Category Archives: Healing

Posted on

Learning Curve

"You are my witnesses," declares the LORD, "and my servant whom I have chosen, so that you may know and believe me and understand that I am he. Before me no god was formed, nor will there be one after me." — Isa 43:10

Nearly three years ago Beth Moore’s Breaking Free study challenged me with this verse. Do I really believe God? Not believe IN Him but BELIEVE Him? I struggled through that lesson for a year. Then everything else in my life fell apart.

Two years later I find myself faced with the same lesson. With God asking me, point blank, "Do you believe Me?"

It seems that I am re-evaluating everything I once believed about who God is. I realized recently that up till now I have pretty much rested in the faith of others, allowing their faith and belief in God’s character, their definitions of who He is and their trust in those definitions to carry me through life. I think God is using this time in my life, with all the losses I’ve suffered, to help me face the reality of what I really believe and re-examine if that is indeed the truth. Events of the last two years completely demolished my faith-house of cards, completely stripping away all I once trusted. I saw this as a horrible thing; a disaster equal to a 10.0 earthquake in downtown LA.

Until last night.

A couple of weeks ago I realized the truth that the events two years ago didn’t destroy my faith and trust as much as it uncovered my lack of it. Its as if God took my life, turned it upside down and shook it with mighty force. Everything was dumped out and I was left to pick up the broken pieces. However, I realize now that what I thought was broken from the shaking was actually broken long ago.

I’m not a more broken person now. The truth is, I was ALWAYS this broken. I just had lots of things in my heart and life I could hide that truth behind. I hid it so well, I couldn’t even see the truth of myself.

Again, I saw this as a "bad" thing. An ugly truth. A failure. An unfixable situation.

Last night God got in my face about another aspect of His character. I’m still struggling to believe Him. Was it really Him I heard? Or was it the enemy trying to puff me up? What is the Truth?

In the midst of all that questioning, and a long conversation with Adria, I began to think that perhaps all the shaking of my life isn’t such a bad thing. Perhaps all this questioning and seeking isn’t a bad thing either. At the end of it all I will know what I believe. And be convinced of its truth.

I want to know God. I want to believe God. I want to come out of this time of pain and fire refined by my encounters with Him.

Posted on

Praise in the Midst of My Darkness

The LORD is king! Let the nations tremble! He sits on his throne between the cherubim. Let the whole earth quake!

The LORD sits in majesty in Jerusalem, supreme above all the nations.
Let them praise your great and awesome name. Your name is holy!

Mighty king, lover of justice, you have established fairness. You have acted with justice and righteousness throughout Israel.

I exalt You, LORD my God! I bow low before Your feet, for You are holy! Moses and Aaron were among Your priests; Samuel also called on Your name. They cried to You, LORD, for help, and You answered them.

You spoke to them from the pillar of cloud, and they followed the decrees and principles You gave them.

O LORD my God, you answered them. You were a forgiving God, but you punished them when they went wrong.

I exalt the LORD my God and worship at Your holy mountain in Jerusalem, for the LORD my God is holy!

              —-Psalm 99 The Message — with Lu edits

My devotional this morning was about praise and worship. Even before I read it, God led me to this passage.

I confess, I’ve been in a very dark place for nearly a week. Depression has seeped into the very fibers of my soul and I can’t shake it. It’s been there for a couple of years now, but sometimes I can hide from it. This week I couldn’t. It overtook me.

I’m not in the "mood" to praise God. I don’t have things to "shout to the Lord" about — at least not in a praise-y shout.

But I found myself reading through Psalm 98 and 99 and remembering a time in India when I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus…. I was the Research Coordinator for our team, yet I felt paralyzed in a fog and unable to lead the team in our research. I put on worship music and forced my mind to focus on God, and on Him alone. At the time I was rather disgusted with myself. All I could think was, "so much to do, and all I can manage to do is worship God. What kind of a Christian am I?!"

Looking back later I could see that that time of praise and worship was probably the most important thing I could do. Funny how I don’t think of that. The Bible says that every day the earth and all that’s in it praise God (Isa 55:12) and even the heavens pour forth speech day-to-day and reveal His knowledge every night (Psalm 19:1-4). Everything was made to praise God — not as an act of contrition, but as a natural part of their day-to-day existence. Even when the sun beats down, fields clap their hands, even when the rain and earthquakes crush them, the mountains still shout out the Glory of God. Why is it, then, that I feel compelled to do something OTHER than praise? Why is it that I feel I must have good things in my mind and life in order to glorify God?

So this is my praise to God. My focus and worship on the only One who can save me from this darkness. My heart is heavy, my soul downcast. But I will yet praise Him. Because that is what I was made to do.

Posted on

Grace & Daddy’s Voice

An old hymn is bouncing around my head, but I can’t remember the exact title….

"Grace, grace. God’s Grace.
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within.
Grace, Grace. God’s Grace.
Grace that is greater than all my sin."

I want so desperately to pick up the phone and call my dad. Ask him what the name of it is, and listen to him sing it to me over the phone. Though he probably wouldn’t have sung it, but grabbed mom, whom he deemed the real musician in the family, and have her sing it to me. I don’t care. I’d take either one. I just want to hear their voices again.

I saved a couple of messages on my answering machine that daddy left me while I was overseas. I just listened to them again. Just to hear his voice. I wish I had something like that of mom….

Romans 8 seems to be where I’m parked Scripturally right now. For one thing, I’m trying to learn, soul-learn and experience-learn the truth of verse 1:

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus"

I think I’m harder on myself than anyone dares to even think of being on me. I somehow learned as I  grew up to condemn myself for anything and everything that went wrong. And certainly not to take credit for anything that went right. UNlearning that habit is hard. I’m working on it, but it’s hard.

Lately, however, I’ve been drawn to a section later in the chapter. Especially the way it’s written in The Message:

So don’t you see that we don’t owe this old do-it–yourself life one red cent. There’s nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life. God’s Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go!

This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What’s next, Papa?" God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us–an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through the good times with him! That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.

I confess, I’m not there right now. Oh, I’ve been there before. And I’m pretty sure I’ll be there again. But right now, right now I’m not "adventurously expectant" and greeting God with a childlike "what’s next, papa?" My "what’s next?" is much more haggard and perhaps even a little cynical right now. A more "now what?" delivery.

I read this passage and I see hope. Yet I still feel rather hopeless. Or at the least, sad or melancholy or discouraged… or perhaps all three rolled into one big globby mess. Yet I SEE hope.

Perhaps that’s why I’m so drawn to it right now. I read it over and over, letting the words swirling around in my soul as if they were a glass of vintage wine to be savored, all the while pondering the deepening "joyful anticipation" Paul talks about.

Is this pain I feel, this longing for a place I’ve never seen but that I am convinced is where my parents now reside, is this joyful anticipation? Is this frustration with life, this aching to see Jesus face to face, to finally feel with my body what only my spirit and soul have felt all these years —  the caress of His hand, the sweet warmth of His breath on my face as He whispers my name, the special one HE’s given me, and His soft lips kiss my cheek before breaking into a smile, and hear with my ears His roaring laughter as we dance our first dance in heaven… is this aching "joyful anticipation"? Whatever it is, Paul is right about one thing. It’s deepening. Nearly to the point of madness.

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

Oh, thank GOD!! Someone finally acknowledges that we DO get tired in the waiting. Thank GOD He made a provision for this! Because THIS is where I am. As much as I’d like to say I’m charging forward like a Rhino — or should that be crashing forward — and living life on the Barbarian edge, the truth is much less glamourous or "spiritual". The truth is, I’m just hanging on for dear life right now. I’m not just tired in the waiting, I’m exhausted and beat up from the journey. I’m John the Baptist in prison awaiting a beheading and sending disciples to Jesus to ask, "Are you the one or should we look for another?" No, I’m not doubting Jesus. Just wondering why He’s going about healing everyone else and leaving me in this prison of depression. I’m Anna, widowed and bereft of a family of my own, serving out my days in the temple and awaiting the promised Messiah…. and waiting… and waiting…. and waiting….

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us–who was raised to life for us!-is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing–nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable–absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.

Hope. So much hope. I can SEE it. Why can’t I touch it? Why can’t I FEEL it?

And then I come back to Grace. I am not who I want to be. I am not all I think I "should" be. Yet every morning God’s laughter awakens me and He greets me as if I am perfect. Absolutely scratch-resistantly perfect. I am showered with Grace upon Grace upon Grace. And, finally, I FEEL a little hope…..

Posted on

More To Come

Thoughts are finally coalescing into themes. Themes God is weaving into my life and growing in my spirit. Isn’t it exciting to watch God at work, even when its in your own life. Even when it’s through pain.

Now that I’ve whetted your appetite…. I’m gonna make you wait. (yes, I’m evil sometimes).

I’m headed to Nina’s this afternoon after a half day of work. I’ll be back Sunday evening.

More to come….

Posted on

Silence Is

My mom, I think, was afraid of silence. If no one would talk, she would fill the silence with her own voice, even when she really didn’t have anything to talk about. She would try to engage others in conversation but got frustrated when we didn’t want to talk. I’ve spent most of my life in my own head, not always noticing the silences — or being grateful for the few I found. So I wasn’t much help to my mom in filling the silences of life.

I’m experiencing one of those right now. A Silence of Life. But I noticed a frightening trend recently: I, too, have grown fearful of silence. Even when I’m alone I’ll have the tv on, or music playing. It’s been a rare occasion to spend time in silence. I noticed this a few weeks ago as I rode with Adria somewhere. She was in her own head and I longed to be in mine. She seemed content in the silence, but the silence felt strange to me – – not strained, as if we were estranged or something. Just strange. Foreign. I don’t like that feeling. When did I get this way?

God seems intent on bringing me fully into this silent moment, drawing me into it, begging me to turn off the noise and leave it off, calling me to be still.

I don’t know what this is supposed to accomplish. It feels like I’m accomplishing nothing, doing nothing, going nowhere. I want to get up and DO something. Anything. Especially with noise. But like a disciplining parent, God keeps putting me back on the blanket every time I roll over and crawl away. He turns of my loud-music-toys that I’ve turned on and calls me back into silence.

Perhaps this is what spiritual Nap Time looks like.

Posted on

Mornings Are Much More Beautiful Than I Remember

At least that’s what it seems these days. Perhaps its just normal for spring in Nashville and this being my first year and all, it’s a novelty. Whatever it is, it’s stunning. Even at 6am.

As I drive to the Y each morning, passing the same beautiful homes with acres and acres of land on roads that feel like back-country lanes, I thank God for mornings. For Nashville. For my Life.

Weird. Not long ago I was begging God to let me die. Now here I am, thanking Him for not saying yes to my death wish.

I don’t know what I’m doing on this earth. I still don’t have any answers to the questions that have spun around in my head for the last two years. But right now it doesn’t seem to matter — my spirit is at rest.

Which gives my mind time to ponder new questions. And my heart strength to wrestle with different issues.

The last few days I’ve been listening to a lot of Erwin’s teaching cds. Especially one that Ron & Lynn sent me for Christmas. In it Erwin poses the question, "is it possible to love God and still have a bad day? To still have unfulfilled longings, unmet expectations, unrealized dreams?" As I listen, it reaffirms and reinforces the lessons I’ve learned over the last two years.

Yes, it IS possible to love God and have a bad day. And it IS possible to have a bad day and still be crazy in love with God. As I said yesterday, it’s in the depth, flavor and grittiness of real life that the Abundant LIfe is found. It’s those bad days I have that truly drive home to me how sweet and soulthirst-quenching life with Jesus is. Just having Him here. Beside me. At every moment of the day.

My attitude hasn’t been the greatest lately. Partly due to my being so much in my own head… It’s not that I’m in a foul mood, because I’m not. I’m genuinely enjoying life right now — which is a weird thing for me now. Its more that as I think through certain things, I get sort of agitated and rather snarky. I guess emotions are floating to the surface now from all manner of things and so I ride the waves as they come.

But I’m also finding that I’m checking myself a lot. I’m realizing when I’m not in the greatest of moods and doing my best to uncover the full extent of why (rather than striving to stuff the emotions down or "wish them into the corn field" as I used to do). Which puts me even more in my own head — as God and I process through all the emotions and discuss what to do with this stuff. I’m sure this must be unsettling for some of those around me. But I’m not sure what I can do about that.

Having the mornings to workout has given me time to cull through all the years of stuff collected in my heart and spirit and begin a sort of mental/spiritual Spring Cleaning — discarding used up worn out paradigms, getting rid of the mind-clutter and sweeping away the dust of old habits and thought patterns.

The drive back home for a shower and breakfast tends to take longer, as my country road route turns into a city thoroughfare for morning commuters. I don’t mind, it gives me time to enjoy the beauty of the morning, listen to the birds singing and let my mind wander….

Posted on

Deep In

I’ve been in my head a lot the last week, contemplating things around me, observing, learning. God’s been teaching me and showing me in practical ways how to live in a new way.

I’m loving it. It’s so good to have such a hard-core deep relationship with God. Processing through things with Him is such a powerful mind-bending experience.

You know, for seven years now my life has become increasingly dynamic and rich. It’s as if my soul and spirit are finally fully awake and alive. I feel every emotion, see every nuance and hue in the world around me, taste every flavor…. yeah, that also means that the painful things are felt and experienced deeply, but I much prefer life this way, lived and experienced to the fullest, to the monotone life I had before. Two years ago this month I came to the realization that this is really what Christ meant when He talked about giving us Abundant Life. Its not about being on top of the world, it’s about your soul being awakened to every nuance and flavor of life, both good and bad.

For me, even the bad is good. Because God meets me in the bad and walks with me through it. He doesn’t take it away, or make it less, He just fills up the space with Himself and we walk together. I’ve never been married, but I’ve been in a few serious, lengthy relationships and I gotta tell ya, nothing has ever come close to the power and intimacy of my relationship with God. No man will ever be able to satisfy and fulfill me the way God does. Does that sound sacrilegious or… sick in some way? I can’t help it if it does. Its just the plain absolute truth. No one can touch this.

"How can I picture God’s kingdom for you? What kind of story can I use? It’s like a pine nut that a man plants in his front yard. It grows into a huge pine tree with thick branches, and eagles build nests in it…. How can I picture God’s kingdom? It’s like yeast that a woman works into enough dough for three loaves of bread–and waits while the dough rises."  — Jesus, Luke 13:18-20

Posted on

Weekend Kisses

Some moments in life are kisses on the cheek from God. I had a weekend full of them. And it’s not Monday yet. How blessed I am.

I live on a roller-coaster of emotions. I try so very hard not to "live" in the place of sorrow. I try so hard to pull myself out of it every moment of the day. But the truth is, this is where I am. I dwell in a land of sorrows, of grief, of loss. I wish I could say I’m over all the things I’ve lost. It embarrasses me to know that I still struggle with this grief and depression… I feel so weak and…. immature in the faith. I wish with every fiber of my being I could say I’m past it all. But I cannot.

I keep discovering new things that were destroyed in the landslide of my life. It’s as if God has chosen this time of my life to completely remake me. And he started by demolishing all I was, all I had, all I thought was me.

I believe He is making a New Me. It is a matter of life or death for me — as long as I believe, there is still a spark of life in my spirit, but if I stop believing my spirit will die. So I believe with every ounce of strength I have. And then I cry out, "Lord, help my unbelief!"

My week was filled with such struggles. I tried to deny I was still in this dark place over the last few weeks. Events and situations, God and His provision all buoyed my spirit and aided my self-deception. But a few key events toppled my house of cards. By Wednesday I was exhausted, frustrated and unable to lie to myself any longer.

Last night I went to a Youth Evangelism Conference. I was so tired I really just wanted to stay home and sleep. But a new friend of mine was speaking and I wanted to go hear him and meet up with him for a bit afterward. It was a much longer drive than I anticipated. It seems all of Tennessee was going to this conference. There were over 10,000 people there — at least that’s my estimate, considering the place holds 10,000 and we were so maxed out they ran out of seating and had people sitting on the floor all over the place.

There was amazing worship. Mosaic kind of worship. You don’t get that very much here. Oh, you can get the music and the songs. Great music, great musicianship, great songs.  But not the Spirit. It’s the Spirit-led part that makes Mosaic worship so amazing and refreshing. This was Mosaic Spirit-led kind of worship, with Dave Hunt leading.

Little side note: Barney had given me Dave’s number and has encouraged me many times to get in touch with him. I was just too chicken to call…. you know, that whole "I’m a friend (well, okay, Barney’s my counselor, but also my friend… right?) of so-and-so and he recommended I call you…." Bleh. I’m so bad at that. And I hate doing it. I always feel I’m imposing on people.

I’m not sure all the reasons Barney wanted me to connect with Dave, but I know why God wanted me to. What an amazing worship leader! He reminded me of my friend David Files. David is a tremendously gifted worship leader. Dave Hunt is the same. He led us to the throne of God… over 10,000 of us a singing, dancing and lifting our hands to the Awesome Lover of our Souls.

I felt drenched in holy water. I felt so drenched! Soaked in His love, wrapped in His arms. So, so loved.

How do people live without this love? I don’t know how they do it. I would have killed myself by now. I could not live one single day without it. It calms my spirit when my world is crazy, brings peace to my soul even though the waters we travel are roaring rapids, and quiets the storms of my heart even though they rage out of control. My life didn’t change in that time of worship.  I’m still parent-less. I’m still job-less — permanently-speaking. I’m still at a loss as to why I’m here.

But my heart is full.

Tony’s speaking was amazing — more about that in a moment — and I got to witness God answer a prayer and begin a heart-transplant-life-transformation, even though it was from afar. I spoke to Tony for a moment afterward… and I connected up with Dave for a moment… I drove home not so much happy as content. Not content-for-all-time. Just content.

I got off at a different exit on the freeway than I was supposed to (still got home fine) and meandered through country roads for quite a while — and even that seemed to be a weird divine moment. A time for God to drench me again in His love as I drove and worshipped and talked with Him.

Today was a day of much-needed rest. I attempted to meet up with Tony again down in Murfreesboro, but I just didn’t head down there soon enough and missed him. I spent the afternoon driving through the country-side of Middle Tennessee, talking on the phone with Nina and shopping. All throughout the day I felt God’s kisses and embrace. Everything seemed to shout His praise and caress me with His love… The sun shining through my sun roof, the wind blowing my hair, the beauty of Tennessee, the heart-filling-spirit-refreshing conversation only a sister-best-friend can give….

Oh, how I am blessed.

Posted on

Identity – a.k.a. Where’s My Sign?

I’m still wrestling with God. This week its over my identity.

Who am I? What am I?

For me identity is like a sign I wear around my neck. It’s the thing that tells me who I am, tells others who I am and keeps us all straight as to what I was made for. Most of my life my identity has been tied to either my family or my doings. I was the Chaplain’s daughter, the minister’s kid, Nina’s sister (or Paula’s or Vic’s — take your sibling-pick), the "baby" of the family… yada-yada-yada. Later in life it became: I’m a sound engineer in training; I’m a producer’s assistant; I’m an executive assistant; and, of course, everyone knows that every assistant in Hollywood is an aspiring writer/producer themselves and I wore that one well for quite a while. Then I became a missionary. First to Hollywood (in an unofficial, self-named capacity, of course), then for real — first to India with ISC/Caleb Project, then with the IMB.

In the last two years I’ve lost my two major themes of "identity". I’m no longer a daughter of anyone on earth. And I’m no longer an official missionary. I’m not an official anything.

Who am I? Why am I here? What’s my purpose? What’s the point of all this? I’m so lost. So confused. So frustrated.

God spoke. "You are My Beloved. You are My Bride. You are A Crown-Princess. You are Mine."

That’s great. And it’s wonderful in the spiritual realm, but — hello — I live in the physical world. But I can’t wear that sign out in public anywhere. Do you know how crazy people would think I am if I said to the world, "Hi. I’m Lu and I’m a Crown-Princess and a child of the King."

Yeah, right. Watch the white coats come out and lock me up. Count the seconds, see how long it takes.

I need an identity I can wear in public, in this physical world you refuse to let me leave behind, thank you very much. Who am I in this world??

So God tried a different tactic today. He used my counselor to say the exact same thing He’d said last night. That was nice, but He gets no credit for originality.

Well, okay. To be fair, Barney didn’t say exactly what God said. He just created an opportunity to God to say it again. And then for me to repeat God’s words out loud. And then Barney took up God’s side of our fight.

Yeah, I got it. God really wants me to take this sign and wear it.

You know, its one thing to wear the Beloved sign with pride at home, or at Mosaic. But out on the street?? I could maybe see hiding it under my shirt, and walk around feeling like I’ve got this big magic secret that I, and no one else knows, knows and that makes me "special" somehow. Like a secret agent, one identity to the world, but my true identity hidden from view. But that doesn’t seem to be God’s aim here. He seems to want me to wear that big-ol’ sign front and center. Everywhere. Even out in public.

Doesn’t that sound so arrogant to do? I mean, does Prince William walk around with a sign saying "soon-to-be Crown Prince of England"? How big would the tomatoes and eggs we throw at him be if he did?

Yet this is the only identity God will give me. No matter how hard I cry, how much I scream, how hard I work, this is it:

"You are My Beloved. You are My Bride. You are A Crown-Princess. You are Mine."

Posted on

Quiet

Forgive me if this rambles or has lots of errors. I took some allergy medication shortly before I began writing and now I’m quite loopy….

Been a rather quiet weekend. Except for the fact that my phone nearly rang off the hook for a while. I am truly blessed with friends who love me and get concerned when I start talking about yelling at God and all. I’m so grateful for them!

I’ve been exhausted much of the time. Perhaps from wrestling with God. Perhaps just from depression. But I’m tired of whining to God. That’s part of what prompted my need to wrestle with Him. I’m tired of whining. Tired of crying out to HIm. I hurt, I want answers, I want Him to keep His promises — and yes, I want Him to keep His promises in MY time, not His. Well, while I know my passion moves God, I also know it won’t move Him to live by my timeline.

My relationship with Him is stronger, though, for the wrestling. He met me there, He fought with me there, and I now know beyond doubt He won’t leave me, He hasn’t forgotten me, and He will take care of me.

I still walk on a fragile ledge, though. The stresses of daily life can overwhelm me at a moment’s notice. Tonight I nearly crumbled under the weight of them, as I thought of all the things I don’t have settled, and how much I long for them to be so. 

Wendy wrote about Purpose the other day, talking about how single women sometimes get rather hung up on the issue, and wondering if David, Peter, Paul and others ever stewed over this issue or struggled with knowing what their purpose was. It prompted me to think of writing a children’s story about a pot wondering what it’s purpose was, since it seemed to rarely get used. Yet in the end it is the most special of pots, because it’s used only for special occasions, like making candy or perhaps to cook a turkey. My mom used to use the same huge pot to mix up and heat homemade ice cream as she used for baking a turkey. But she never used that pot for anything else.

What if we are like that pot? What if I am like that pot? And God only pulls me out for use once in a great while, but that use is incredibly important and special….

I realize we aren’t pots. Most people don’t have relationship with their pots the way God has relationships with us (unless you’re like my roommate, Adria, who’s nearly obsessed with cooking). I don’t believe we are just vessels for God to use for His purpose. If we were, then free will and all that is in vane.

No, we’re here for more than just to be used by God. I think we Christians try way too hard to simplify life down to its bare-bones. It’s either this, or its this. But life is much more complicated than that. It’s usually in the both/and that we live and  find the truth of life. It’s both hard and rewarding. Its both pleasure and pain. And it’s both purpose and just ’cause God wanted to have a relationship with us.

I love the show Joan of Arcadia. It portrays God the way I always experience Him. Not that God talks to me by taking control of other people, but the way He talks to me, what He says, and the way He acts, is so much like the way He talks to Joan — even down to the little wave as He walks away. 🙂

Friday night’s episode was on love. And romance. At the end, God sums up the lesson for Joan by saying that Romance is an illusion, given to us because we wouldn’t risk otherwise. Then he concludes by saying:

"Illusion dies so something bigger can take its place. Love is hard work. You have to decide if you want it in your story, or if you want to stay in the dream."

More than six years ago I decided I no longer wanted to stay in the dream. I wanted to experience real life the way God intended for me to live it. I had spent years insulating myself and isolating my heart. But in one moment, I threw open the doors and let God in to every part, even the parts that were tender and raw from previous hurts and deep wounds. I look at where I am now, everything I have experienced, and I know it is because of that one moment back in October 1998 when I told God, "I want to LIVE."

Had I known then what I know now… I still would have embarked on this journey. I would have paused for a long moment, but I still would have opened my heart up to God and allowed Him to breathe fresh life into me. It has all been worth it to travel this road with God. For what has been birthed in my heart and lived out in this life I now have is NOT adventure, as I thought it would be six years ago. What has been planted deep in my heart and continues to grow even today is Love. A deep and abiding love — from Christ, for Christ and by extension for all those around me.

Love IS hard. Its hard work and full of pain. Those we love hurt us, disappoint us, and eventually leave us, their bodies decaying in the ground as their spirits live on in eternity. There is no way around this pain. No way. We must either endure it, or not love.

I want love in my story. Even with all the pain I have experienced, and the losses I endure, I would not give back a second of my time loving my parents, loving those who have rejected me and loving those whom I no longer see with my eyes.