Stuck on the Same Lesson

I've realized that I am stuck on the same lesson as last year. While I am learning other things, it's still about my struggle believing that I was loved while I was yet a sinner. That transformational truth hasn't sunk its teeth into my heart deep enough yet. Here's an excerpt from an old blog that still rings true:

I've learned a lot this year about the darker places in myself that I have always swept into the corner. I'm not who I want to be, and I certainly can't handle things on my own. I desperately need Jesus. Always have, always will. I have always wanted to make myself into someone worthy of approval. While I may believe differently theologically, functionally I've been trying to accumulate my own righteousness for a long time. Essentially, I've been trying to convince everyone else (and myself) that I was good. God's tearing it all down, reminding me that a religion of self-improvement is oppositional to the message of the Gospel. The Gospel says, "You're a mess, but let ME fix YOU." It's not telling me, "You're a mess, let me get you started and then you fix you." Though it may be a humbling experience--this 101 in realizing the depths of my sin--it certainly is one that leads to greater freedom and peace, because you realize He loved you first. And He still loves you, before you get any "better."

ABBA, help me believe and surrender.

Thirsty

So. For the past three days, I have possessed an insatiable thirst. You may think I am being figurative, but no... my words are quite literal. I cannot get enough water. I drink glass after glass, bottle after bottle. I'm still thirsty. I feel mostly normal in every other regard. I do so hope this is a phase.

There's another kind of thirst, though, that I long for. A thirst for the Lord. Oh, how I desire to be insatiably thirsty for Jesus. If only I could be driven by intense and unrelenting instinct to drink full of sweet time with him at every opportunity. I want to be always thirsty, but I find that I only drink at scheduled meals--like morning devotions and pre-dinner prayers. NO! I want a thirst that drives me to drink of Jesus at every moment. Abba, make me thirsty--and give me Living Water.

A Prayer

A while ago, I journaled this prayer after reading about Jesus healing the lame man in the book of Mark. The prayer keeps coming back to me, more potent than before. I thought it was worth sharing.

Abba,

I am so quickly overwhelmed by my imperfections--physically, emotionally, intellectually ,spiritually. but instead of healing my lame feet, you say, "Daughter, your sins are forgiven." What? I think you forgot. I came in with a different problem. But you knew my need. Yes. You knew.  needed to be right with You. So you forgave me. Remade me. You told me my identity should be wrapped up in my forgiven-and-loved status with you. I need to quit seeing my lame feet and rejoice in my free heart. You are what I need, not an A+ intellect and perfect performance. You are what I need, not affirmation through the respect of my peers and colleagues. You are what I need. Help me rest in the Gospel as a beloved daughter, and, freed from fear, carry on with strength and (your) wisdom.

...
And there's more.
But long and short of it-- He has a better perspective and a better plan.

Make Believe

When we were young, we just like to pretend to work like mom and dad---playing kitchen, mowing the lawn, etc. We grow a little older, and we ponder what we want to "be when we grow up." It's all about becoming. Then, all of the sudden, we are adults. The long anticipated future is not at all like play. It's only intermittently fun. It's tiring. It's even lonely.

But do we have to think like that? What if we challenged ourselves not to think of the weekend as our "me" time, our rest, our joy. What if we believed that a life lived in front of Jesus can be full of joy and pleasure at every turn? Weariness, sure... but what if we dared to enjoy the mundane? What if we pushed to delight in our work by remembering that God instituted work before the fall? We were meant to care for and cultivate something-- and that something was not a love of self. It was world. A world of  creativity and beauty, made for the glory of our Creator. Our work is not just an economic necessity--it's part of who we were made to be. Sure, not all of us our in our ideal job. Some of us serve in an under-appreciated position as wives and mommas. Some of us (*cough, cough*) find our ideal job a little more daunting than anticipated! :)

I'm preaching to myself. I have always looked forward to working, but real life has been a wake-up call. It's filled with unforeseen challenges, tough decisions, temptation to worry, helplessness to fix the world's brokenness, and more. I love teaching, but it's so time consuming that sometimes I get irritated that I do not have time to do as I please in the evenings--or even on my Saturdays. Sometimes I worry way too much about the loans I'm not paying off very quickly. Sometimes I worry about what next year will bring.

Maybe it's time I rethink my definition of the good life. I think I define "the good life" as life full of time to spend how I please, the ability to regularly be with my dear friends, and financial security.

But really, the good life is every day, every step with Jesus, isn't it?

I hope I can learn to walk like that.

Wow

I was always told my first year of teaching would be hard. I had no idea how hard it would be. It's been full of mistakes, insufficiency, and fear. I keep running back to Lord, begging him to help me to lean on  him and trust him... but I am constantly giving into worry and fear.

Why I am so afraid? The worst I can do is fail. Nothing can separate me from God's love. And yet, I am finding that perhaps the way I perceive my value is not so securely attached to Jesus. I want to be perfect. I want to be blameless. I want to be respected. I want to know that I am valued by my co-workers and the parents of my students.

Every mistake, however small, sends me spiraling into a circle of worry in my brain. FATHER! Help me to stop it. I know that the only way I can be what I want to be is by putting my hope and trust in you. Then you will help me. I've got to stop trying to hold myself up and let you hold me up.

Help me to remember that while I try to become a better teacher, the most important thing I have to do is pray for my kids and show your love to them. Help me remember that while I have a great responsibility, my ability to step up to the challenge comes from you. Help me be overwhelmed by your love and let that love spill out of me.

O, Father! I am so weak. I am most certainly a broken jar of clay--even more than I had ever yet realized. Yet, you will use me for something beautiful.

The other day, I sat on my porch and wrote this:

Ice cream
On the porch
The last of the half gallon
Straight from the container
It's Cookies and Cream

Weariness can't be cured
By ice cream
Fear can't be assuaged
By oreos
And yet, in such a simple thing
God says
There exists good in life
Don't forget
In the midst of your fear
And guilt
In the middle of your inadequacy
While discouragement rages
Take a moment and look at the little things
There exists good in life
There are glimpses of beauty
There are marks of a better place
There is pain
There is sin
You are full of both
But God is good
And he gives good gifts
He gives good gifts only
Don't be fooled by ugly wrapping paper

Fighting My Flesh

Sometimes I get irked. So irked.

While many Christians are out in the thick of the world, being persecuted for their faith, living lives sold out to Jesus, I have enough trouble just fighting my flesh! I can barely get beyond the mess inside of me to move out into the world and affect change. When I start to reach out, to talk about Jesus, I get discouraged by how much more I want to know and how few relationships I can really handle.

I'm a mess. God, I know you use messes, and that you really like to use messes. I just don't see how.

Example 1: Made a Spanish-speaking Mormon friend. It was going great, and then all of the sudden my Spanish took a nose dive a few weeks in. Now, I'm scared to try talking because I mess up so much. Additionally, I don't know enough about the Mormon faith vs. Christianity to talk intelligently in English, much less Spanish. (That's on the to-do list, learning more.) Additionally, I feel like all my knowledge of how to prove different parts of my faith has vanished in to thin air. I want to get a seminary education overnight.

Example 2: Struck up a conversation with a lady at the pool. Got to talk with her for a long time and talk about God's work in my life. (This is like... conversation number four of a similar type with people from the apartment.) I was so excited to keep up a friendship and then talk more about the Gospel. Then I realized, this is hard work. I've already made more non-Christian friends than I know what to do with... and I need a Christian girl friend around to help hold me up. I can't handle this all. Who am I to think these people actually want to be friends with me?

But. Jesus lives. I can face this. I can know that God wins, no matter how discouraged I am about my selfishness and my inadequacy. God wins. I know that I can't take responsibility for saving the world, but I can let Jesus spill out all over in my conversation. I will tire, but God will strengthen.

Well. At least it's probably safe to say I've become more sanctified in the area of humility. :) Praise Jesus, I'm not alone!

Scrambled thoughts of a saved sinner, enjoy.

April

Context

Here's an old little something I wrote two years ago. I found it searching for a copy of my testimony to tweak for a job application. It struck chords in my heart again today, so I thought I'd share.

"You are weak, so weak"
The truth beats against me like an angry wave
"You are a failure, you are so dirty, you are broken"
More truth stings my face like a slap
But no truth should be spoken out of context

Weak, yes, but Strong in Him
Failure, yes, but He doesn't judge me by my success
Dirty, yes, but washed by His blood
Broken, yes, but He's holding me together
He is the context,
The constant, concrete context

I am because He is.
He rose so I could live.
Context.
It makes a world of difference; it pieces my life back together.

He is the context that all that I am is forever wrapped up in.
Everything makes so much more sense in Context.
In Context, broken glass is beautiful,
The shards of me reflecting His light
My Context.
They may not understand the Context, but they cannot take me out of my Context.
United with Christ has a deeper meaning.
Christ is my Context.