Christmas Relief

God gave me a present today...Himself. Sound odd? Well, I've been struggling a lot the past few weeks with my thought life and despair. It was as if the scars over past hurts had suddenly become tender again and the world was tugging mercilessly at them.

But this morning I awoke relieved. Yes, I awoke alone in my apartment with no presents under the tree for me (kinda reminds me of a Japanese Christmas but without the pneumonia and pulled stomach muscles), but this morning I was relieved because Jesus came.

Funny how something that happened thousands of years ago can catch up to you now; but it's true. I feel relieved. It's all going to be ok. He came, the prophecy was fulfilled, the adventure began.

Everything else I wanted suddenly turns into a "it would be nice to have" when He gives me what I truly needed; relief in the thought that the promised Savior has come. He gave Himself.

Merry Christmas!

Some random musings

"Why do you refuse to wear the clothes I give you?" The words spin around my head as I survey the garments in front of me. Why do I prefer what I'm wearing to the clothes set out before me? I look over the rich fabric laying just inches from my reach. It looks so expensive. I reach out to touch the soft folds of the simple yet beautiful dress in front of me. It looks comfortable too. The kind of garment that won't hinder movement; that you can move through life with, yet it's the kind of outfit that makes you feel good. I notice myself standing up a bit taller just thinking about it. 

Then the words start pinging around my brain again. "Why do you refuse to wear the clothes I give you?" My eyes travel down and the shock threatens to overwhelm me as I compare what I've just seen to what I now wear. It's almost laughable, but the tears that fill my eyes aren't from laughter. Think of the worst rag in your home; the kind you've used so much that it's almost falling apart and you've long forgetten what the pattern used to look like as years of use and cleaning up your own spills have marred it beyond recognition. 

My feet shuffle back as I take in the comparison. I'm filled with shame that I even ventured to touch the gown laid out before me when my own outfit, the one I've clinged to for so long, is so filthy. "Why do I refuse to wear the clothes You gave me?" I whisper through a constricted throat. "It's not because I prefer mine...it's because I know I don't deserve Yours."

Through my tears, I notice that someone else has entered the room. My head is bent in shame so I don't see His face, but I feel His presence. He radiates kindness yet there's a sense of power, the same power that radiates from the Person before me; the One I've refused the gift from. I can hear His footsteps coming closer, but I never raise my head. How could I? To my horror, His steps stop in front of me, and I see His hands reach out to take mine. I want to pull away, I want to run and hide, but I can't once I've felt His strong hands on mine. I know I should, but I want to allow myself just a moment and I close my eyes.

It's the gentle rumble of a deep chuckle that makes my eyes open again. The gift Giver is laughing, but at what? Then I see it. My hands...I was so afraid that I might make this kind Mans hands dirty from Him touching me. But against all logic, I find it hard to explain even now, the opposite has happened and His hands have made mine clean! I don't dare look up into His face as I feel one hand release mine. He reaches back to accept the gift of the garments for me from the gift Giver, and He places them in my hands. My fingers clutch the soft fabric as I hear Him say, "Here, this is the garment made for you. You'll find it's much easier to carry out the things we have for you to do if you're wearing this. You'll be tempted to wear your rags again because they are familiar, but this, this is the garment made for you."

"This is who you are now."

Accepting...me

I've been reminded a lot recently of the beautiful irony that is accepting your limitations. The idea was first presented through a random Facebook link found during a mindless scroll. One click later, I'm watching an artist describe his passionate pursuit of pointillism art, only to develop serious nerve damage and consequent hand tremors. This, of course, caused a major halt in his art as he was incapable of drawing a dot without it looking like a million tadpoles swimming in a pond instead of the carefully crafted series of dots that make up a masterpiece. During a visit to a physician, he was faced with the question, "Why not embrace the tremor?" He rushed home and did just that. Instead of forcing his hand to do what it could not, he allowed it to shake and tremor all it wanted and began creating the most beautiful swirls and lines that made up the masterpiece he so craved to create.

The second time this idea presented itself was actually during the most surprising medium of a movie called "Mom's Day Out." No, when I popped in the movie I was not thinking of what moral messages I could glean from it, I simply wanted to forget my own troubles for a couple of hours. And forget I did as I became enveloped in the story of a struggling mom, wanting so desperately to "be enough." Through the consequent mishaps and struggles that you would expect to find, yet using twists and turns in the plot that kept you guessing if everyone was going to become felons and/or be hospitalized (You'll have to watch it), I was again presented with the idea that embracing your limitations is a lot less stressful than trying to be what you're not. The main character learned this through a deep conversation with a tattoo artist and a youtube video of a mother eagle (Intrigued? I'm telling you, watch the movie). The eagle wasn't trying to be or do anything other than what it knew to do; be an eagle. And all of the struggling mothers were enraptured to watch it without knowing why. Apparently, the tattoo artist did know because he saw how the eagle felt no need to be perfect, no need to be "enough', the eagle was simply supposed to be an eagle.

Now, as I sit here in an empty apartment that is beautiful but confining, alone (not my favorite), with a week of Lord only knows what ahead of me...I want to see if I can embrace my limitations. 

I am in an empty apartment. Like I said, not my favorite, but it's not forever and if nothing else, it's given me a passion to invite others in when I am normally protective of my space and try to keep others out if I'm "just not feeling up to it." I pray that someday this place is a haven for others in need of a cup of tea and a listening ear, but for right now, I don't have to avoid the empty. Maybe I should talk to myself out loud more, dance (no one should have to see that), and sing. That's what an empty apartment is for, right?

And as for being single, well I'm still figuring out how to embrace that one, but once I do it'll be awesome!

And this week...that'll be a longer journey cause it's one I can't take until each day presents itself. "Manna for today" right? I guess to sum it all up, I'm learning to rest in who I am with all the good, bad, and in between it entails and praying for God's help with it all so that I can be the "me" He created me to be.  

Ticking clocks and sifting sands

There's that incessant ticking noise again. It comes with every big change as the minutes and seconds I once saw as generous as sand on a beach begins to become more and more precious as it falls into the bottom of the hourglass.

My life is once again filled with timelines, packing lists, goodbyes, and cherished "last times." The last time I experienced this, I was moving to Japan ready for my next adventure. This one caught me a bit by surprise. If you're wondering what in the world I mean, let me give you some context.

For many months now, God has been doing something sneaky. Unbeknownst to me, God has been setting the stage for a pretty miraculous plan. Through hardships, hourly dependence on Him, and some Francis Chan sermons, I have begun to realize I am a calm water dweller. I can see your confused gaze in my mind's eye, so let me explain. In Psalm 23 it talks about God as a Shepherd in two different scenarios; by calming and safe waters, as well as in the perilousness of a shadowed valley. I am a stream dweller, perfectly content with my babbling brooks and quiet talks with my Shepherd. I will even go to great lengths to avoid those valley experiences through my powers of organization, planning, and resourcefulness. But what I realized recently is that because of my valley avoidance, I have missed getting to know my Shepherd in some critical ways.

Now, I'm not saying I should go cliff jumping to see what it feels like to have angels keep my feet from striking a single rock, but since I avoid the valleys, I'm avoiding my Shepherd too. I am not an advocate for needless danger, but I am also tired of avoiding needed danger. I'm tired of saying with my life choices, anxiety, and stream dwelling that my Shepherd is only able to comfort and guide. I've missed seeing Him protect and sustain.

Believe it or not, that's just the context. Now for the story. On a recent visit to see my Uncle and meet his new wife and family, I began hearing stories of specific prayer and action. I'm talking "Lord, would you guide me and provide ____ as a confirmation?" And then acting on it when it happens. I decided to try it. "Lord," I prayed "would you show me with clarity what next steps I should take with my life?" He knew I was stuck as far as finishing my Masters was concerned and expanding my "valley" experiences.

Now enters God's first thread: While waiting for my Uncle at his church, I happened to glance down at a random flyer, tucked underneath multiple Christian magazines and Daily Bread devotionals, and I read the word "Registrar" on a job description. Picking it up, I laughed to my Uncle and said, "Isn't that funny. That's kinda what I do now." 

"Are you going to email them?" my Uncle challenged. "No," I said tentatively. "I was joking." He didn't seem to get the joke and continued staring at me with those wisdom-filled eyes of his as if he knew he was setting the stage for something bigger. It was Sunday. What harm would it do to email, I said to myself. There's no way they'll get back to me before my flight tomorrow. So, I emailed and then promptly went to the beach to soak in the sun and forgot all possibilities of a crazy possibility. 

"Check your email," was the nagging thought as I drove back with my family a few hours later, sunburnt and completely clueless. The words, "We would love to have you come in for an interview at 9am tomorrow before your flight" were waiting for me in my inbox.

I wish I had the finger strength to describe all the little confirmations, unexplainable "coincidences," and tiny threads tugged by God's hand to weave together this story, but all that to say, within the span of 3 days I had found out about a potential job, interviewed, and been offered a position as Registrar for a prestigious preparatory school in New York.

 God's beautiful second thread in this insane tapestry is that I am actually stepping out in faith into the valley of uncertainty, new surroundings, and unkown. If that's not evidence of a Shepherd you can be confident in, I don't know what is. For the first time in my life, I am pursuing my Shepherd more than the right or wrong answer. I'm not doing it perfectly, I grant you, but I can't help but be excited to follow Him into a valley to see what the Shepherd who's promised to care for me, challenge me, and establish me all for the glory of His name is going to do.

I will miss my stream and all of the people I've met here. That's been the toughest part about leaving and trusting Him in this. I know there will be moments when the tears just won't stop because my heart is breaking, I know that doubts will stack upon each other till they threaten to topple, and I know the minutes will begin to tick more loudly the closer I get to that moving day. But as my Mom said to me with doubts sailing through my mind and sobs shaking my body as I contemplated leaving my calm waters, "If you didn't make this move Lydia, with all that you've seen God do to bring this about, would it be disobedience?" 

God's beautiful third thread: yes, it would be, and I'm ready to see what my Shepherd is going to do in the shadows of my valleys.

What is this?

What Is This...

What is this feeling? Something between trusting and wariness. Have you felt like that?  It's like a faith Jekyll and Hyde as you act out faith one way, and then the next instant Find yourself wanting to punch a wall out of frustration, only to come to once again and be appalled at your behavior. One side cannot understand the other, and you are both. You don't understand yourself, what you need, and you certainly don't understand God.

What is it when we follow a path we thought He had called us to walk till the end, only to realize He is calling us to stop, reverse, and go right back where we came from? What is this numb feeling as we retrace our steps, wondering the whole time what that was all about? And what is it when we cease to sing "Your grace is sufficient" and "Have Thine Own Way" as we fit our feet in the footprints we just made and trudge along in our confusion?

What is this weighty feeling which seems to slow our steps as we go back to where we had started? The reason we wandered down this path was because we were overwhelmed and in need of reprieve. We thought God had something for us at the end of the path and so we pursued it. Yes, as the almighty God and Sovereign Lord, He has the right to call the about face, but why? And will the reason be enough? It will be, but what do we do to combat this hopelessness? 

It could be that He wants us on another path. Same destination, but another way to get there. But what is this tired feeling we have when we think of starting down one more path? What is this hesitation that comes with the thought of trusting His direction and our interpretation of it? Do we think the last path we came back from was a mistake? No. The process was good and we learned a lot. But the destination wasn't achieved and we are left wondering if He ever meant for us to try and get there in the first place. 

So, what are we supposed to do when our limbs are too heavy to lift, and the next step seems a leap? What do You want us to do with the dream or destination which we just seemed to turn back from? 

What is this?

This Is...

This is surrender.

The path is unfamiliar and counter intuitive. It's not that the path itself is surrender, but what you must do to survive it and achieve your destination; that's surrender. And not just the little destinations of job, relationships, goals, but the end destination of Christ, the Kingdom, and glory. 

This is the souls response to the refrains of "Have Thine Own Way." The response comes with the melody of "I Surrender All." It follows the lament of the Psalmist and ends with the promises of the Early Church. 

This is a painful path, and while it feels that the current part we are traveling is all up-hill, it is a worth while path. That's hard to remember when your calves are burning and your mind starts to match the methodical pounding of your footsteps with tremors of doubts. 

"Be at peace and know..." You were told once. "Do not rely on your own understanding," was your admonition. This is what it feels to take on identity. Not the kind that you pick up when you're out in the world; the kind that slowly seeps in until one day you're astonished at who you've become. No, this kind takes pressure, like a piece of sand or a fragment of coal, slowly being pressed inward, causing friction, grinding, forcing one thing to change into another. You are fully aware of this kind of change.

This is His best, given by His hand, lovingly harsh. Our heart is battered by the pressure, our mind asks how much more we can take, but our soul knows this is the only way and asks heart, mind, and body to trust. This is the working out of faith. This is our path.

This is the opportunity for God to uphold us as in Psalm 119:116, this is when competences fail and God is proven true like in Psalm 73:26, this is what a Proverbs 31 woman is supposed to laugh at because of her knowledge and faith in God, this is the deciding moment between denial and declaration of Christ as in Matt 26:69-75 and John 21:15-19 this is what it feels like to give up our rights and to train for the race like in 1 Corinthians 9.

And this is what it feels like to have our hope built on nothing less, then Jesus' love and righteousness, to dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholy lean on Jesus name. This is the voice behind us saying "This is the way, walk in it." (Isaiah 30:21) This is us, waiting for Him to lift up our head, breathe life into our lungs, dry our tears, and strengthen us for one more hour. This is His blessing of daily manna-dependent living.

This, this is amen.

Dim Glasses

Have you ever had that empty, gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you're trying to express an idea to someone, and you just can't quite describe it? You see the randomly placed nods and you hear the "uh huh" and "oh totally," but in their eyes there is a distance caused by an inability to correctly describe a thought or situation; a failure to bring them into your story. 

Well, that's the feeling I've had for the past few months as random areas of my life began to swirl and eddy into what is now and overwhelming and turbulent sea. You can say the words "it's hard right now." And then as the days and weeks go by, those words turn into "I'm just so weary." At this point, there is still comprehension in the listeners eyes, but you start to feel a little distance, as if the words you're using are just not quite up to the weight of meaning you're trying to convey.

Then a change happens, and you're weariness, striving, and overwhelming moments deepen into one of those experiences that shape you. At this point, you could either turn into a despairing and bitter cynic, or a faithfully struggling child of God who will not curse the heavens no matter the calamity.

It's that moment when you begin to taste and see that even in the midst of a storm, God is still good. It ceases to be black and white letters on a page and turns into memories that draw on all your senses as you remember when that truth became real to you. This is when words begin to fail and the distance seems to grow in your description to others.

But analogies become our bridges of understanding when our experiences seem to distance us from one another. So, how would I describe this place where I am? I would describe it as a pair of glasses. Do you know that scene in Spider-man when he awakes after the affects of the spider bite takes its toll? Suddenly he realizes he is stronger, more attuned to his senses, and yes, suddenly without the need of his glasses which he was so dependent on before. 

That's how I would describe this sight in here midst of this refining time. I used to wear these glasses that would bring the world into sharper focus. I needed these glasses to get around, do my job, interact with others. And then something happens to you and you wake up to find you suddenly have another prescription; one that actually leaves the world looking a little fuzzy, but God comes into sharper focus. Suddenly, others plights seem more relatable, songs of intense faith seem more familiar and beautiful, and your need of God becomes even more real because your prescription doesn't help you to navigate this world like it used to.

Hard times are never purposeless. Without them, our senses wouldn't recognize God and our memory banks would be low when we try to look back and recall how constant God's goodness is. I still pray for relief from my storm. Some days, I am so weary from it that the next hour seems impossible to live through, the next meeting unbearable, and the next straw could be back-breaking. But every hour now ends with the prayer, "God, I can't do this next hour without You." And suddenly an hour has passed and your memory bank is a little more full. Your prescription is changing as this world grows strangely dim, but I wouldn't trade this new sight for all the calm waters in the world. 

Waves

 "but the boat by this time was a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them. 25 And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea."

Matthew 14:24-25 24

Beaten by the waves, when it looked like everything was against them and stability was just a distant shoreline; unattainable in their present condition. It was during this time, that Jesus come to them during an impossible circumstance, in an impossible way. 

Everything in me; the pent up anger, bottled up tears, weariness from striving, yearns to see Christ walking above all these buffeting waves and turbulent storms; coming towards me with kindness in His eyes and confidence in His movements. This storm does not phase Him the way it phases me. Could He be calling me to that same confidence and peace? Not an end to the storm, but the confidence to walk on its waves?