Tag: God

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Shaken up

snowglobe

I have a weird collection of snow globes from when I was a child. (Apparently my grandmother thought that the best thing for her clumsy granddaughter to collect was fragile glass balls of glittery water… You now know where I get my logical thinking from…) Anyway, as I sat staring at the row of snow globes on my bookcase in my apartment the other day, something in my brain clicked.

Lately, I have felt like one of the tiny figurines in my snow globes. When the globe is sitting in one place, everything is clear– which is symbolic of the state that I have been living in for roughly the last year. Last December, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was exactly where God wanted me. I thought I was going to be teaching at the Denver Street School for years to come. I didn’t foresee any big changes in my life that were going to shake up my snow globe existence and I was pretty content with that.

Then last January when I turned down a missions fellowship in Glasgow, Scotland, God shook up my snow globe by having my dear friend take me to a Perspectives class and wreck me for the broken and lost all over the world. Even though I didn’t see it then, this was the beginning of my journey toward graduate school and Texas.

Fast forward 11 months, 1 grad school acceptance letter, and several major freakouts:

This past Saturday, while having coffee and Bible study with two of my closest friends, it dawned on me: I didn’t need to be freaked out about moving to Texas next summer. After all, I’m not moving to “live” in Texas; I’m moving to live with God somewhere else. (Keep in mind that this revelation came after weeks of praying and crying while the glittery dust of getting accepted into graduate school settled in my little snow globe of a life.) It was in that revelation that I really felt at peace with where God was leading me. That afternoon the glittery dust finally settled and for the first time since this chaotic journey began, I was ready to go where ever God wanted me to go.

Not even 24 hours later, I was sitting in another coffee shop waiting to have coffee with a different friend before evening church when I logged onto my school’s website to register for my spring semester online classes when I saw it– the listing of online classes for next summer and fall. More precisely, the list showing exactly the classes that I need to take next summer and fall online.

I couldn’t believe it. I literally sat and stared at my computer screen for a solid 5 minutes trying to process what this meant. I can take my whole first year of grad school online… Does this mean I still have to move this coming August? Is this an answer to my incredibly selfish prayers to not have to leave Denver quite yet? Should I move anyway, even if I don’t have to?

In those 5 minutes, it felt like I was back in my little snow globe, except this time it wasn’t sitting somewhere while the glittery dust was gently floating to the bottom like the day prior. No, this time Someone had it in Their hand and They were shaking it up, mixing all of my carefully laid plans together.

Thankfully, my friend walked in shortly after and she was able to chat through things with me, reminding me that I need to pray through things and not freak out. So pray, we did and once again I was reminded that none of this is my decision anyway. Ultimately, I will go where God wants me to go. I simply need to pray, wait, and let the glitter settle again so I could see clearly where He is leading me.

After about an hour of chatting, we gathered our things and went to church together, where our missions pastor stood up and announced that there were still openings for this summer’s missions fellowship to, you guessed it, Glasgow, Scotland. Instantly, my snow globe was shaken up again and my thoughts started swirling along with all of the glitter in my brain.

Is this why I might not have to move to Dallas right now? Am I supposed to spend my summer working with the homeless and hopeless on the other side of the world in Glasgow? Is this another answered prayer or is this just me wanting adventure and finding it right at my finger tips?

The answer: I don’t know.

But I do know that as I write this, I have my missions application open in the other tab of my browser and I’m planning to begin it shortly. I don’t know if God is leading me to Dallas, or Glasgow, both, or even somewhere completely different this summer, but I do know that He is leading me… and He will take me exactly where I’m supposed to go.

4 Make me to know your ways, O Lord;
teach me your paths.
5 Lead me in your truth and teach me,
for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all the day long.”

(Psalm 25:4-5)

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The little things & the rough days

Some days it’s hard not to let the little things get you down.

The snide remark that one of your kids shoots at you due to misdirected teenage angst, the e-mail reminding you that one of your brightest students got expelled due to behavioral issues, the fact that when you turned on your car to commute through a snow storm you were reminded that you don’t have heat and that you would be sitting in 12 degrees for the next 45 minutes…

It’s been a rough week around these parts and I admit that I’m guilty of letting things like this get me down. And yes, sometimes I’m guilty of making my home at the crossroads of Cynicism and Snark, instead of abiding with my Father as I have been called to do.

But just when the enemy begins to make me feel guilty, like I am subpar, both as a teacher and human being, it is then that I am reminded that God is there in the little things.

He is there when I roll my eyes at my students and when I cry out to him in my freezing car, sobbing because I feel like a failure for losing one of the students with whom I am closest.

He was there both when I opened my empty refrigerator this morning and when I was blessed by a complete stranger with a box of groceries and a King Soopers gift card this afternoon.

God is with me.

And as I sit in my empty classroom early on a Friday evening with the muffled sound of my students laughing at the movie they are watching in the next room, I am reminded that He is here in the little things. This is His ministry and things are all playing out just as they are meant to, both here and in my non-work-related-life (Ha! As if I have one of those…).

I serve a beautiful Creator who is always with me and within me, and for that I am grateful.

Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?”

(1 Corinthians 3:16)

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Oh, Isaac…

All Glory Comes From Daring to Begin

This weekend I had the incredible blessing of attending my church’s women’s retreat in Estes Park. For the last two days, I have “lived” in a beautiful cabin in the mountains with some of the most Godly women I know.

Yesterday, after a full day of hiking, relaxing, cooking, worshiping, and talking, we ended our day in a group prayer session in the living room. And as I sat praying on the floor, surrounded by my spiritual sisters, it hit me.

I LOVE my life.

Had you asked me if I was really, truly happy this time last year, the answer likely would have been no. I was licking wounds left by a rough break up, I lacked a support system, and had built my faith on an incredibly shaky foundation. I didn’t have a community of believers around me (Heck, I didn’t really have a community around me at all) and I had just moved back to the city after a year of living in my personal hell on earth– AKA “the suburbs”.

But now, a year later, most everything is different.

God has restored my life in so many miraculous ways that I still can’t comprehend. I have a small, but beautiful studio in the exact neighborhood that I wanted to live. I am working in my “dream job” at the Denver Street School. I have a great group of friends that only God could have brought around me. I have been able to reconcile things with my ex, and while I wouldn’t consider us “friends”, I no longer shake and burst into tears when I run into him around town. I have a church body that has supported me as I walked back into the darkness of my past, celebrated with me when prayers have been answered, and gently corrected me when I began to make dumb decisions. My walk with God is stronger than it has ever been and He has begun to open new doors for me, revealing new parts of His plan for my life.

One of those doors came in the form of a letter this last week: A letter announcing my acceptance into the Linguistics and Cultural Studies Masters Program at the Graduate Institute of Applied Linguistics in Dallas, Texas.

While I’m excited to see what God has in store for my future, it hit me last night that I don’t want to leave Denver. I don’t want to leave my family (biological or otherwise), my community, my friends, my students… my church.

I want to stay here.

I know that I’m being selfish, but honestly, it seems a bit unfair. The fact that I lived through hell for three years, and now that God has fixed everything that I screwed up, now that I’m happy… that I’m being called away? That doesn’t seem right to me.

The thought of leaving literally brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it.

But as I sat in worship this morning, crying pathetically, I felt God impress the story of Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac into my heart.

Abraham and Sarah waited and prayed for over half a century for God to bless them with a child. And when He finally did, God said,

Take you son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” (Genesis 22:2)

In comparison to my three years and my (mostly) self-induced trials, Abraham and Sarah’s plight seems unimaginable.

Having to wait between seventy and eighty years for a child, only to have God say, I want you to step out in faith and sacrifice your child whom you love… I don’t think that I could it.

I don’t know that I would have the strength or faith to say, “Yes, God. I trust what You are doing and because you first blessed me with this child, I will lay him down as a sacrifice, if that is what you want.” But somehow Abraham did trust God, and God honored that by calling out to Abraham at the last minute to say,

‘Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son from me.’ And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in the thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place ‘The Lord will provide’.” (Genesis 22:12-14)

In my head I know that my life is not my own. I know that I was put on this earth to live for God and glorify Him, but that doesn’t make those moments when God asks you to sacrifice what you love any less difficult or scary.

To be completely honest, I haven’t hit the place yet where I am actually excited to “lay down my Isaac” for the Glory of God… Yet I know that I am being asked to lay down my life here in Denver so that I can help spread His Word all around the world to the hurting and hopeless. Don’t get me wrong– I’m excited to be a part of His great plan, I’m just not thrilled that I have to give up the life that I love to go; At least I’m not thrilled yet… God’s clearly not done with me (thank goodness) and it will be interesting to see how He works all of this out in the long run.

Has God been calling you to lay down an “Isaac” in your life lately?

Whoever loves his life, must lose it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also.” (John 12:25-26)

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Do I know you?

This past week I had the honor and blessing of being able to see Carl Medearis speak at a Perspectives class near my house.

About half way through his lesson, he said something that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since:

Several years back, Carl was given the opportunity to speak in a mosque in Lebanon. As he was walking up to the podium, the shah who was introducing him, tapped him on the shoulder and quickly asked him not to speak of Christianity, but simply of Jesus. (In our American-Christian minds, these two seem inseparable, but in most people’s realities, they’re not. Muslims believe that Jesus was a teacher and prophet, just as Christians believe that He is our Messiah and Savior.) So Carl chose to speak about Jesus as a teacher, sliding in tidbits about His life, love, and Ultimate Sacrifice on the cross as he went along.

At the end of his 45 minute time slot, Carl had run out of things to say. He had told all of the parables that he knew off the top of his head and was feeling stuck, so he tried to end his speech. But when he turned to walk away from the podium, he looked down to see the shah twirling his finger in midair, as if telling him to continue. “Continue? But my time is up…” He mouthed aghast, when a man stood out his seat and shouted, “YES! TWO MORE HOURS!” As he stood at the podium and stared out at the room packed with people, a murmuring of agreement went through the crowd.

This mosque full of men was so enthralled with the teachings of Jesus that they were begging him to continue. But Carl, internally panicking knowing that he was out of words, politely declined his half-request, half-command to continue, prayed, and walked off the stage, with his head hung low.

“I didn’t know anything else about Jesus. I was a “professional” Christian, a man who had given up everything in America to follow Jesus to the Middle East and I only had 45 minutes worth of knowledge about Him– My “Everything”, my Savior. I couldn’t believe it, and I knew that I never wanted to be in that position again.”

As I sat in my chair listening to him recount this story, I was stunned. My first thought? Oh my gosh, could I talk about Jesus for more than 45 minutes? Probably not. I’ve been a Christian for over 6 years, and I couldn’t even tell you more than maybe five of Jesus’ parables, at least not without butchering them. My second thought? AHHHHH! I’m about to give up the life that I love in Denver to go to school to (hopefully) become a Bible translator and I couldn’t even tell you more than five parables right now if you asked me to! Crap!

Hearing Carl talk about these things made me realize a third thing also… albeit later on in my week: I need to stop being a passive participant in my quiet times with God. How often do I read my Bible and think, “Wow, that was nice”, write about it in my journal, pray about it, and then not do anything further than that?

This Perspectives lesson reminded me that it’s not just the job of missionaries or seminary students to learn scripture. As Christians, we should be unable to function outside of the word and will of God. We should constantly be looking at scripture for guidance, and then committing that to our memory so that we can bless others with the words of God when they need it.

As Christians, we need to learn the teachings of our teacher and be able to talk about Jesus as if He really is our best friend, lover, and everything, like we say that He is.

I never want to be at the point again where I can’t think of more than five of Jesus’ parables, or where I doubt that I could talk for more than an hour about the things that I have seen God do in my life and the lives of those around me.

Never again do I want to doubt that I really “know” Jesus the way that I say I do.

(Also, Carl Medearis tells the above story much more eloquently in his book Muslims, Christians, and Jesus: Gaining Understanding and Building Relationships. Check it out. It’s pretty rad.)

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I think…

I think too much.

Sometimes I think that my overthinking comes from living alone and having nearly twelve beautiful hours of silence to process my chaotic life between the times when I get home from work and the time that I walk out the door the next day.

Sometimes I think back to my childhood and realize that I’ve always been a deep thinker. While my social butterflies of sisters would be off gallivanting about the neighborhood, I would usually be doing something nerdy like looking at rocks in the backyard and thinking out loud about what minerals or fossils they might contain. (Let me tell you, talking to yourself out loud about rocks is not a great way to win friends at the age of 7…or 8…or 9.)

Then sometimes, I think about the way that I process arguments and conversations after they happen. I can’t help but think: What could have gone better? What would have happened if that one little thing had gone differently?

And at the end of all of my thinking about thinking, I realize that I am once again, indeed thinking.

My thinking is a problem, really. (Although, I would personally rather be an over-thinker than an under-thinker if I had to choose. But moving on before I make any more snarky remarks…)

My problem doesn’t necessarily come from the fact that I sometimes think out loud, leading me to talk to myself (or my dog), but from the fact that when I start rehashing my life, I’m usually not talking to God. In fact, I usually am taking my eyes completely off of God. I’m essentially saying,

God, I don’t like how that ended. If You could please put Your Sovereign Knowledge and the good that You’re trying to work here on hold for a minute so that we can tend to my selfish needs, that would be great.”

I will literally dissect and analyze a troubling conversation to death before I offer it up to God, and usually by that time, I have internalized the conversation on a deep level. I understand that sometimes internalizing conversations is beneficial to us as humans and as Christians, especially if the conversations were encouraging or full of wisdom that we need to hear.

However, mulling conversations over and over can easily become detrimental to our walks with God if we aren’t careful with what we are over thinking.

My most recent example of this?

My mother and I don’t have a great relationship, and unfortunately we haven’t for a rather long time. For the majority of the last three years, we haven’t spoken to each other, but just last month she got back in contact with me. For the first few days, I felt like I had a normal relationship with my mom. We caught up on what my siblings were up to, her recent divorce, the happenings of her sunflower farm and ranch, and the like, but unfortunately that quickly fell away and the patterns of verbal abuse that I had grown up with began to return.

Some days when she would call and drill into me, I would turn the other cheek, pretend that her stabbing words didn’t bother me, and give her an excuse as to why I had to hang up. Other days I would blow up at her, serving her insults right back. But no matter how the conversations ended, I always mentally replayed and analyzed them, yet very rarely did I pray for guidance or wisdom.

Last weekend, after absorbing several weeks of verbal assaults I finally blocked her number and tried to go back about my life.

But by then, the conversations and lies were already written on my heart.

Had I simply run to God after every conversation and confrontation and let Him heal my brokenness, I know that I wouldn’t have been so deeply wounded by my mother’s words or the words that came out of my own mouth. But instead, I had replayed them and let them take root in my heart. Slowly her words became my words:

“You’re never going to go anywhere.”

“You’re worthless.”

“You were a mistake.”

“You’re just like your father.”

And because I had started believing these lies, I couldn’t hear the truths that God was speaking into my life at that same time:

“You’ve been accepted into this graduate program because I’m taking you somewhere.”

“You are worth my Son’s life.”

“I created you for a reason.”

“You were created in My image to become more like your Father.”

I don’t think that over thinking is a disease that you can magically be cured of, and I’m honestly still not sure that I would want to be cured of it if this was a possibility. However, I do know that I need to remember where my healing and love comes from, and that is not from my own heart or mind, but from my God.

I am not doing anything productive by metaphorically beating my head against a wall, but God, the author of the Universe (and my own weird brain) would be able to do something with my situation, if only I would offer it up to Him instead.

What is God trying to tell you right now? Can you hear Him? Or are you thinking over your plans and actions instead of offering them up to Him?

6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

~Philippians 4:6-7