Dec. 23rd (Thursday) 2010
8:03 a.m.
My best friend called me last Saturday--which is not unusual at all--to verbally process/rant some newly formed spiritual questions--which is especially not unusual for us. You know in Mark (or is it Luke?), in the garden, when Jesus specifically prays for himself, his disciples, and his the believers? She told me how it made her think, "Why were the disciples and believers separated? Is there a difference between simply believing and following? Does it only take believing to get you to heaven and to have a relationship with Christ, or do you have to follow, too?"
I agreed with her absolutely in her questioningly, but I couldn't really answer her. (She actually thought I might be able to, hah!) Ever since I could comprehend salvation, I've thought that all it required was one prayer proclaiming a belief in God and His ability to forgive and--basically--erase sins. Who cares if it never goes farther than a prayer induced by guilt on the foot of an altar? The Lord is gracious and loving, after all, He would surely accept it and not reject the poor idiot, condemning him to burn eternally in hell. But, but, but then I read in the gospels how if you didn't change the way you thought and lived and EVERYTHING after "becoming a Christian"--for a lack of better words--it didn't count? So like, do some people have to give up everything to follow Jesus and have a personal relationship with him; but then others can just believe, their life not be impacted by their belief at all, and they still get to heaven, too?! I know that's merciless of me, but... That's...not...fair...
5:37 p.m.
But do I REALLY just want to believe? I know that there's so much more out there than ere acknowledgment; don't I want to live it? Do I want to spend my entire life rereading the adventures that are possible once you leave everything to follow Jesus, as accounted by his TRUE disciples? I can pour over them from the safety of a life I'm in control of, but eventually they would grow stale instead of delicious and I would grow to resent these passionate brothers and sisters in Christ.
Don't I, Betsie, want to be passionate instead of just BELIEVE in passion? Don't I want to go, instead of sitting back and observing others with secret jealousy as they go? Do I want to clutch the steering wheel of my life, knuckles white from gripping too hard, TRYING--and fighting--to keep things as normal and road-most-traveled-on without actually swerving into it? Or would it be worth it to let go, allow someone who knows better than I to take control of EVERYTHING and radical up my life?
I'm already losing in the world's eyes because of Him. Maybe it's finally time I accept it, embrace it, and begin winning victories because of Him...
"Righteous people flourish like palm trees
and grow tall like the cedars in Lebanon.
They are planted in the Lord's house.
They blossom in our God's courtyards.
Even when they are old, they still bear fruit.
They are always healthy and fresh.
They make it known that the Lord is decent.
He is my rock.
He is never unfair.
-Psalm 92:12-15
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
We Were Never Promised Popularity.
Maybe I'm the only one, after all, I can only speak for myself. But was it ridiculously arrogant of me to think that when I truly began to seek God's will for my life, things would get easier? And that I would be happier? And that, oh, I don't know, I would lead like, a million and one people to Christ and have a million and one new bffs? I should have known this was a wrong assumption after reading books like Isaiah and Jeremiah, who were abandoned and rejected because of their passion for the Lord and longing to obey Him. Or even Jesus, the Savior of the world, the only person on earth to live a life of true love and purity, was abandoned...and rejected...and killed. Even Jesus. But I'm not Jesus, and he loves me, so he would never ask me to be alone, right?
Not right, but not exactly right, either.
I will never be alone, because he will always be in my heart. I will never be alone because he is withing everything around me, all around me. I will never be alone because he promised to never forsake or leave me. But he didn't promise me popularity, either, and he only spoke for himself when he said he would never leave me. But he didn't promise me I would be mobbed with friends, either. He promised me unlike many of my peers, filled with more than just beer keg parties and late-night clubbing, but he didn't promise that I would never spend a Friday night at home (or two, or three). Maybe he never promised me these things because he wants me to spend my Friday nights with him, I don't know.
I do know, though, that he never promised me popularity. Just himself.
Not right, but not exactly right, either.
I will never be alone, because he will always be in my heart. I will never be alone because he is withing everything around me, all around me. I will never be alone because he promised to never forsake or leave me. But he didn't promise me popularity, either, and he only spoke for himself when he said he would never leave me. But he didn't promise me I would be mobbed with friends, either. He promised me unlike many of my peers, filled with more than just beer keg parties and late-night clubbing, but he didn't promise that I would never spend a Friday night at home (or two, or three). Maybe he never promised me these things because he wants me to spend my Friday nights with him, I don't know.
I do know, though, that he never promised me popularity. Just himself.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
"Do it Anyway."
One of my team leaders on my Romania mission trip was this dude (the only other male on our team of eight), Bryan, who looked like Jesus...with an afro...and who shared facial similarities with Alex the lion off of Madagascar. Not even kidding. Bryan's a pretty cool guy.
So my team did this thing where we all wrote each other encouragement letters. (Which were really just letters filled to the brim with ego-boosting compliments, scripture verses, and sometimes taped on pebbles or drawings of...poop--I'm not going into that one. We weren't allowed to read our encouragement letters until the trip was over. Needless to say, someone was appointed to take care of my encouragement letters for me because the temptation was too much. (I spent my time concocting plans like how I would say I needed to get something out of the person's backpack who was "taking care of my letters", snatch the letters, hide them somewhere on my person, and then read them secretly in the airplane bathroom on the flight home. Don't judge, OK!)
When the trip was over and the letters were finally in my rightful possession, I rushed through each of them, simultaneously "awh"ing, laughing, and crying. (It was like The Hills on steroids.) Even though each individual letter was a treasure, Bryan's was one of the most impacting. Even though it's been nearly five months, every time I read it, I'm convicted more and more. He took Mother Teresa's famous "Do it Anyway" prayer and Bryan-fied it. It now happily lives on my mirror and I take it down constantly take it down, lay out my life for examination before me, and then mentally place the letter's message over it and see if things line up. They never do, but the words are wise instructions that help motivate me to strive for a better life and way of living.
The "Do it Anyway" prayer--Bryan-fied:
People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If your are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest people with the biggest ideas can be show down by the smallest people with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for the underdog anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help, but may attack you if you help them.
Help anyway.
Give the world the best you've got and you'll get kicked in the teeth. [Oh Bryan.]
Give the world the best you've got anyway.
So my team did this thing where we all wrote each other encouragement letters. (Which were really just letters filled to the brim with ego-boosting compliments, scripture verses, and sometimes taped on pebbles or drawings of...poop--I'm not going into that one. We weren't allowed to read our encouragement letters until the trip was over. Needless to say, someone was appointed to take care of my encouragement letters for me because the temptation was too much. (I spent my time concocting plans like how I would say I needed to get something out of the person's backpack who was "taking care of my letters", snatch the letters, hide them somewhere on my person, and then read them secretly in the airplane bathroom on the flight home. Don't judge, OK!)
When the trip was over and the letters were finally in my rightful possession, I rushed through each of them, simultaneously "awh"ing, laughing, and crying. (It was like The Hills on steroids.) Even though each individual letter was a treasure, Bryan's was one of the most impacting. Even though it's been nearly five months, every time I read it, I'm convicted more and more. He took Mother Teresa's famous "Do it Anyway" prayer and Bryan-fied it. It now happily lives on my mirror and I take it down constantly take it down, lay out my life for examination before me, and then mentally place the letter's message over it and see if things line up. They never do, but the words are wise instructions that help motivate me to strive for a better life and way of living.
The "Do it Anyway" prayer--Bryan-fied:
People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If your are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest people with the biggest ideas can be show down by the smallest people with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for the underdog anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help, but may attack you if you help them.
Help anyway.
Give the world the best you've got and you'll get kicked in the teeth. [Oh Bryan.]
Give the world the best you've got anyway.
Friday, November 26, 2010
It's a Love Story -- Just Say Yes
On September 26th, at like, 1 a.m., my view of how my relationship with Christ was supposed to be was radically altered. And I wrote a post about it later on that day--in the reasonable hours. The title of that post was "So I'm in Love", and it was a heart confession of my realization that I needed to be in love with Jesus (like He is with me), and that I actually was in the form of four paragraphs.
September 26th, seventy-nine days ago, that was the beginning. The beginning of a more intimate relationship with my Savior, the beginning of learning to trust Him, the beginning of learning how to have faith--I've never really had any before, and the beginning of falling in love...again. Last night I lay in my bed awake way into the night, conducting an interrogation with my heart. (I don't know about anyone else, but I for one never actually know what I really feel or why I feel that way until I sit down with my heart and ask all these very tough questions until I've scrounged the answer out of myself. And that's what I was doing last night.) I was laying there, earbuds in--of course--listening to an instrumental version of Love Story by some Jon Schmidt dude. I wasn't really paying attention, it was just nice background music while I sorted through my thoughts and stared out the window at the bending pine trees in the night wind. I had a lot on my mind.
God, I know you love me. I know you love me in a way that no one else can because you are love and everyone else is just...human. But come on, where's the catch? I don't understand. There must be some days when you don't love me, or some ulterior motive for you loving me. So what is it?
Does this conversation sound sacrilegious to you? Because it does to me! Really, my impertinence towards the frickin' creator of every molecule of my body, of every thousands of leaves, of every mountain range, human organ, and entire universe is appalling! But...I can justify myself--sorta. I'm distrustful, I've been disappointed, I've learned to be wary of people because they usually end up using you. I didn't use to be so jaded, I used to absolutely love and blindly trust everyone, but a few really bad relationships will change that. And it did. God was asking me to fall in love for the second time this year, and after the first time went so awfully wrong, I was hesitant and reluctant at the least. So now my distrustful, bitter, and questioning view of life and any form of relationships with people has influenced my relationship with my Maker, and I'm beginning to ask Him, "Are you really for real?"
I lay there, thinking over these things that have been on my mind for about a month now? two? And I felt like there was an answer, or something I was missing.
Come on, God, say something. I thought in the silence.
Except it wasn't silent. Like I said, I was listening to this instrumental version of Love Story by that Jon Schmidt dude, and I began to focus on it. I remember how this used to be my favorite song, especially the line, "It's a love story/baby just say 'yes'" That was my favorite part because it's like, the peak of the song. There's a decision to make, is the guy going to say yes? He better say yes, he'd be an idiot if he didn't! Hello! Why wouldn't he say yes? Taylor frickin' Swift is telling him she's in love with him, he better not pass up this love story. (Yes, I get very passionate about this kinda thing.) And then, it was as if, I guess you could say the Holy Spirit, but it was as if something inside of me asked--
Why don't you say 'yes'?
Say 'yes'? To what?
There was that voice, that voice of perfect calm and reasoning--so obviously it was God and not me. Say yes because I love you. I love you, but you're afraid. Why don't you love me, and trust me? Say yes because I'm extending my hand to you, I died so that you would take it. If you take it, you will walk hand in hand with me throughout the rest of your life, through everything. Say yes because even though it's frightening and out of your understanding and control, it's worth it. Say yes to believing that I love you and never leave you or hurt you. Because I never, never will. Say yes to giving up your life and your self every single day so that you will love me. Say yes because I have SO much more for you than this. Just say yes.
Of course, when you put it like that God, there's not much else I can say, is there? On September 26th something huge happened, and it forever changed the way I felt about God and how our relationship should be. I realized that He didn't want a partnership with me, He really didn't even need me to begin with. But he wants me. He doesn't need me and I really can't do anything for Him, and yet He still wants me? Even though He had to lose a lot so that I could be with Him? This is crazy love! It is love, but you can't "fall in love" in just one day, reasonably speaking. You can be in love with the way someone looks in one day, but you can't even physically see God without dying because He's SO beautiful, so you can't exactly be in love with God's great looks. (Plus, that's just weird.) He wants something different, deeper. He wants us to genuinely love Him. That love began in me a long time ago, in a very premature way. I knew God loved me, and I liked that He loved me. So I kinda liked Him back and would come to Him whenever I had a problem, and I would tell Him the latest gossip among my circle of friends, but the way I felt about God never changed me. When I fell in love for the first time with an actual boy, I completely changed. I thought about him 24/7, I talked about him 24/7 (that is, whenever I actually talked because usually I was thinking about him too much to even do so), and I smiled whenever I did either. So that was 24/7. People could look at me, and say, "Oh my, you're in love with him."
No one has ever walked up to me, and by just the ridiculous, hopeless expression on my face said, "Oh my, you're in love with Him." No one. But they should have, because I was " in love" with God, right? Right, that's why I totally dumped Him when I was "in love." That's why my dashing Romeo became my god. That's why I convinced myself that it was fine that I never spent time with the Lord--unless it was to talk about Romeo--anymore. I AM SUCH AN IDIOT. THE END.
I don't love God like that yet. But I want to. More than anything now. I want people to look at my face and know, I'm ready to be in love again, but with God only, please. This is a new chapter, this is the point A of this journey. But it's not so much a journey to a place, but rather a journey through a complete life transformation of redemption.
Last night I lay there still awake even after the song had ended (after I had listened to it, like, a bajillion times). I hadn't said anything yet. I wanted to, but what I wanted to say would be a promise that I would need to be willing to follow through with. Not just last night, but tomorrow (now today), and the next day, and the day after that, and so on until my life had no more days. And I don't like commitment, I never have. But if I can't commit to God and this relationship, what will or can I commit to? I know God's love for me will never end (1 Corinthians 13:7-8, anyone?). I know it won't.
So I said yes.
September 26th, seventy-nine days ago, that was the beginning. The beginning of a more intimate relationship with my Savior, the beginning of learning to trust Him, the beginning of learning how to have faith--I've never really had any before, and the beginning of falling in love...again. Last night I lay in my bed awake way into the night, conducting an interrogation with my heart. (I don't know about anyone else, but I for one never actually know what I really feel or why I feel that way until I sit down with my heart and ask all these very tough questions until I've scrounged the answer out of myself. And that's what I was doing last night.) I was laying there, earbuds in--of course--listening to an instrumental version of Love Story by some Jon Schmidt dude. I wasn't really paying attention, it was just nice background music while I sorted through my thoughts and stared out the window at the bending pine trees in the night wind. I had a lot on my mind.
God, I know you love me. I know you love me in a way that no one else can because you are love and everyone else is just...human. But come on, where's the catch? I don't understand. There must be some days when you don't love me, or some ulterior motive for you loving me. So what is it?
Does this conversation sound sacrilegious to you? Because it does to me! Really, my impertinence towards the frickin' creator of every molecule of my body, of every thousands of leaves, of every mountain range, human organ, and entire universe is appalling! But...I can justify myself--sorta. I'm distrustful, I've been disappointed, I've learned to be wary of people because they usually end up using you. I didn't use to be so jaded, I used to absolutely love and blindly trust everyone, but a few really bad relationships will change that. And it did. God was asking me to fall in love for the second time this year, and after the first time went so awfully wrong, I was hesitant and reluctant at the least. So now my distrustful, bitter, and questioning view of life and any form of relationships with people has influenced my relationship with my Maker, and I'm beginning to ask Him, "Are you really for real?"
I lay there, thinking over these things that have been on my mind for about a month now? two? And I felt like there was an answer, or something I was missing.
Come on, God, say something. I thought in the silence.
Except it wasn't silent. Like I said, I was listening to this instrumental version of Love Story by that Jon Schmidt dude, and I began to focus on it. I remember how this used to be my favorite song, especially the line, "It's a love story/baby just say 'yes'" That was my favorite part because it's like, the peak of the song. There's a decision to make, is the guy going to say yes? He better say yes, he'd be an idiot if he didn't! Hello! Why wouldn't he say yes? Taylor frickin' Swift is telling him she's in love with him, he better not pass up this love story. (Yes, I get very passionate about this kinda thing.) And then, it was as if, I guess you could say the Holy Spirit, but it was as if something inside of me asked--
Why don't you say 'yes'?
Say 'yes'? To what?
There was that voice, that voice of perfect calm and reasoning--so obviously it was God and not me. Say yes because I love you. I love you, but you're afraid. Why don't you love me, and trust me? Say yes because I'm extending my hand to you, I died so that you would take it. If you take it, you will walk hand in hand with me throughout the rest of your life, through everything. Say yes because even though it's frightening and out of your understanding and control, it's worth it. Say yes to believing that I love you and never leave you or hurt you. Because I never, never will. Say yes to giving up your life and your self every single day so that you will love me. Say yes because I have SO much more for you than this. Just say yes.
Of course, when you put it like that God, there's not much else I can say, is there? On September 26th something huge happened, and it forever changed the way I felt about God and how our relationship should be. I realized that He didn't want a partnership with me, He really didn't even need me to begin with. But he wants me. He doesn't need me and I really can't do anything for Him, and yet He still wants me? Even though He had to lose a lot so that I could be with Him? This is crazy love! It is love, but you can't "fall in love" in just one day, reasonably speaking. You can be in love with the way someone looks in one day, but you can't even physically see God without dying because He's SO beautiful, so you can't exactly be in love with God's great looks. (Plus, that's just weird.) He wants something different, deeper. He wants us to genuinely love Him. That love began in me a long time ago, in a very premature way. I knew God loved me, and I liked that He loved me. So I kinda liked Him back and would come to Him whenever I had a problem, and I would tell Him the latest gossip among my circle of friends, but the way I felt about God never changed me. When I fell in love for the first time with an actual boy, I completely changed. I thought about him 24/7, I talked about him 24/7 (that is, whenever I actually talked because usually I was thinking about him too much to even do so), and I smiled whenever I did either. So that was 24/7. People could look at me, and say, "Oh my, you're in love with him."
No one has ever walked up to me, and by just the ridiculous, hopeless expression on my face said, "Oh my, you're in love with Him." No one. But they should have, because I was " in love" with God, right? Right, that's why I totally dumped Him when I was "in love." That's why my dashing Romeo became my god. That's why I convinced myself that it was fine that I never spent time with the Lord--unless it was to talk about Romeo--anymore. I AM SUCH AN IDIOT. THE END.
I don't love God like that yet. But I want to. More than anything now. I want people to look at my face and know, I'm ready to be in love again, but with God only, please. This is a new chapter, this is the point A of this journey. But it's not so much a journey to a place, but rather a journey through a complete life transformation of redemption.
Last night I lay there still awake even after the song had ended (after I had listened to it, like, a bajillion times). I hadn't said anything yet. I wanted to, but what I wanted to say would be a promise that I would need to be willing to follow through with. Not just last night, but tomorrow (now today), and the next day, and the day after that, and so on until my life had no more days. And I don't like commitment, I never have. But if I can't commit to God and this relationship, what will or can I commit to? I know God's love for me will never end (1 Corinthians 13:7-8, anyone?). I know it won't.
So I said yes.
Monday, November 8, 2010
God of Even THIS City?
While I was at the Lancaster's yesterday afternoon with my family (a homeless outreach--or really, just church how it SHOULD be--in downtown Jackson), Mrs. Amy shared the story behind the well known song "God of This City".
A band and a few other members of their church went on a mission trip to Pattaya, Thailand recently. In Pattaya, there are over 30,000 female prostitutes over the age of 18. (That is not counting the ones under 18, or even the male prostitutes there) While they were walking around the town, they walked into a local bar there called...."The Climax Club", which was looking for bands to play. They agreed to give it a try and asked how long the owner wanted them to play. The owner said, "As long as your friends continues to buy cokes." So they ended up buying cokes for 2-3 hours.
So for over 2 hours this band sang Jesus over these prostitutes who had no idea what they were singing! All of the sudden this song "came down from heaven," as one of the band members recalls. Then spontaneously they started singing:
You're the God of this city
You're the King of these people
You're the Lord of this nation
You are
You're the light in this darkness
You're the hope to the hopeless
You're the peace to the restless
You are
For there is no one like our God
There is no one like our God
Greater things have yet to come
Greater things are still to be done in this city
Greater things have yet to come
Greater things are still to be done here
I had heard this story before, but I somehow forgot that it took place in Thailand. Thailand, y'know Betsie, that country you're going to next summer. The words and the meaning behind them hit me so hard. These words were sung over Thailand, in a place so dark and hopeless it was a tangible substance. As I've been researching Thailand and asking missionaries I know who have gone there on mission trips over the past few years, I learn that Thailand is more dark, more hurt, and more hopeless than I could have ever imagined. What am I getting myself into?! When I read the stories and heartbreaking statistics of its poverty, I am filled with this sense of fear and overwhelming helplessness. How can this ever possibly change? It will never change! I asked God to let me see the hurt around me like He does, and He has been opening my eyes, believe me! But I have forgotten to ask God to let me see the hope, beauty, and possible redemption around me, too.
Greater things can come to Thailand. There is nothing, and no one--not one prostitute, pimp, brothel mother, abusive crack addict father--that the Lord can not redeem and transform. If we allow it, greater things can come to all of us. Even Thailand.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Now I Understand.
In the very last scene of Voyage of The Dawn Treader, Aslan tells the children that they are now too old to come back to Narnia. Lucy, through her tears says, "It isn’t Narnia, you know. It’s you. We shan’t meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?" To this Aslan replies that they will meet him there. And when Edmund asks whether he is there, too, Aslan answers, "I am. But there, I have another name. You must learn to know Me by that name. This was the very reason WHY you were brought to Narnia. That by knowing me here for a little while, you will know me better there."
I have a huge soft spot in my heart reserved specifically for the Chronicles of Narnia. Cheesy? I know. But you have to understand, I grew up listening to my father reading all the books aloud. My siblings and I would spend hours running around outside like ragamuffins, each playing a role of one of the Pevensies--or a wolf. I spent my days daydreaming about stumbling across a magical door that would hurl me into another world, one filled with wonder and beauty. In that world I would be a queen. (I was only eight...ten...eleven, OK?) And then in--what was it?--2005, Andrew Adamson's "The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe" was released. My Narnia obsession skyrocketed. (<--Understatement.) I mean, how could it not? Aslan's sacrifice made me cry, and Skandar Keynes made me swoon--yes, I am that shallow. It really couldn't get better. Fast forward five years and I'm not sitting in a cinema chair, anticipating an epic movie while my sister squealed next to me. Instead, I'm sitting on a bed, in a spare room, not in Mississippi, but rather thousands of miles away in Romania. And instead of the buzz that you here before a movie begins, Imogen Heap is singing in my ears while I savor an hour alone (which is priceless on a mission trip). I had just sat through an overwhelming worship session with my team, and I needed to process all the emotions my heart was being bombarded with. I knew Jesus was asking something of me, and I had an idea of what it was, but the raw realization scared me. In fact, ROMANIA was scaring me. Unlike back home, no one knew me here, it was like first impressions every single day. God had taken me away from everything and everyone I knew, and when you are called to walk away from your day-to-day life, you discover that you no longer are in control.
So there I am, criss-cross applesauce on a spare bed in a tiny spare room, my Bible opened before me, my journal beside it, and my palms face up on my knees, trying to think. Like I said, I was listening to Imogen Heap, it was a song that she wrote which is on the Narnia soundtrack.
I have a huge soft spot in my heart reserved specifically for the Chronicles of Narnia. Cheesy? I know. But you have to understand, I grew up listening to my father reading all the books aloud. My siblings and I would spend hours running around outside like ragamuffins, each playing a role of one of the Pevensies--or a wolf. I spent my days daydreaming about stumbling across a magical door that would hurl me into another world, one filled with wonder and beauty. In that world I would be a queen. (I was only eight...ten...eleven, OK?) And then in--what was it?--2005, Andrew Adamson's "The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe" was released. My Narnia obsession skyrocketed. (<--Understatement.) I mean, how could it not? Aslan's sacrifice made me cry, and Skandar Keynes made me swoon--yes, I am that shallow. It really couldn't get better. Fast forward five years and I'm not sitting in a cinema chair, anticipating an epic movie while my sister squealed next to me. Instead, I'm sitting on a bed, in a spare room, not in Mississippi, but rather thousands of miles away in Romania. And instead of the buzz that you here before a movie begins, Imogen Heap is singing in my ears while I savor an hour alone (which is priceless on a mission trip). I had just sat through an overwhelming worship session with my team, and I needed to process all the emotions my heart was being bombarded with. I knew Jesus was asking something of me, and I had an idea of what it was, but the raw realization scared me. In fact, ROMANIA was scaring me. Unlike back home, no one knew me here, it was like first impressions every single day. God had taken me away from everything and everyone I knew, and when you are called to walk away from your day-to-day life, you discover that you no longer are in control.
So there I am, criss-cross applesauce on a spare bed in a tiny spare room, my Bible opened before me, my journal beside it, and my palms face up on my knees, trying to think. Like I said, I was listening to Imogen Heap, it was a song that she wrote which is on the Narnia soundtrack.
Can't close my eyes
They're wide awake
Every hair on my body
has got a thing for this place
Oh empty my heart
I've got to make room for this feeling
so much bigger than me
They're wide awake
Every hair on my body
has got a thing for this place
Oh empty my heart
I've got to make room for this feeling
so much bigger than me
As I listened to these words that I had heard over a million times and had become more than familiar, I was surprised by the depth of them. How was it that they perfectly expressed the way I was feeling about Romania and God? Yeah, obviously Imogen Heap has a time machine in her possession, checked out my journal in June 2010, and then went back to whenever she wrote that song. That sneaky girl! Just kidding...but kinda really. Romania terrified me, but I was also taken by it. It was beautiful...wondrous, even...and everyday exposed me to more and more incredible things. It was all so much! I couldn't hold on to the things that were going on as they were thousands of miles away, I needed to live in the moment, where I was. It was just for a month, right?
Except. I became lost in Romania. I became lost in God's magic and crazy love. And when I left, I felt as much sorrow as if I was leaving an awesome kingdom in which I was a princess. Maybe it's because Romania was awesome, and there I learned that I was God's princess. I didn't understand why my Father could be so cold, how could He allow me to go somewhere like Romania, allow me to feel the things I did and see the things I did, how could he allow me to meet the seven beautiful people I did...and then just drop me back in my life?! I used to think it was fine, I got by like everyone else, whatever. But after I encountered my True Lover and all that He had to offer--which was so much better!--I wasn't fine anymore.
WHY, WHY, WHY? What was the point? There was no way I could hear God in Mississippi like I did in Romania. Why? Why let me see what I did, become broken like I became, and then just be expected to come back here? Why? Three months after being home, just about half an hour ago, I read that above paragraph, of what Aslan said to Lucy and Edmund. And I know God is saying the same to me. I saw what I saw, met who I met, encountered God the way I did, I felt what I felt there; so that now I can see, meet, encounter God, and feel the way that my Father wants me to HERE.
Now I understand.
Except. I became lost in Romania. I became lost in God's magic and crazy love. And when I left, I felt as much sorrow as if I was leaving an awesome kingdom in which I was a princess. Maybe it's because Romania was awesome, and there I learned that I was God's princess. I didn't understand why my Father could be so cold, how could He allow me to go somewhere like Romania, allow me to feel the things I did and see the things I did, how could he allow me to meet the seven beautiful people I did...and then just drop me back in my life?! I used to think it was fine, I got by like everyone else, whatever. But after I encountered my True Lover and all that He had to offer--which was so much better!--I wasn't fine anymore.
WHY, WHY, WHY? What was the point? There was no way I could hear God in Mississippi like I did in Romania. Why? Why let me see what I did, become broken like I became, and then just be expected to come back here? Why? Three months after being home, just about half an hour ago, I read that above paragraph, of what Aslan said to Lucy and Edmund. And I know God is saying the same to me. I saw what I saw, met who I met, encountered God the way I did, I felt what I felt there; so that now I can see, meet, encounter God, and feel the way that my Father wants me to HERE.
Now I understand.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Learning to Obey...AND DANCE AND SING!
Through you my heart screams
I am free
Yes, I am free
I AM FREE TO RUN
(I AM FREE TO RUN)
I AM FREE TO DANCE
(I AM FREE TO DANCE)
I AM FREE TO LIVE FOR YOU
(I AM FREE TO LIVE FOR YOU)
I AM FREE
(I AM FREE)
YES I AM FREE
(I AM FREE)
While I was in Romania, my team leaders encouraged both I and my teammates destroy our comfort zone boundaries and obey when the Lord tugged on our hearts, whispering in our ear crazy, radical and possibly awkward things. This sometimes looked like speaking in churches with only a ten minute notice, preaching the gospel, striking up conversations with people that could hardly understand me, etc. etc. It was intimidating, but not impossible, and I have many incredible memories because I listened (and then some that aren't so incredible). But then one of my leaders in particular, Jessie, began encouraging me in one specific way: To find freedom in worshiping my Maker.
Oh God! I literally cringe as I type that. When I think "freedom in worship" I picture crazed people--so crazed, they're practically foaming at the mouths!--dancing around and shouting praise lyrics. Is this wrong and judgmental? Yes. Do I still think it? Absolutely. And what was my reaction when Jessie told me that I should express my worship through...dance? "Um, ha! You're funny! Like that's going to happen. No thank you." And that was the end of it, done deal, I wasn't comfortable with it and I justified myself by claiming that it would be "distracting" for anyone around me. (Cop ouuuuuuut!) But I was determined and like I said, that was the last of it.
Or so I greatly wished.
And so--of course--it wasn't.
I found verses like Psalm 149:3-4 legitimately haunting me whenever I was in a worshipful atmosphere.
"Let them praise his name with dancing.
Let them make music to him with tambourines and lyres,
because the Lord takes pleasure in his people.
He crowns those who are oppressed with victory."
I tried to stifle the pressure I felt that if I wasn't out of my comfort zone and willing to worship my Savior in the way He led me, then I wasn't really worshiping at all. Unfortunately, I couldn't stifle it, but I sure as heck didn't act upon it.
Fast forward to October 24th (last night) and I'm at Coffee House. See, Coffee House is something that my friend's church does. It's just a night in which a bunch of people come, they put on a worship service of some form, and whoever wants to get up and perform a skit or Christian song (usually, it's original Christian rap), then they can. The whole focus is to provide a worshipful atmosphere in which there is complete freedom--and coffee, duh. You will always find me not on the stage, but in the mosh pit, front row, center, enjoying all the excitement from where I am. Now, during the night there's a time called Free-Style, and this is a time specifically set aside for by-the-fly performances; the band--if there's one there that night--gets up and messes around while brave, confident people with talent take turns jumping up and sharing what God is speaking to them, either by saying it, rapping it, dancing it, or singing it out.
Needless to say, I have never been one of those people.
And then last night happened, and it was free-style, and everyone that got up seemed to have the same theme of their message: The freedom that you can find in Christ. And it was as if, as I stood there, looking on, comfortably clapping my hands and dancing around, someone placed a song in my head that wouldn't stop playing, and it was that song by The Newsboys "I am Free" that talks about being free enough to run and dance and live, and live in God. It was definitely one of those, "Really God, really?" moments, and my comfort zone was getting a little shaken.
And then this questions, "Why don't you get up there and sing it?"
Why don't You shut up?! ME, get up there and SING, in front of about sixty people? That sentence seriously shouldn't exist. Me sing a song I don't even know the words to, only the chorus? Me sing on a stage? Me sing period? My comfort zone was screaming. I can't sing, I don't sing, especially not with a legit band playing behind me and people staring at me from the front. I found myself beginning to hope that someone else--someone with talent--would get the same idea and get up there for me. Someone got up...and rapped about being as free as a bird in Jesus. Someone else got up...and sang about letting go. REALLY? Come on!
"Why don't YOU get up there and sing it?"
But...but...but what if my voice messes up? Or I look like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler instant death? (I have the tendency to look like this when I'm in a state of terrorizedness.) Or I might stumble over the words? Or forget the words completely! Or what if everyone just stands there awkwardly and stops dancing and clapping and it's a fail? Or...or...why am I running out of excuses?!
"Just do it."
I acknowledged and saw the mass of impenetrable fear that was before me, took one step to the side, and walked right past it and onto the stage before I could think and puke. I was handed the mic. Everyone was gaping at me. ("Why are they all staring at me like owl-y things?") So I opened my mouth. First I was speaking, or yelling, either one. "Can anyone say, 'I am free to run!'"
Everyone said it, no, shouted it back.
"And I am free to DANCE!"
They echoed me.
"And I am free to live for you!"
"I am free to live for you!"
"I am free!"
"YES, I AM FREE!"
I was singing! And I wasn't dead! If anything, I was more alive than I had been in months. The band was playing along with such energy, and the crowd just took over and all in all it was nearly deafening. I was so liberated, and I really, really liked it. What Jessie had planted in me over three months ago grew and grew until I was so uncomfortable with it that I had to overcome it. And because of it, I got to taste the ultimate freedom that we can only experience when we shake loose the chains of comfortable and fear from off around our hearts and throw our unwilling hands in the air or even whoop with shouts.
So I am learning to obey my Father and....DANCE AND TWIRL AND SING AND SCREAM!
And I really, really like it.
I am free
Yes, I am free
I AM FREE TO RUN
(I AM FREE TO RUN)
I AM FREE TO DANCE
(I AM FREE TO DANCE)
I AM FREE TO LIVE FOR YOU
(I AM FREE TO LIVE FOR YOU)
I AM FREE
(I AM FREE)
YES I AM FREE
(I AM FREE)
While I was in Romania, my team leaders encouraged both I and my teammates destroy our comfort zone boundaries and obey when the Lord tugged on our hearts, whispering in our ear crazy, radical and possibly awkward things. This sometimes looked like speaking in churches with only a ten minute notice, preaching the gospel, striking up conversations with people that could hardly understand me, etc. etc. It was intimidating, but not impossible, and I have many incredible memories because I listened (and then some that aren't so incredible). But then one of my leaders in particular, Jessie, began encouraging me in one specific way: To find freedom in worshiping my Maker.
Oh God! I literally cringe as I type that. When I think "freedom in worship" I picture crazed people--so crazed, they're practically foaming at the mouths!--dancing around and shouting praise lyrics. Is this wrong and judgmental? Yes. Do I still think it? Absolutely. And what was my reaction when Jessie told me that I should express my worship through...dance? "Um, ha! You're funny! Like that's going to happen. No thank you." And that was the end of it, done deal, I wasn't comfortable with it and I justified myself by claiming that it would be "distracting" for anyone around me. (Cop ouuuuuuut!) But I was determined and like I said, that was the last of it.
Or so I greatly wished.
And so--of course--it wasn't.
I found verses like Psalm 149:3-4 legitimately haunting me whenever I was in a worshipful atmosphere.
"Let them praise his name with dancing.
Let them make music to him with tambourines and lyres,
because the Lord takes pleasure in his people.
He crowns those who are oppressed with victory."
I tried to stifle the pressure I felt that if I wasn't out of my comfort zone and willing to worship my Savior in the way He led me, then I wasn't really worshiping at all. Unfortunately, I couldn't stifle it, but I sure as heck didn't act upon it.
Fast forward to October 24th (last night) and I'm at Coffee House. See, Coffee House is something that my friend's church does. It's just a night in which a bunch of people come, they put on a worship service of some form, and whoever wants to get up and perform a skit or Christian song (usually, it's original Christian rap), then they can. The whole focus is to provide a worshipful atmosphere in which there is complete freedom--and coffee, duh. You will always find me not on the stage, but in the mosh pit, front row, center, enjoying all the excitement from where I am. Now, during the night there's a time called Free-Style, and this is a time specifically set aside for by-the-fly performances; the band--if there's one there that night--gets up and messes around while brave, confident people with talent take turns jumping up and sharing what God is speaking to them, either by saying it, rapping it, dancing it, or singing it out.
Needless to say, I have never been one of those people.
And then last night happened, and it was free-style, and everyone that got up seemed to have the same theme of their message: The freedom that you can find in Christ. And it was as if, as I stood there, looking on, comfortably clapping my hands and dancing around, someone placed a song in my head that wouldn't stop playing, and it was that song by The Newsboys "I am Free" that talks about being free enough to run and dance and live, and live in God. It was definitely one of those, "Really God, really?" moments, and my comfort zone was getting a little shaken.
And then this questions, "Why don't you get up there and sing it?"
Why don't You shut up?! ME, get up there and SING, in front of about sixty people? That sentence seriously shouldn't exist. Me sing a song I don't even know the words to, only the chorus? Me sing on a stage? Me sing period? My comfort zone was screaming. I can't sing, I don't sing, especially not with a legit band playing behind me and people staring at me from the front. I found myself beginning to hope that someone else--someone with talent--would get the same idea and get up there for me. Someone got up...and rapped about being as free as a bird in Jesus. Someone else got up...and sang about letting go. REALLY? Come on!
"Why don't YOU get up there and sing it?"
But...but...but what if my voice messes up? Or I look like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler instant death? (I have the tendency to look like this when I'm in a state of terrorizedness.) Or I might stumble over the words? Or forget the words completely! Or what if everyone just stands there awkwardly and stops dancing and clapping and it's a fail? Or...or...why am I running out of excuses?!
"Just do it."
I acknowledged and saw the mass of impenetrable fear that was before me, took one step to the side, and walked right past it and onto the stage before I could think and puke. I was handed the mic. Everyone was gaping at me. ("Why are they all staring at me like owl-y things?") So I opened my mouth. First I was speaking, or yelling, either one. "Can anyone say, 'I am free to run!'"
Everyone said it, no, shouted it back.
"And I am free to DANCE!"
They echoed me.
"And I am free to live for you!"
"I am free to live for you!"
"I am free!"
"YES, I AM FREE!"
I was singing! And I wasn't dead! If anything, I was more alive than I had been in months. The band was playing along with such energy, and the crowd just took over and all in all it was nearly deafening. I was so liberated, and I really, really liked it. What Jessie had planted in me over three months ago grew and grew until I was so uncomfortable with it that I had to overcome it. And because of it, I got to taste the ultimate freedom that we can only experience when we shake loose the chains of comfortable and fear from off around our hearts and throw our unwilling hands in the air or even whoop with shouts.
So I am learning to obey my Father and....DANCE AND TWIRL AND SING AND SCREAM!
And I really, really like it.
Through you the kingdom comes
Through you the battle's won
Through you I'm not afraid
Through you the price is paid
Through you there's victory
Because of you my heart sings
I am free
Yes, I am free
WHO THE SON SETS FREE--IS FREE INDEED
(WHO THE SON SETS FREE)
WHO THE SON SETS FREE--IS FREE INDEED
(WHO THE SON SETS FREE)
Through you I'm not afraid
Through you the price is paid
Through you there's victory
Because of you my heart sings
I am free
Yes, I am free
WHO THE SON SETS FREE--IS FREE INDEED
(WHO THE SON SETS FREE)
WHO THE SON SETS FREE--IS FREE INDEED
(WHO THE SON SETS FREE)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)