and grateful. Pray you will honor it. It will keep you in the Spirit of God.
Get down on your knees for other saints. Don't wrap yourself up in your own issues. Look for others who need help and support.

It said, be a warrior, woman.

R<3

Type-y Type

(credit)

Guest post at visionarywomen. It's a repost of the one I did about wedding dresses and modesty. :)

Tiredness.

New black boots + gray wool coat = set for winter.

Thankfulness.

The moment that I start to rely on myself is the moment things go sour. It's not that things can't be disappointing or discouraging when I'm relying on God, but I'm protected when I know God has my best interest at heart.When I start believing the lie that I have to manage everything on my own, it seems like everything has the power to cut down my dreams and turn me into an insecure little mess. Note to self: trust in God. Always. Just do it.

Does anyone want to guest-post on my blog? If you do, email me at colormylifewithlove@gmail.com. I'm pretty open to whatever kind of topics you might come up with.

R<3

Listening to Gungor - Please Be My Strength (my prayer as I get ready for work tomorrow... so tired, but waiting on strength from the Lord)

Truths In The Cracks Of Life

Staring up at a white plaster ceiling, I asked myself. What does it mean for God to be my refuge right now?

I asked again during a long day at work, partially deaf in an awkward isolated silence.
I asked again when  I came home from ten hours at work and wanted raspberry white chocolate scones and not because I was hungry.
I asked again when I agreed to go running for the first time in months with a friend who runs almost everyday.

God being my refuge means I'm safe when I can't interact with people how I usually do - I don't need to rely on my social skills to ensure I am loved*.
It means I'm safe to rely on Him rather than food,- because He satisfies*.
It means I'm safe to go running and be ready to fail and be out of breath because failure would not be the end of the world.

God being my refuge means replacing lies with truth. It means studying to know how to answer the lies that creep and crawl like lichen on forest trees. I know the wide truths - the love, the mercy, the wonderful justice - but I want to know how they fit into each tiny crack of my life. God is my refuge.

Let your steadfast love be upon us, Oh Lord, even as we hope in you.

God, you are my refuge, right now.

R<3

Listening to Fair - Disappearing World
Linking with Imperfect Prose

Never Without Prayer

(credit)

This is something I've been pondering. I have issues that do not seem to be solved by continued prayer, but I can know this for sure - they will never be solved without prayer. My friend Courtney told me she had scheduled in (actually wrote it in on her calender) some extended time for prayer and that inspired me. Instead of giving up on God coming through for me, I need to go to him and ask him what he wants me to change. I can start with me. And it begins with learning to wait.

***

In other news, I guest-posted about How To Write a Personal Vision Statement over at Madeline's lovely blog Flame In Darkness this morning! Go check it out!

Also, I updated my blogroll! Go look, you might be on it! :)

R<3

Listening to Switchfoot - Awakening (have seriously had this song stuck in my head for the past twenty-four hours)

I Decided, God Provided

(credit)

After nine hours of study, I

• read eight chapters of text, 
• wrote three discussion posts and responded to my classmates' posts,
• a self-analysis paper,
• and an essay paper

I made it!! Thanks everyone for your prayers! I'm all caught up! If you don't mind, I'm just going to sit here and enjoy the view from the top for a moment.

Say to those who have an anxious heart, "Be strong! Fear not! Behold your God - He will come and save you*." God really does. As Spurgeon says of our beloved Savior, "He cannot but succeed: leave yourself entirely in His hands."*

R<3

Listening to Reagan - Come Ye Sinners (I know this girl! I love the harmony in this song.)

Christians As Biscuit Dough

"While growing up in Texas, I enjoyed my mother's buttermilk biscuits made from "scratch" every morning for breakfast. But there was not a single ingredient in those biscuits that I would have enjoyed by itself. And even after they were mixed together, I would not have cared for the raw biscuit dough. Only after they were mixed together in the right proportions by my mother's skillful hands and then subjected to the fire of the oven were they ready to be enjoyed for breakfast. 

The "things" in Romans 8:28* are like the ingredients of the biscuit dough. By themselves they are not tasteful to us. We shun them. And we certainly shun the heat of the oven. But when God in his infinite skill has blended them all together and cooked them properly in the oven of adversity, we shall one day say, it is good." -Jerry Bridges, from Trusting God Even When Life Hurts

***

Up early again and so, so blessed by this book. Thinking about it, I'm feel so raw and pasty. I feel the unformness of all I am. My life is a mess, honestly, but it helps to remember that I'm dough! I am indescribably thankful for my Master Chef. He is working*. He is, he is, he is. Someday, I will beautiful and useful, sweetened by the trials and solidified and sanctified in faith because of the heat of the oven. Oh I can't wait. 

Redeeming love has been my theme and shall be til I die... and I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you (and me!) will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

R<3 

Listening to NeedToBreathe - A Place Only You Can Go (recommended by a fellow music lover)

(Both pictures are from this blog and the recipe actually looks really good! Anyone up for making biscuits with me? :D)

If This, Then God

Tonight was a good night. I wore purple plaid, ate grilled cheese and took a long hot bath. Did you know some people say spending time in water is a necessary part of maintaining mental sanity? It's like therapy... reminding us of what it was like in our mother's womb. I love the sound of water against my eardrums. I love how everything seems so faraway.


I've recently recalled a thing called Hope. I relive words I wrote a long time ago and they remain true, but I can see I've taken a few steps forward. It gives me more hope. I'm not where I once was. 


Beth Moore was talking about her fears once. You know that fear, where the very beginning thoughts of it just paralyze you? In her case, she was fearing that her husband would leave her. She would just begin to think about it and it would give her panic attacks. She had a conversation with God that I think about a lot. She said God asked her to take her fears to their furthest extent. She walked through what would happen if her husband did leave her. She said, "Well God, it would be just you and me and I'd pray a lot and memorize a whole lot of scripture and we'd make it through. You've seen me through a huge number of things and I know you won't leave me now." She brought it down to this equation.


If _______(your greatest fear), then God. 


When God says nothing can separate me from his love, baby, he means nothing. Not even my own stupidity. So there, self. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. 


Oh and I put lights up in my room. This is currently my view from where I'm sitting. Every morning I feel like I'm living in a fairytale, like Tangled when they released all the lanterns. 


R<3


Listening to Brandi Carlile - The Story (Seriously, listen to what this girl can do with her voice. It's crazyridiculousfabulously cool.)


thankful with Ann for -

593 napping in the sun

594 in the sight of my weakness and his awesome work, my strength of soul increases

595 the joy of my church family, rejoicing that Victor's battle with cancer is over

596 though our physical bodies die, our life in Christ flourishes today and will forever

597 blueberry banana whip by the campfire

598 a gentleman with a cast and crutches managing to hold the door for me and another lady

599 my mother buying me a pink plaid shirt - just what I wanted

600 the invention of glass windows

601 nursing assistant training

602 spiral bound notecards

603 google translate

Jesus and Victor

(credit)

I'm sitting here at my keyboard, going down my Facebook feed and just crying. A family in our church, their fourteen-year-old son Victor died this morning after a long fight with cancer. His story is an amazing one. The W family met him when their other daughter was diagnosed with cancer and Victor was going through chemotherapy at the same time. Victor's family couldn't take care of him and the W family adopted him and he met Jesus. Before he died, he was sharing the gospel with his birth family and shortly before his death, we heard that three of the eight of them had accepted Jesus. He was an amazing little boy. The whole church is mourning.

Patrick - Goodbye Victor, you have blessed my life so much, but now you are held in God's hand and i know you'll never feel pain again. We'll miss you here but i'm also happy for you, because you knew where you were going. You went to go meet Jesus this morning and you'll be with Him forever. I pray for your family and i love you buddy, see you when i get there.

Christina - Goodbye Victor. I will miss ushering with you. Say "hi" to Jesus for me. (:

Karen - Sorrowful...yet rejoicing...

Sarah - Victor was an amazing little boy who has been a light in the darkness. He passed away last night. See you soon little man.

Kelsey - Rest in peace Victor. Praise God for your story and a race well run.

Christina - "We will dance on the streets that are golden—the glorious bride and the great Son of Man. From every tongue and tribe and nation, we'll join in the song of the Lamb." I miss you so much, Victor, but you truly are in a much better place.

His sister Elise posted this song - Matt Maher - Christ is Risen

His dad - Victor Manuel passed into eternity earlier this morning at the age of 14 yrs. He ran a good race, and finished well. To God be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Good-bye little buddy. See you soon.

Yeah, it probably wasn't any use to put on makeup today. In some ways, these tears are ones of intense joy. Early this morning, he saw the face of King Jesus. He will never be in pain anymore. 

Victor is now a victor is every sense of the word. But I miss him. We miss him.

R<3

Belong There

(credit)

This morning, my arms got chilly as I biked to work. As soon as the calender page blew up to reveal September, the wind responded by taking temperature down a few notches. Now I arrive pinkish and still cool. It's not blustery yet, but I'm gradually remembering what cold weather is like.

I work every other weekend. And almost without fail, as I bike at 6:25 every morning, I pass a biker going the opposite direction. And when I say biker, I mean a legit biker, with a ferocious road bike, decked out in a jersey, sun glasses and the I'm-a-serious-biker helmet. On the other hand, I look nothing like a serious biker - in my comfy work clothes, pink hippo Vans, with my big backpack on, riding a touring bike, but as we pass each other, he always give me a thumbs up and a nod. It makes my day every single time. It's kind of like we, two strangers, share a kinship. We're bikers - early morning bikers at that - and that gives us something in common. It makes me happy to belong.

(credit)

I felt that distinct sense of belonging at church during worship last night. There are some people at my church who are crazy in love with God and it is so inspiring. The first seven rows are like the mosh pit of the worship service. :) One guy behind me was singing at the top of his lungs and I'm sure everyone in the sanctuary could hear him. His complete abandonment made me realize how silly it is when we're self-conscious in worship. It's about praising God, for heaven's sake, not about impressing our neighbors.

The church is a beautiful place. There are people who "look" more like Christians and those who look like they don't belong at all, but we all share something in common. We share a grateful heart of worship for a Savior who claimed us. The fact that we're all undeserving levels the grounds for judgement. We shouldn't nitpick at each other and fix each other up so we look matchy-matchy. We can come, dragging our dirty laundry and our messed-up attitudes and drop them all before the King and dance in his presence. He loves the mess. He finds joy in healing and reordering our messes.

Oh, the church is a beautiful place and you and I, we belong there.

R<3

Listening to Michael Buble - Lost

I Found It

i've found the one who has perspective

only He doesn't sell it -

He spills it freely

and what's more

He created it -

some just for me

shamed and grateful tears

i curl myself small

both because i do matter

and because i don't

***

I've been having quite the time with school over here, but hey guess what? God's grace is steadiness amidst my wobbling. (I just need to keep repeating that to myself.)

"What is my barrenness? It is the platform for His fruit-creating power.

What is my desolation? It is the black setting for the sapphire of His everlasting love."

"Come with the blind eye of darkened understanding: come with the limping foot of wasted energy: come with the maimed hand of weak faith, the fever of an angry temper or the ague of shivering despondency; come just as you are, for He who is God can certainly restore you."

-Spurgeon

How amazing is that last quote?! I read it late one night, exhausted and stressed and as I read, I felt my body release tension and my soul lift lighter. Thank you, God, for taking me just as I am, drama, unbelief, pride and all.

R<3

Listening to Foster The People - Pumped Up Kicks

3:40am

(credit)

I'm writing this at 3:40am. Normally, I like to be asleep right now. As a wee lassie, I was terrified of the dark and due to snippets of some *ahem* horror movies and my naturally skittish imagination, I've never liked being up at night. However lately, I've had some experience with insomnia. One of the cool things I can think about that, is 'Sweet, now I'm like Adam Young!". There's a lyric in Fireflies:

leave my door open just a crack

please take me away from here,

'cause I feel like such an insomniac

Apparently, he wrote most of Ocean Eyes because he couldn't sleep. A bit of a loss for him, but major win for the rest of the world. :)

Back to insomnia... I've learned that being awake at night isn't the worst thing. God is constant no matter how much light is outside. Also, there are worse things than too little sleep. I usually get up and write or read or just quietly talk to God. Now I actually enjoy it in some odd way. I don't get panicky over my loss of sleep. That took awhile to learn, but I believe it's a little picture of how God likes to create beauty and praise in a place that was previously scary and self-centered.

I got this from Jeremiah 33*.

Call to me and I will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known... I have hidden my face from this city because of all their evil [but] behold, I will bring it to health and healing and I will heal them and reveal to them abundance of prosperity and security. I will cleanse them from all the guilt of their sin against me. And this city shall be to me a name of joy, a praise and a glory. They shall fear and tremble because of all the good and all the prosperity I provide for it.

Essentially, God delights to create joy and praise in a place that was previously sorrowful and self-centered. Although I've experienced this in a very small way with my insomnia, I have seen it in other ways in my life and I have faith that God will continue to affect every part of my life.

I can't wait! Imagine every sad or scared part of your life being transformed by God. He can do it.

R<3

Listening to Owl City - To The Sky

To A Friend (3)

(I wanted to post a fashion post and the pictures are here on my computer, but Flickr is mucha tootsie-slow tonight, so it'll have to be later.)

(credit)

Pause for a moment and remember that God is with you. Seriously. Close your eyes and remember that he is right there in the room with you and his constant love has not abated for a minute. It didn't even blip when you made your stupid mistakes. The main thing is not reconciling your view of yourself, but understanding God and his view of you. He loves you.

If you care to top that thought, remember that he planned every situation and event in your life. Maybe you can't see how your failure could be worked for good, but remember, 'our good' is becoming more like Jesus. Plus, maybe your failure in other people's lives is teaching them to rely more on Jesus. I know that people's 'failures' to me made me go to God and rely on him.

I'm feeling very much where you are. God doesn't necessarily design our lives to be happy and funny. Explosions are common. You can't control your life or 'be a good enough Christian' so they don't. Trust God with where you are.

Love you! Be well. I'm praying.

R<3

I Have Another House

(credit)

Last week, a new resident moved into one of our assisted living homes. Because of her advanced dementia, she can't stay with her family any longer. Her transition has been touchy. When she's not humming along with any music she hears or coloring in her five-year-old coloring books, she sits in her chair, repeating over and over to herself, "This is not my house. This is not my house. I don't live here." Brow crinkly-anxious and thick hands angrily pounding on the chair arms, she does not understand why she's still here and her family hasn't come yet. Also, who was this frustrating girl who keeps telling me I'm supposed to be here?

Today, I worked with her a long time. When she told me this wasn't her house and she has a house, a 'red-brick house, with lots of milk and a bigger bed', I told her, "You have two houses. You're at your other one them right now. There's milk at this house too and here is your other bed." I think she understood. Gradually, she'd calm as she began saying. "I have another house. I have another house. They're coming for me."

I wonder... if being in the world, not of it, looks a little bit like that. This world is not my home, but I live here. I have another house and He's coming for me.

R<3

Matters Of The Art

(credit)

As I said in my last post, I struggle to express myself creatively sometimes. Part of that is because I fold in on myself, focusing so much on having to write something brilliant, that I paralyze myself with fear. (Two articles that totally inspire me to artistic endeavors are here and here.) That being said, I find that in my most honest moments with God, I find my voice creatively and I like most the things I just say to God.

gasping struggle

pen on page

just tell me who I am

I know I've heard the words

so often before

but say them slow

and soft again for me

because I like the way

Your voice is tender on my soul

I like Your fortitude

in my wobbling

I like the way this peace

hides me like a curtain

in a place of honesty and rest

a place for God and sinner

Short post tonight, but I hope every artist who reads this takes hope. Your art matters. Even if your book doesn't become a best-seller or your pictures don't make it into a magazine, you can and will affect someone.

R<3

Listening to Keith Green - Make My Life A Prayer To You

Surviving The Torture Room

(credit)

Sometimes school feels like drawn-out torture. But then I realize, it's a test of character. Am I going to face-up to it and take on the challenge? Or am I going to let it reduce me to a sodden pile of emotions? Something to think about.

(Yes, it is melodramatic of me to call school a Torture Room. I truly am thankful for the opportunity to get an education.)

I'm linking to some great stuff I've read lately:

How To Reject (And How NOT To Reject) A Man - Preston on Ally's blog

Fifteen - Vicki

Can't Go By The Feeling - Alyssa Ann

Surrender - Chels

I want to learn to rise to a challenge. When I struggle on, I show the Strength that is not from within me.

R<3

Listening to OneRepublic - Mercy

My Testimony - God In My Life

Hi guys, I mentioned awhile ago that I was writing up my testimony and here it is! Sorry it's a bit of a long read but hey, I like bragging on my great God! If you guys have any questions or comments, I'd love to hear them.

********

I was sick that day. Hot and heavy sick, with my body is so tired it couldn't move and nothing tasted good. I had glassy eyes, but an awake and roving mind amidst all the quiet in bed and off and on sleep. I was six years old and I remember that day, lying on our plastic-y green leather couch, with my full array of bedding arranged about me. Alone in the living room, I was looking out our giant picture window at the wind stirring the trees outside. My tired mind kept trying to make sense of the patterns that the branches made and I wondered if Jesus would come back from that angle and if I would see Him coming through the branches, a bunch of light breaking the flat gray of the sky. I remember thinking about Jesus coming back with a sick feeling in my stomach - like I should be thinking of it happily because Mommy and Daddy did and the pastor at church would say it joyfully - but I didn't know if He'd be happy to see me, if my heart belonged to Him.

Whether it was later that night or even later than that, I don't recall, but it was dusk then because the lights were on inside, the livingroom a warm-yellow haven removed from the darkened streets, but I felt anything but safe. I don't know how long I sat alone, terrified, but I remember starting to crying hysterically when my mother came in and asked me how I was. She must have seen how scared I was. "I don't want to go to hell, Mommy. I don't want to be an outcast." She hugged me and asked me if I want to pray. I don't remember her emotions in that situation but I remember mine - desperate. Please Jesus, save me from hell and from going away from You and from light and from everyone and everything good. Please, let me be one of Your little ones and be my Savior. God tells us to come to Him as little children, with faith and says anyone who believes on Him, He will accept*. As a timid six-year-old, I threw myself on God with all my desperation. I knew that He was the only one who could really save me. And He did.

I was a sensitive middle child with a people-pleasing complex and thus stayed out of trouble in a lot of ways. Jak, my sister just fourteen months older than me, was much more outspokenly rebellious and even if I agreed with her rebellion, I kept my rebellion inside and tried to be subtle about getting away with things. I honestly don't remember much about my childhood, but I remember loving Pastor Butler's sermons and singing enthusiastically with the hymns. I remember wrestling with whether or not I was really saved, partly because of sins I couldn't seem to conquer. One late Sunday afternoon, our youthful study group sat with Pastor Butler on his sunlit trampoline going through the book How Can I Be Sure I'm A Christian by Donald Whitney. I tried to reassure myself because of the changes I'd seen in myself - the 'good works' that accompany faith - but the book title itself touched my deepest fear and just paralyzed me. How did I know whether God had chosen me?

When I was thirteen, after a move, a lot of uprooting and a new church with new faces, I definitely feeling like the self-conscious and awkward teenager I was becoming. I couldn't find a single place where I belonged and I was feeling in new ways the burden and weight of the sins I carried. By my mother's example and God's grace and after a lot of failure, I was finally succeeding at having a regular devotional time in the morning. I have a vivid memory of sitting in our storage room on an ugly red chair just crying. I'd gotten a glimpse of what Jesus had done for me and I felt unspeakably unworthy. They were a broken sort of joyful tears. Why me, God? I never did anything. Why me? It was a beautiful moment. It all became real and went from 'God saved me from hell' to 'God saved me from myself and claimed me as his own*'. I finally saw the connection between my own deep need and unworthiness and God's salvation plan.

At about sixteen, I decided I need a best friend. I took a little while picking her out, but Emily was amazing. Still is, actually, but there was one problem. She had another really good friend, who was practically a best friend and took up most of her time. My supposed-to-be best friend was unaware of the struggles and tears I had as I felt rejected and unwanted by the merry pair. This might sound odd, but God planned that experience for me so I would reach a pivotal place in my relationship with Him. For weeks and months, I agonized, crying to God, wondering why He hadn't given me that one special friend who could always be there for me, support me, love me and know me. Around February, the stress, anxiety and bitterness I was carrying, coupled with lack of sunshine and exercise, caused me to descend into a pretty severe depression. The emotional deadness and spiritual darkness I went through then still sobers me. I was incredibly wrapped up in myself, in self-pity and entitlement, but God still had a hold on me. I would sit in my dark room, crying yet feeling nothing. Finally, I said to God, "Okay, God, even if it's only ever You, I trust You." That was the turning point. I'd finally understood the lesson God was teaching me - to trust Him no matter what*.

God has brought me through many more things, seemingly small things, but ones that have a big significance in my spiritual life. One of the things that I've prayed for sporadically, but sincerely, is a heart tender to know God and do His will and I believe He's granted that. I have deeply embedded faults, huge struggles and major things to work through still, but as Beth Moore says,

"If you have any heart for God, His will will find you." I rest in that.

*******

R<3

All In Fear Of Falling

second coffee on a gray Georgia morning

standing at the foot of a great mystery
fresh from scribbling in a bible study book
about the man after God's own heart*
and the look, the asking
the taking and the baby-making
when he became a father
when he became a murderer

how did he, once close to God,
break six commandments all at once
how did love turn to indifference
devotion to rebellion
and could my own heart
so full of words and prayers and phrases
dissipate like that

does that mean we're all in fear of falling
jumping, running
from the Truth we all now know
does that mean Kempton, Nick or Bebo,
men who follow after God,
might lean away, lose the fight
(not the battle, just the fight)
everyday my pastor prays
and I join in brokenly,
crying from a desperate place

Father God, please keep me faithful
keep me walking in your way
R<3

Listening to Kristian Stanfill - You Will Always Be