joy joy joy

Today, I'm thinking about joy.

Well, okay, I haven't thought much about it yet, but I'm going to start thinking about it. This is what I've got so far - up to this point in my life, I don't think it's ever been really difficult to sustain joy and happiness in my life. Not that life has always been easy, but I'd be lying if I said that life hasn't always been good. Even in the difficult times, there have always been relationships, people, things, ideas, and purposes to make it relatively impossible for me to lose joy and happiness.

But I find myself struggling with these things quite a bit these last few days. It definitely doesn't mean an absence of those aforementioned things - there are still relationships, people, things, ideas, and purposes that are very dear (and very exciting) to me. But I just feel...deflated, I suppose. Not necessarily defeated, just a little deflated. It's felt tougher in this last season of my life to feel happy, purposeful, and steady. I've spent countless minutes, hours, even days trying to put my finger on why I feel this way. That, I've almost decided, is something of a waste.

Today, I remember what my Dad always says:

"Don't let anything steal your joy."

This is tough to remember. But I want that to be true of me. I want it to be true regardless of any person, any circumstance, any sadness of heart. I think that's a tall order, but it's one that I want to contemplate. Beyond happiness, beyond bliss, beyond circumstantial satisfaction --

joy.

Back to School...

Freshman orientation.

It's just one of those unescapable and unfortunate realities, made that much worse by not actually being a freshman. I don't remember exactly embracing the whole process as a true college freshman...much less as a college student five years down the road from that point. It's obviously unnecessary to say that I felt old, but I also encountered a reality that I didn't expect:

I felt out of place.

"Noooo!"

I thought.

But there it was -- reality. No perfect fit, no lightning bolts, no instant connections, no emotional high. Just reality. I found myself in a room filled with starry-eyed, eager, perhaps overly outgoing (we're talking theatre majors here, after all) freshmen. Even as freshman, however, most of them had a better theatrical resume than me -- and besides that, they were theater people, an obvious fit for the program they had chosen. And although the reality was no doubt overplayed by the sensitivities of my own mind, it was still obvious that I'm not exactly that way. Not exactly a fit. Not exactly the natural choice for where I was at.

All these observations and realizations were too much for me...so they were followed closely by a somewhat frustrated prayer.

"God, what am I supposed to be all about? Shouldn't there be something that I'm just a fit for? Something that I'm just naturally supposed to do and do well? What's my thing? What am I supposed to be all about?"

Fortunately, there was a quick answer.

"The only thing you're supposed to be all about is Me."

Oooh. That makes sense. I don't know what the deal is with all these "in between" feelings, all of these musings about where I'm to connect and fit and be, but if the point is for me to learn this better, than ok -- I'm on board. More than that, I'm all about it.

I just spent a long time reading a friend's musings. Her honesty was striking -- as was the similarity between her struggles and mine. As I read I just cried. So much of what she wrote, what she writes, echoes the thoughts and feelings that are in my heart.

Honesty, honesty.

I long for the honesty that she has. To be able to speak in truth and freedom the things that I usually reserve for my journal -- the things that I fear to allow into the light of day. To express without fear of annoying those dear to me. To express without fear that freedom of expression will equal loss. Just honesty without fear. These thoughts are not confined to a certain area, to a certain place or type of relationship; I want pervasive honesty. I find myself in a vicious cycle at times. I find in myself a deep longing to be loved and cherished for exactly who I am. But even when I have this love, even when I feel it is on the horizon, I dread its loss...and I feel that it surely cannot be, for one reason or another. So I duck and weave around the pillars of truth and honesty, playing hide-and-seek with true love in every place it is found. But in the midst of my game I cease to be truly known as who and what I am -- because, obviously, I am hiding in one way or another. And thus any love I experience seems insecurely founded, and I arrive, again, in fearing love lost. To make it clear, once again, this applies so broadly to my life -- these are not the musings solely of a daughter, of a girlfriend, of a sister, of a friend. They are just musings from me. But the Lord has told me what I am to be. No more mousing around.

Honesty, honesty.

Not because I have unvoiced opinions. Not because I have previously been too insecure to be who I truly am. Not even because I have been dishonest. But because I am who He has made me to be, and there is no need for pretending. There is no need to conform to something else. There is no need for fear, because there is a love that supersedes all fear.

Even now, I'm tempted not to click "publish post" -- what if this is too introspective, too personal to launch out of my journal, too elementary, too emotionally driven? But I will click. After all, this is a conversation I'm having with my Father. And I know at least one other person who is having the same kind of conversations -- she wrote of them as well, and I'm thankful. So...click.

glory & reality

Sometimes I still can't believe He came.

My time overseas has been marked by a simple but intensely profound revelation -- "in Christ alone". The hymn has been playing over and over again in my mind as I've encountered different people, different nations, and different cultures. And even now, after living the entirety of my life in the reality of the cross, I still can't believe it sometimes -- that Jesus Christ would come to us and make a way to bring us near, embracing the beauty and ugliness that comprises the human existence. It seems unbelievable to me that such an incredible thing has been in the heart of God for all eternity -- to send His Son to die, rise again, and make a way for all people from all places to come to Him. I feel speechless about it, and incredibly blessed to know life under the reality that has been accomplished by Jesus on the cross.

What can I do but determine to make Him known? What other response could I possibly have, than to make known the hope that exists in Him alone? What else could I possibly fight for, other than the freedom that He brings to those who are oppressed by their own sin and the sin of others? There is nothing else worth standing for, nothing else with even a remnant of hope, nothing else with even a dull ring of truth.

In Christ alone.

...

Tonight is hard.

I miss Dre, I miss my family, I miss L.A., I miss feeling at home.

Facebook and Skype just isn't the same...Spain is sick, but tonight my heart is a little sad. I've been thinking a lot lately about what you have to give up to do what my sister does -- to transport yourself into another culture, to learn another language, to give up both "home" and yourself in a sense. I've felt that pretty strongly in the short time I've been here - I can't think of a more literal concept for the idea of losing your life to save it. To follow the Lord, you give up your ability to communicate (at least for a time, and even in my week and a half it's been rough), a sense of comfort that you took for granted before, and even yourself. Not that you become someone else or are called to misery...but for a time you lose your ability to relate to people on the basis of language - a pretty big deal.

But the difficulty in my heart and mind is also bringing clarity in those places. The Lord is working it for good, I know - it just get a little tough to trust in the in-between time.

getting over it.

Like any typical college student, I spend a good amount of time praying desperately for the Lord's provision. I feel confident that He can provide for me - even when I've got a lot on the horizon (Spain, an apartment, my deposit for APU, EVERYTHING at APU, etc. ...), I know that my issues aren't necessarily big issues for Him. Okay, more like they DEFINITELY aren't big issues for Him.

But I've been noticing something lately. First, I've been noticing that He provides; second, I've been noticing that I don't really like the way He provides. I would be totally fine with the Lord providing through anonymous checks in the mail, or through the opportunity to actually make more money by working...but I've gotta admit, I'm not so good with the Lord providing for me through my family. I waited for two weeks (and a phone call from my mom) before depositing a check from my parents that I really needed. My sister is getting my brakes fixed today, wouldn't tell me how much it's gonna cost, and I feel terrible. Not like "thankful terrible" either -- just terrible, and down on myself because I couldn't pay for it on my own.

Sometimes I can't believe I actually get a little ticked at God for providing for me in a way I don't like -- I mean, seriously, it's pretty outrageous of me. But I think I've nailed what it comes down to. Pride. I hate to even type it, but I can't think of any other reason for it. It's not that I don't want any help from anyone, and it's not that I think my independence is to be valued and sought after above all else. It's just that I can't get out of my head how much the people I love have given to me, and I feel like now it should be time for me to be able to do it for them. But nope...they're still doing it for me. I don't know why I expect one of the biggest, most tangible sources of God's goodness in my life to suddenly shift to somewhere else because I'm over 21. But I do, and then comes the guilt. That's pretty clearly not from the Father, though.

So I guess I better get over it.

Bear with me -- this is a new thought.

The greys and blacks of life are something that I am familiar with. In my mind, this seems strange in hindsight. Ever since I was small, I've felt like someone who, to put it poetically, dreams in color. I feel that color, excitement, a starry-eyed approach to life, and imaginaton are my guideposts as a person. But the last little while of my life seems to have been marked by a descent of greyness on my life and dreams. My days stopped holding excitement in favor of bleakness. My dreams not only became grey, but actually ceased to come at all. This greyness was dishearteningly pervasive, and I succombed. I'm not sure whether this succombing was a loss, a failure, or something not meant to be -- but I'm sure it took me. I walked through my days in a greyness that I had not formerly known -- a greyness that I couldn't escape or simply gloss over until my feelings caught up with my state of being. I could say more, but I think the idea is clear.

But, even beginning with last summer, I witnessed the greyness of my skies beginning to clear. Color began to be restored -- in short, thickly satured strokes that surprised my dulled mind with their intensity...in long, wispy strokes that sliced through the grey with sustained effort...in great splotches that almost took my breath away. This color has returned with slow determination, beginning to brightly stain the hesitant grey canvases of my life and dreams. But even in its slow and faithful return, this color has not met a heart and mind without fear. "Why," I worry, "would the color return? Is there deep meaning I am supposed to ascertain?" And further: "Is this some kind of temporary relief -- an invisible ink to trick me into a return to fearless joy?" The great return of color has been met by a concurrent surge of fear.

But last night -- a reprieve.

I've prayed and prayed and prayed (without exaggeration) for the return of colorful skies in the midst of a greyness whose rhyme or reason I could not ascertain. Last night, my half and half heart heard a response. "It's time."

"Really?!" I said.

"It's time to return."

Needless to say, my heart leaped -- color surged -- stars returned to my eyes. I was so excited, in fact, that the above conversation took place approximately ten times. Then, a little bit more came. "Knowing the greys will help you to better know and appreciate the colors."

There's not much else for me to say, other than this: I believe I'm done with greys and blacks. It's time to dream in color again.

Life as a Bird

As I was beginning to fall asleep last night, in my mind's eye I was seeing birds.

And I began to think about what a "flapper" I am.  There are lots of currents in life, lots of things that push me around.  That's just life - there will always be emotions, situations, and happenings that gust through my skies and ruffle my feathers.  My response to these things is usually to flap wildly, attempting to right my skies by taming the gusts of wind.  Needless to say, this attempt is unequivocally unsuccessful.  I am never able to control the gusts, never able to appropriately navigate the things that push me around.  

So, as I realized how superfluous and utterly unsuccessful my wild flapping is, I began to think about my alternatives.  I prayed with someone yesterday about a big gust - a terrible situation in their life that simply won't go away and, quite frankly, cannot be "navigated".  All I could think to pray was peace; not as a nice, "cross your fingers" emotion, but as it is with God - strong, active, and able to overcome anything.  So last night, as I drifted off to sleep, I began to consider what that means in my own life (novel concept, right?  Actually living out myself what I pray for others?).  My tendency is to try to navigate the gusts of life on my own, whether by wild flapping or by desperately grasping at a peace that is less than the peace for which I prayed with my friend.  But I realize that neither of these things will actually enable me to navigate the gusts in my skies with success.  As much as I want to simply glide on these unavoidable gusts, all my best efforts only lead to a wild flapping.  The more I think about it, the more I realize with unshakeable certainty that no constancy of affection, no predisposed amount of accolades, no solidity of friendship will ever lead me to a state of mind and heart in which I can successfully glide upon the gusts in my skies.  

There is only one peace that can actually do that - and I've got to pursue it.  It's taking me a while, but I've got to learn it.  I've got to get it right, because I don't want to spend my whole life flapping.    

Musings of a Two-Year-Old

For much of the past week and a half, I've felt very much like a two-year-old.  As I pray, as I talk things through, as I ponder, the questions that rise from my mind inevitably begin with, "Why?"  For every circumstance, for every perceived difficulty, all I can think to ask is "Why?"

This has caused me to think quite a bit about the difficulties of the past year and a half.  As I think about the creeping return of the mindset and state of heart that accompanied those times, I feel a desperation rising in my heart.  At that point, the question of "Why?" ceases and is replaced with another insistent, decidedly toddler-like cry: "No, no, no!!"  Everything in my heart and mind cries out to protest a return to that painful brokenness and numbness that has, in many ways, marked the last little while of my life.  I don't want to go back to times where my friends say, "You're not yourself"; to times where my professors approach me with worry; to times where I simply can't put my finger on the desperate sadness that pervades my heart.  I want to continue with what my heart has been fearfully but hopefully stepping towards - restoration.

But as I think with admitted fear about the sadness and brokenness that seems to crouch at the door of my heart, I have begun to realize something very important.  In the difficulty of recent times, something has emerged.  As I have come to the "other side" of this difficulty, only to fear being grabbed once more by its clutches, something of deep, weighty truth has begun to rise in my heart.  When I seek the Lord, even in desperation of not wanting to return to where I have been, a realization rises:

True peace has become deeper and more real.  Real rest has become sweeter and easier to come by.  Unshakeable assurance has emerged as more than theoretical - it is now real and experienced.                 

If nothing else, this realization makes the last year and a half of my life "worth it".  Even if I return to that place dreaded by the whole of my heart, I'll make it.  And it will be redeemed - because it has been already.    

Campsites

I was thinking today about my comfort zone.  I wish I could think of another word to use that would make me sound more innovative as a thinker, but alas, I only slept for three hours last night.  In light of this, "comfort zone" will have to do.  

Today, as I sat at work, I realized that I felt at ease as I reached out to people I didn't know.  I even felt a little proud of myself for taking the "befriending" initiative.  But then my mind was suddenly arrested - "How easy," I thought, "to reach out in confidence and selflessness when I'm in a comfortable environment."  But how difficult for me, and how common of late, to shrink when uncomfortable.  I find myself in the throes of incredible self-frustration at this shrinking motion; who ever heard of mere (though perhaps intense) discomfort causing the actual reshaping of a person's personality?!  At these times, the way I am perceived is mildly shocking to me; "quiet", "reserved", and "shy" were never (EVER) words used to describe me until more recent months.  Trust me, my family would find these descriptions utterly laughable.  But what feels like "camping out" in a zone of discomfort has brought about this disappointing reshaping of who I am.  I'm not quite sure whether or not this extended stay in my discomfort zone has served as a means for growth; at this point, it is simply not clear to me.

However, I do believe I am beginning to know something else: restoration.  I think it's time for a new campsite.    

Roar.

"From the Gadites there came over to David in the stronghold in the wilderness, mighty men of valor, men trained for war, who could handle shield and spear, and whose faces were like the faces of lions..."

I'm really intrigued by this description.  I always have been, ever since I first read it in the account of David's "mighty men".  I've always thought that's how I wanted to be - someone who approached life (and especially the things of the Lord) with a face like a lion's.  I don't exactly know what that entails, but when I think about the face of a lion, I can imagine that these guys were pretty intense.  Admittedly, it's hard to put into words exactly what this phrase communicates - perhaps I'm misunderstanding it anyway.  But when I think about people approaching life with such ferocity and intensity that they're described as having "faces...like the faces of lions", I find something in me wanting to mirror that.  

To the point: the trouble is, I'm pretty sure my face looks more like Hello Kitty than a lion.  

Depressing?  No doubt.  

True?  Undeniably so.  

This is not to negate kindness - I'm thinking Aslan, here.  But I can't deny the embarrassingly strong parallels between a lion/Hello Kitty and who I want to be/who I actually am.  I know I am to function in boldness, intensity, and strength regarding the things of my life - because it's to be a Kingdom life.  But I also know that I oftentimes function in hesitation, worry, and fear.  This is a disservice not only to me (seriously, who really wants to look like Hello Kitty?), but to those around me.  Although I don't plan on hunting and eating any of my friends or family, I do know that to choose Hello Kitty over Lion in the realm of relationship is a lackluster choice at best.  

I don't want to choose this lackluster in my relationships, in my heart, in my prayers, in my life...I want to have a face like a lion.          

Fear 101

It may be cliche to talk about a "greatest fear".  But I think I realized one of mine yesterday.  I wish it could be tornadoes, or earthquakes, or Tower of Terror, but all of those things pale in comparison to how utterly frightened I am of...brace yourself for it...

Disappointing someone.

Ghastly, isn't it?  Okay, let's talk roots - I'm not quite sure why I'm so unfailingly afraid of disappointing someone.  I have a wonderful family, wonderful friends, loads of very supportive people in my life; why would I have such a fear of disappointing someone when most of my nearest and dearest have never seriously expressed that sentiment?  It's strange - unfounded, even - that I would struggle so much with this fear.  And yet I do, in seemingly every area of my life.

Sometimes I struggle to honestly communicate the full, intense actuality of my emotions - because I'm afraid of disappointing those I communicate with.

Sometimes I struggle to dream those "big dreams" that so many around me seem to be dreaming - because I'm afraid of disappointing myself and those who might get "dragged down" by the undertoe of my failure.

Maybe this is overly introspective, but I want to put a face on this fear so that I can get rid of it.  Maybe this fear isn't completely unfounded.  Perhaps, in actuality, it's based on a fear of disappointing the one I would most dread disappointing - my Father.  But I want to be free from this.  I had coffee with a friend just the other day, and her word for me was this - assurance.  I think what keeps me from living my life in a state of assurance is a tragic underestimation of both God's love and God's power.  I fear so much that I will make that fatal choice, stray onto that fatal path, take that fatal misstep.  And I end up living as if I'm waiting for an axe to fall.  What a tragedy!  I know both the love with which God thinks of me and the power with which He acts in my life - why do I stray into such fear?  Regardless of the "why", I am more than ready for it to stop.  I know that I am not a disappointment to Him - so I must stop behaving as if I was, or as if I am in danger of becoming so.  

"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God.  And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured our within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us."