From Ritual to Revival

A few weeks ago, I took communion at a church where I hadn't before. While my home church, Mercy, already does it a lot different than many churches, this was even further from anything I'd experienced. For me it can seem a mere ritual and a backslide into some of the old ways, those of my religion.

I grew up in a much different way of practicing Christianity than what it looks like to me now. I honestly don't remember a day of my life without a notion of God existing; doing whatever He does, wherever He is, up somewhere. I went to grade school where I had to memorize bible verses that were theologically way over my head. I jokingly say you can only read about Noah's ark so many times, but it's somewhat true - I haven't much touched the Old Testament in a long time, partially because of my childhood. We attended weekly chapel services where we sang several hymns. None of what I was raised in was wrong or tainted me, but I lived so many years without understanding in my heart why I even believed all this stuff. Some of it is probably even tainted in my memory because of my lack of understanding.

Then while hearing the gospel presented while on a mission trip in Appalachia as a freshman, it clicked. There's no more of an in-depth story, save for the sweet memory of spending probably an hour alone in awe. Flash forward through all the years to follow that moment, I honestly think I would have been one of the ones who didn't make it, if it weren't for that mysterious moment of truly knowing. As my faith climbed, so it felt did the weight of the things I faced.

I remember so clearly, after a difficult few weeks there was a night where my best friend at the time confirmed she was walking out of my life, cold-turkey without so much as a warning or even a good blowout. She didn't even plan to tell me. The gravity of that moment could until recently still take my breath away. That night, I cried so hard my nose bled. Even in the aftermath of that, I don't remember all the gritty details, but that I spent a lot of time pleading with God to ease my pain and He did. I don't know where else I would have found hope.

My recent radically-refreshed taking communion wasn't necessarily different in the way you might expect. The pastor simply invited us all to take pause and ponder what Jesus' death has meant to us personally. In the span of those two or three spared minutes, a wave of gratitude came over me, as when someone gives you exactly what you need right when you do - because that's what I recalled all in an instant. Years of my life, learning to trust the God I learned so much about all that time, through the realities of the pain of life and even find the hope to press on with joy!

I often wish I had a better "story" to tell, because it's just so subtly knit into my life that it's hard to pinpoint a moment, or tell of something beyond God giving me peace or hope, but that is what takes my breath away now. Not the pain of anything that previously ruled my life, but now the gravity of how God's hand has been in it all, and the freedom I continue to know deeper in Christ.

Good Things Come

...To those who wait.

I went into this last season of job search, still a little stunned but with my quivering voice declaring, "God will make something of this; He's got me." Key word here: quivering. I was by no means perfect in my understanding of what was happening, or in my belief that God provides.

I heard an insightful teaching from a pastor recently on Abraham. He talked about how often Abe failed at trusting God. God would give him a promise, then there would be what he called a test; an opportunity where he could believe God was good for His word or try to do his own thing. Usually there'd be a do over, and Abraham would get it - the second time, that is.

There are plenty of instances of that in my life for which I could relate to Abraham, and this is one. I learned before about unemployment and God lining something up in the clutch, even having a more extended period of several months of searching. This time however, not wanting the something to be just something, I took my time and did my best to remember to breathe. I had to cut the lines of the proverbial safety net that was a concrete job offer to do something I could do (but why would I learn accounting), and effectively come to the decision that it was worth going after the kind of something that I really wanted.

It has been so refreshing to come on board in an environment that seeks to bring justice and mercy, and to spread the gospel. It's a place where everyone is welcoming and agrees to provide a safe workplace - a majority of who raise their salaries through support. I have a job where I'm encouraged and given space to learn more about issues I have wanted to. My supervisor asked my opinion, and genuinely wanted it. My first week, we invited the holy spirit into our communications meeting! It's been a two weeks full of information, preparation, and a lot of processing, but I'm excited to be exactly where I am.

[This was mostly written at the end of my first week at Cru Inner City.]

All Things for a Season

One of my favorite pieces of wisdom from the Bible is in the lovely book of Ecclesiastes. I think whether or not you believe in God, a higher power, or nothing, there is great truth in that book. Much of it focuses on the idea that everything is meaningless. At first, that's an offensive notion, but the more you sit with it, the more its truth resonates. It also has a famous part that says there is a time for everything and a season for every activity. I have found a lot of peace in my life with my own adaptation, which if you know me well you have probably heard me say, "all things for a season."

This past weekend I heard a really freeing teaching along those lines. The man was talking about how there are passages in the Bible that refer to us being like eagles. (And again, maybe you don't necessarily care what the Bible has to say, regardless I still find it to be relevant to humans.) The concept surrounded how mother eagles ween their babies from the nest; the formative safe place. Apparently, they do this proverbial ripping off of the blankets in which they hover over the nest and create a windstorm with their wings. This allows the down feathers of the eaglets to be fanned away, preparing them for flight. The feathers were there to help the growing creatures for a time, but they served their purpose and were no longer needed for the next stages of their lives.

The teacher said this is often like things or people in our lives. There may be things we thought would always be there, but the reality is that they would not. This isn't to say that all things inevitably will leave our lives, but rather that not all things are as essential to our progression as we might perceive in the height of their presence in our lives.

What an ultimate relief this was to me. See, I have a basic affection for many people; most people, but there are certain people who get closer. Best friends, family, friends that are like family - and I know it's not unique to me, most people are this way. It's the inner circle, so to speak. I tend to be loyal to a fault, heart-wise. While admittedly my actions or choices don't always follow suit with said loyalty, my heart firmly plants its feet in trenches; immovable. So when those relationships dissolve or fall away, I continue to question what I could have done differently to salvage it, or if there's any feasible way to reconcile.

I don't mean to say I have found an excuse for cutting ties, as that is not something I recommend lightly, but most of the relationships that have left my life involved some sort of toxicity that even still in hindsight was irreparable. I usually feel the pang for those relationships gone-by due to a reminder of the times that were good. There were things I learned in those relationships that I am very thankful for knowing, in some cases even the pain, but I need to be reminded it was okay to let go; it needed to be let go. It is okay to have had something for its time, to mourn it when it's gone, but then to keep moving forward.

This revelation even helped me to hold more loosely to the relationships and things in my life now. Where there has been pain in things or relationships not going the way that I want, I can ease up clinging to my ideals. I am slowly learning that not everything is forever, rather all things for a season.

Perseverance

Life knocks the wind out of us all
some time,
and it feels a lot like letting go,
which is never all that easy;
even the more you learn,
it feels like something
you never knew how to do.
Yet the choice will come again,
to dust off the dream,
and to learn once more.
It's just that: a choice.
Remain the same or
go after it with all you've got.
You'll never get your dreams
if you don't have them.
A day's end sighs much greater,
much sweeter
having known the chase.
Dare to breathe again.

Mopey New Year's

A year ago I was sure this year would be better, as the previous one wasn't my favorite. This week, when I began to think about how I felt about 2014, in summation it also wasn't my favorite.

Usually I write some sort of "Year in Review" post about all the highlights, but I feel like this year just wasn't what I wanted it to be; my life wasn't what I wanted it to be. I didn't really live up to making it what I wanted to make it; doing what I wanted to. Some things yes, so I can't say it was an all-around failure, but I think I can say it was another tough year (then again, maybe its end is coloring it as a whole).

Maybe there were some lessons learned, or something to be gained - I don't even really know what. I feel a little like 2014 was the year of nothing. I have blinked and a whole year has gone by. Things I'd eagerly awaited came and went. Things unexpected came and went. Life was lived. In retrospect, it was sort of an underwhelming year. Which is more than was said for 2013, which I think I remember having been quite ready to be done with.

I suppose in some way that determines any possible new year's resolutions - which the only one I remember even having, I managed to maintain: no new TV shows for a year. I could have also been more intentional and so much closer with the Lord this year, but if it wasn't for some clear lessons in His steadfastness, I'd say I kind of completely blew that one. I did a lot of healthier things for a while, but also wasn't as healthy as I'd have liked to have been.

So it is in spite of the slight grump in my demeanor tonight that I close 2014, and again look forward in anticipation to what another year of life may hold. It is another time to begin afresh and so with even a glimmer of hope, may yours be one that is abundantly blessed, and new in as many ways!

Going Home Alone

If I haven't made it clear yet: I am real big into relationships. I always test extrovert. I used to never tire of company and think I could endlessly acquaint myself with people. Key phrase to note here is "used to".

This fall, I went through (or maybe am still on the exit of) a season of struggling, for lack of a more apt word. I felt like I couldn't really be around people. My well was run dry and where I would normally pack my time full of social activity and interaction, I secluded instead. Though it was out of character and I was aware of this foreign behavior, it never worried me. No, it wasn't that sort of seclusion. More the beat-down, worn-out person can't really do the whole be cheerful and engaged thing right now sort. So articulate, I know. I talk about it openly as I've felt like I am on the upswing. I think of it as having been a very strange season, but I also think I learned a lot and still am.

As I know I've written before, God and I have a lot of conversations and subsequent lessons on relationships. I love them, and they try me (which I know isn't specific to me). I am on a two-steps-forward, one-step-back journey of holding relationships open-handed (a phrase that's become Christian-ese to an extent, but is fitting.) There have been other times of being isolated, though unintentionally so, that were gray and painful. There have been relationships severed that have left me feeling broken. I have had to learn how to be with God when I have felt alone; how to be okay when He is the only one I have. That's still hard and I'm still learning, but I think it's good.

As a facet of this learning curve, and by some bizarre plot-twist, this autumn I learned to like to be alone in a way that often confused me. See, I used to hate it and while I'd still mostly rather be with someone than not, I don't loathe being by myself anymore. I value the time to process my day, or just let my mind rest and wander. I had never really thought I would enjoy being alone as much as I have learned to. Though it wasn't an especially enjoyable lesson, it is an important part of further growing up, for me.

My lessons aside, sometimes it is still incredibly difficult to go home alone. I don't mean that in any physical sense, or that of just "taking someone home" - rather, that it's one of the times when being single is the most potent. This was a night when that was difficult. Coming home with the simple desire to talk with someone who knows my story, knows my heart, and that I trust is rooting for me; a desire unquenched. It's a moment that it's hard not to be mad at God. "Yeah, yeah! I get it: lay down relationships, You're here for me - but right now, I just want someone tangible." And I don't mean the inane notion that another human will complete me. No. Companionship, partnership. Not unlike as children, when we returned home at the end of the day, someone was there to be on our side, ask about our day, seek to know our life. There's a comfort in that, and it's part of what makes it home. The lack thereof is what makes ending the day alone hard.

So for every coupled-off person who tells me to "enjoy being single," I can only retort: enjoy having a companion! Enjoy that you have someone to share a thought, that you have a partner in life, that when you lay your head down at night, it's next to someone else. Sure that has its challenges - it is two people in relationship - but I bet it sure beats the hell out of going it alone.

It Doesn't Last Long

It doesn't last long,

Anymore,

And no one is under a guise,

Of any sort.

You're more in love with your thoughts,

Than anything.

In your perceived inferiority,

Pride was the only thing that grew,

As if you thought it would save you,

- the irony.

I am always here,

But you are not,

You will always push,

And pull,

And twist and turn and ruin,

To break the box we've put you in,

So you think.

You've always been constantly on the brink,

Just out of sight and out of reach

From where you're meant to be,

But never would you let another help you to see,

It doesn't last long,

When for a while we get along,

Though I've taught my heart not to hurt,

Anymore.