Sound of Surviving

It's been a significant 2 years.
But God has been fighting that immense battle, even when I didn't want Him to keep trying.
I'm still here.
This is the sound of surviving.
And trusting.
And learning.
And...here it goes....
Hoping.

a noose and a lifeline

I can no longer speak words of hope with any lightness of meaning behind them. 

Hope is not a light matter, not a simple thing. 

It is both a noose and a lifeline. 

It has the power to destroy, and the power to save. 

If you ever again hear me speak a hopeful phrase 

- and I cannot at this time imagine such a thing -

 know that behind those simple words stands 

a solid constitution, 

an unequivocally proven assurance,

and an unshakable determination 

based on war-hardened truth. 

If I ever choose to hope again, know that God is real and He is alive -

 because He will have won an immense battle for my soul.

God is love

God is Love.

That is how he chose to describe Himself.

Love.

His creation is an incredibly ordered, logical, mathematical, beautiful place. Yet He didn't choose to describe Himself as Reason or as Order or as Logic.

He chose Love.

I think the reality of that choice is astounding, if you truly let yourself pause and ponder it.

refusing rest

I came upon a surprising scripture a couple of days ago while reading in Isaiah. Until roughly a year ago, this verse would have flown right past my eyes and I wouldn't have been able to comprehend its powerful truth:

God has told His people, 

"Here is a place of rest; let the weary rest here. This is a place of quiet rest."

But they would not listen.

-Isaiah 28:12   NLT

The basic context of this chapter is God talking to His people (who have become proud), and then it goes on to speak of judgments that would come because God's people didn't listen to Him when He communicated the above message.

That's when I was hooked. My default to striving, self-sufficiency, and proving my worth were stopped dead, right in my tracks. God was trying to tell them that they could rest, but because they wouldn't believe Him, He had to resort to speaking to them via a much different method. In this particular instance, God's judgment came because they wouldn't believe that He wanted the weary to rest.

He wanted the weary to rest. So much so that He was quite unhappy when they refused to hear Him.

But what about the "learn from the ants who never slumber", and the farmer who reaps only what he sows? I'm a Christian; I'm not supposed to stop. That's irresponsible and unfaithful.

In verse 24 He goes on to talk about how a farmer isn't always sowing his seeds and never reaping the bounty of his harvest, isn't "forever cultivating the soil and never planting the seed". He even says, "The farmer knows just what to do, for God has given him understanding....The Lord of Heaven's Armies is a wonderful teacher, and He gives the farmer great wisdom." (v 26,29) Basically, even the busy farmer of his parable knows when to rest.

All of these years and I have completely missed half of the picture. To rest is not weakness. To rest is not irresponsibility. To rest is not failing. To rest is not a sin.

God wants the weary to rest in Him, in the land that He brought them to. I don't think that just means to get a breather on Sundays, either. I think God goes out of His way to bring us restful circumstances, restful moments, restful people, restful settings. He gets it. He cares. Now it's just up to me to listen and actually let my weary bones rest a while.

two things

Two things I know for sure:

I have no idea where God is leading me.

I know I will arrive there just in time.

the wilderness

Faith has been a big subject in my life lately. I've made many (scary) decisions that I know are good for me, but they've taken more than everything in me to make them - and keep them. Throughout this season, I've often found myself coming back to a scene in my head. I'll try and convey it to you...

When God brought the ten plagues against the Egyptians, it was not only to convince the Pharaoh to let them go, but also so that God could show how powerful He was. He wanted to convince - and save - people by showing them that He was truly the God He claimed to be. While the plagues were happening in Egypt, the Israelites still lived there. They were present with the flies, the frogs, the locusts, the boils - the death. However - and this is a big however - God kept them safe in the midst of their oppressors and the plagues. He kept them safe while they were still in Egypt, the land of their burdens.

Almost as soon as the Israelites were freed and on their way to their own land, the Pharaoh changed his mind about releasing them. He came out to attack them - and God showed His power once again at the Red Sea, saving the people of Isreal from danger by a spectacular show of His ability.

Once the Israelites had left Egypt far behind and were camping in the wilderness with Moses, they often succumbed to fear that God was going to abandon them, or that God was unable to keep them safe out in the wilds of the land. Accepting this fear as fact was the lone reason that their short journey turned into 40 years camping in the wilderness. They didn't believe God would be there when they needed Him, so they decided to stop trusting Him in favor of trusting themselves.

God used grand miracles (and I'm sure also personal ones that didn't make it into the written history) to show His loved people that He was capable of keeping them safe, that He was capable of giving them freedom and a place to rest. He knew faith was needed for the journey ahead, so He gave them tangible moments to hang on to while they were in the wilderness. He wanted them to remember that He could - and would - do everything He had promised. But they forgot about these things. Worse yet, some likely dismissed these miracles as flukes or one-time events.

But the point that keeps coming back to me: God was able to protect them while they were still in Egypt. While they were still in the land they desperately wanted to escape. If He could be with them there, why couldn't He be with them on the journey that He was personally leading them on?

If God could be with me in the moments of my past, in the 'land of my oppressions and burdens', why can't He be with me on the journey He's personally leading me on as we leave that oppressive land?

Yahweh isn't a God who traps those He loves. He has come to set the captives free. And He is capable of keeping them free. All He asks is that we trust Him to do what He promises.

Lord, help me remember Your power when the dark moments come. Remind me of Your grace and Your deep love for me. Help me choose faith instead of fear, so that I don't unwittingly turn a short journey into a lifelong one. Thank you for being the God of my life.

Sunset in the Negev by Matthew J Parker

simple freedom

When you boil it all the way down, it's so simple. 

So very simple.

The most capable and trustworthy being in the universe is saying to me, "Hey, let's go play!"

It's so simple. It's so freeing. I could fly right now.

source unknown

Stand still and watch the salvation of the Lord

This past year was so challenging. I made mistakes, fought and lost battles, and was pushed well beyond my limits. 

I have only 8 more days of employment left and a rent increase that threatens (yet another) move from a home I love. 

So why is it that I feel like I'm present at the beginning of Earth, sitting on the edge of creation, watching as God spreads his artistic science all around, creating this beautiful planet that we all call home? I've always wanted to see that, and here I sit, harried from a tough year, no tangible solutions as to where I'm headed and how I'll pay my bills, and yet I feel like I'm watching God create life itself. 

And all He wants me to do right now is show up and let Him do His thing. 

Okay, God. I'm all in. Just show me which paint strokes I get to play with.

Career epiphany

I had a weird thought today. Weird to me, at least.
I realized that my career ideas have always had a distinct yet nearly subconscious caveat:

"That would do for now, until the real thing falls into place." 

This. This is the thought that I need to pay attention to. This is the reason why I still can't decide on anything. What I really want to do is something that I don't consider a plausible reality for me - what I still don't think I am able or allowed to do - so all of the ideas I'm coming up with in its place are actually just me settling for something else. Something that I can make do with. Again.

Hmm. Food for serious thought.

So I guess the next question becomes: What is that half-formed ideal hidden in my head, and why don't I just jump into that?

Because - if I'm going to go to all this effort to remake my life, why not make it into something I deeply love?

Btw, this book has been immensely helpful in my journey towards healthy work-life integration.

Maybe life isn't about how long you have something, but what you do with it while you have it.

sarah in the bible

Sarah in the Bible.

God promised her something that she desperately wanted but was very hard for her to believe in.
He then delivered exactly as He had promised, but in HIS timing, not hers.

But in the waiting, the long waiting, Sarah's faith faltered, so she used her reasoning and resourcefulness to make happen what God had promised her. Maybe she had thought that God wanted her to make it happen; that His method of providing the promise was through Sarah's own efforts. Can't blame her there. Her intentions were good, but the results were absolutely catastrophic and completely avoidable. They brought her family years of pain and division, and have even carried forward to our present day Middle East conflicts.

Wait for God. Keep talking to Him about whatever you're waiting for. His way always works out the best. Trust God, that He is both faithful and capable. Don't assume He needs you to out-think him.

Wait and see that the Lord is good.

the depth of the waves

In thinking about my current life situation, in light of Peter walking on the sea waves to come out to Jesus:
(Matthew 14:22-33)


While the depth of the waves is incredibly frightening, that depth doesn't actually matter -- since God is asking me to walk on top of them, not swim through them. Whether it is on the shoreline or in the middle of the fierce ocean, the depth of the water truly is irrelevant, just as the depth of Earth's crust is irrelevant when you're walking on a mountain trail. In His hands, in His guidance, I won't fall through, so the depth of the water below doesn't affect me.

Even better, He isn't asking me to step out of the boat and walk in my own strength, but simply in the faith that He is making this miraculous feat possible one step at a time, with every step I take.

I know I can trust him, so this faith isn't misplaced, misguided, or a pipe dream. He is solid, so the waves are solid. Their depth is inconsequential.

The truth is straight ahead, not below or in my periphery. All that is required of me is the same that was of Peter - just focus on Jesus. Look into His eyes and the circumstances of how this victory, this miracle, is possible just fade into the background.

Source

miraculously personal

Miraculously personal.

That's who God is, how He works.

Nothing about Him is half-hearted. generic. one-size-fits-all.

Not only is He competent and trustworthy, and working towards good in every single moment, but He is shockingly, miraculously, personal.

He loves me. The true me, the really real me from my core desires to my newest habits. Me. ME.

And because of this, He knows exactly what is best for me, and how to make specifically that thing come to pass.

I may not know where I'm going or what tomorrow and beyond holds for me, but I do know this. And this truly makes all the difference.

grace

I read something recently that has made me consider grace in a different way. I haven't yet decided if it's accurate, but it had given me a hope-filled pause.

The author first described the standard view of grace in terms that made it something like this: "You are human and will likely fail. But grace has allowed room for that and has forgiven your shortcomings. Now, continue on your journey and try to do better."

Not necessarily inaccurate.

He then went on to describe true grace very differently: "You are human. You will fail. Grace offers forgiveness for your mistakes, but it most importantly offers a helping hand for your journey."

Grace as a helping hand. Not just forgiveness, but something that helps you get back up again and that stays with you, continually helping you.

That seems a bit different to me. A bit more powerful.

credit unknown

A yoke that fits

Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light. (Matthew 11:28-30 NLT)

I keep coming back to this lately. Jesus offering rest to the weary through the yoke that fits, through the load that is easy to bear.

He speaks of finding rest by learning from him. Finding rest while carrying the burden that He has specifically made for us. The concept of rest coming through burdens, or stresses, seems counter-intuitive to me. But then I remembered that I might know what He's talking about.

I experienced it for the first time a few months ago, very briefly. I had an opportunity to try something new. Something difficult, something that in one sense was going to be very hard and require all of my ability and stamina. But it was for something that I loved, something I was intensely passionate about. When I was making the decision whether to go for it or not, I remember being energized by the prospect of what was coming, both the excitement for the positives, but also an excitement for overcoming the challenges. I viewed it as an adventure, and it brought life into my soul.

Contrast that experience with my current situation at work: an endless parade of demands and impossible deadlines that have to be met, for a career path that I can't stand. My sleep has been spotty for months. My face is dull, my diet unhealthy, my body literally aching as I type this blog, my personal life deteriorating with every passing month. The stress is quite literally more than I am able to cope with, and my life (including spiritually) has taken a back seat to this ever-present weight.

This yoke doesn't fit.

I don't think the "easy" and "light" that Jesus was talking about meant a full removal of difficulties in our lives. After all, that isn't how Earth works. But maybe He was trying to tell us that His path for us fits us better than any path we can carve out on our own. That the burdens that arise while we are wearing His plan for us - His yoke - will be more like adventures than stresses.

Maybe that's what He means in this verse. Maybe that's what He's trying to help us grab onto, believe in, and move towards.

~~~

A note: I understand that even while walking in His will, we will experience times that try us and stretch us; but what if even then, there is a way to rest - truly - in His peace? What if His yoke still fits in those times, too?

(If you aren't familiar with how yokes work in farming, it's pretty cool and clarifies this concept even more, including the idea that He shares the bulk of the weight in the load. Look it up if you get a chance.)

~~~

Arrow

I love the show Arrow. It has a surprising depth that I haven't found in many other shows (even more surprising because I'm quite out of the target demographic for most CW shows).

The relationship between three of the main characters (John Diggle, Felicity Smoak and Oliver Queen) shows the kind of loyal camaraderie that I aim to emulate in my closest relationships. Plot and details spared, the latest episode hit me right to my hidden core.

The scene when Oliver is trying to protect Diggle, but Diggle rejects his concerns, Felicity quietly listening in the foreground.
The scene in the hospital room with Diggle's recant and Oliver watching from the doorway.
The hallway scene.
The entire arc of the episode.

Right decision or wrong decision, I relate to Oliver almost palpably. The look on his face in the hospital room. Seeing the family he deeply wants. Being within touching distance of having it, knowing it is right there to grab. Deciding that his dreams can't happen, that the bigger picture is more important than his personal happiness. Walking away, causing pain to those he desperately wants to protect and love.

Then, in an euphoria born from being newly-paternal, Diggle obliviously validates Oliver's decision, forcing to the surface the agonizing truth that Oliver can never experience the type of joy he is watching his friend swim in, the type of joy Oliver can imagine having with the woman standing right in front of him. He is left to cope and grieve.

Right decision or wrong decision, I heavily relate to his grief-laced coping.

Can you regret your future?

(Titanic, Downton Abbey)

I can relate to this moment, the one when they each realized exactly who they would become if they didn't make a significant change in the course of their lives. A change with no guarantee. A change that goes against every stability they've ever known. A change that likely would not be accepted or even understood by people whom they loved.

But their soul, their very core, couldn't fathom living in this same place any longer.

From that instant, they were torn in two. They could no longer ignore it; they had to decide: be true to convention and security, or let their hearts have a say and be true to themselves. 

To find a way, not to be reckless, but to be honest and courageous.

In that moment  -- I can see my 80-year-old self looking back at me. Somehow I know that she will have a very significant opinion about what I do in this season of my life. I can't know what that opinion is until I live the life to get there. Did I play it safe and it worked out well? Did I play it safe only to look back and regret decades now long gone? Did I change everything and fall miserably in failure? Did I listen to my heart and somehow find a blessed key to life? 

Which old woman will I be? I can't know that until I am her. I have to accept that.

All I can choose now is which young woman I will be. 

Will I find a way?

thorns

I read the parable of the farmer and his seeds again tonight (Matthew 13:1-9).

Some of the seeds fell on the footpath, some fell in the rocks, others into the thorns, and finally some in the tilled earth. (If you're unfamiliar with the story, or need a quick refresh like I did, you can read the explanation here in Matthew 13:18-23.)

I always thought I was a seed in the tilled earth, but tonight I see that I am usually among the thorns. Good heart, good intentions, but nevertheless living among the worries of life as they silently choke out my tiny seeds of hope and faith, never allowing a harvest to develop and multiply. Never allowing me to actually live the faith and dreams I think God placed in my heart.

I've lived life among these thorns. Going moment to moment thinking I was just listening to simple prudence and responsibility, never seeing the thorns there, never considering that they may be why I am suffocating.

But how do I apply this to everyday life without opening myself up to really stupid decisions?

How do I become tilled earth?

faith that bleeds and breathes

This post spoke to me. I stumbled upon it somewhere in the rabbit hole of the internet, and it has soothed my soul, exactly the salve of what I needed to hear.

This was like fresh air. Not an answer for the questions I still don't know how to ask, not a solution on how to get out of where I am, just a reminder that where I find myself isn't all that strange a season to be in. Like an encouraging word from a best friend who sits in the trenches with you, who understands that some soul-deep questions can't be answered with shortcuts. That faith is a journey; that where I am right now, this process of understanding grace versus the "clenching of my teeth," is both vital and deliberate.

Without growing pains, we only end up shallow and misinformed. Without pushing through the initial illusions of an easy faith do we begin to arrive at the rich vibrancy of a faith that bleeds and breathes.

[...]

I don’t want to do this to you. I don’t want to appeal to your propensity for a quick easy fix. I would rather teach you how to think than what to think. Because it’s only after you’ve tasted the truth for yourself could you ever fully decide to clamp down upon the meat and digest. Everyone needs to climb their own mountain, or else you shortcut the depth of your own convictions. My role is only to get out of the way and point. Our role isn’t to digest the food for each other.

If it were this easy, it wouldn’t be God who is working but only the clenching of my teeth. Who really wants the quick, pat cliche? Who wants the solution that wasn’t born out of sweat and catharsis? That won’t last past Tuesday. We need blooming and not a bullet.

(J.S. Park)

2 sides of grace

There is a driving desperation inside of me, this need to earn God's favor. The concept of it being unmerited simply doesn't compute. This is going to sound very prideful, but it's almost insulting, the idea that I cannot merit His favor. I've worked so hard to do things the way He asked, to live the life I was supposed to live, to be "making myself ready" as it says in Revelation. My self worth - for better or worse - is attached to how well I've done in following God. It might be wrong, but it is true conceptually for me. I've given so much, sacrificed so much, hurt so deeply for what I believe in. I've done the right, best thing over and over again no matter how much it affected me - how can that amount to nothing? How can others receive by default what I've been asked to strive for?

On the flip side, these rules and commands - this law - it's too much. Too hard, more than I could ever hope to achieve. I desperately need grace. I can't do this in my own strength. I can't "make myself ready" for anything - I need God to lean on, to trust in, to abide in. I have no hope without him; grace is utterly necessary or I am hopeless. When I look at others who are hurting, I understand how important accepting grace can be. I want them to have it (despite my conflicting words above). I want them to know how much they are loved. I know I need it, oh I know I need it. But when it comes to me, I still don't understand how it can be received without earning it.

No wonder I feel stuck and lost.