Thursday, October 30, 2014

Day 15: To finish what you said you would.

Well, it's been 30 days since I said yes to this 30 day writing challenge. I have 15 days completed. 

Rather than feel like I'm failing or letting people down (which is tempting), I'm celebrating these 15 days completed. 

I'm celebrating because I tried something new. I started a journey that I didn't (and still don't) know how to complete. Each day is a decision to keep going, each post an attempt to put words of faith onto paper. Each day is a conversation between the Lord and I that goes something like: 

Now what are you teaching me today about fear that I should share?

It's unknown. It's vulnerable. This new experience in itself is teaching me about faith. And about how to be brave (fancy that!) 

I'm also celebrating because of the discipline it's cultivating in my heart. I said I would, so I will. That's what perseverance is. It's the daily sticking-to-it-when-I-don't-feel-like-it stuff. No waiting until I am inspired and have ample amounts of free time to write. It's risky business. Commitments usually are. Yet with commitment comes resolve and a sweet dependence on the one who writes these words on this soul to be shared. 

I'm practicing brave by finishing what I said I would. You know what I'm discovering? Bravery builds on itself. Each bold baby step a great contribution to a newly engrained habit to trust. Bravery is coming easier. 

Anyone can start, only the brave finish well. In this small way, I am choosing brave. Let's keep learning for 15 more days! 



Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Day 14: When it takes bravery to use your gifts

Does anyone else find it awkward to say: 

I'm good at that. ???

I do. I really do. It's also very uncomfortable to hear those words from others. But it's complicated because it's something I crave, nonetheless. I believe we all do. I believe this because we all have gifts. We all have unique things that only we can offer our communities, our world. But it takes bravery to use those gifts. 

Gifts take some coaxing to come out and shine and be used well. 

We've been told not to self-promote. We've been told not to become self-absorbed and puffed up with pride. Now the pendulum has swung in compensation. Gifts lie dormant, gathering dust. What holds them back? The very recognizable yet very sneaky fear. 

These gifts have never been about us. They originate from the Creator's imagination, graciously bestowed on the created to be grown, refined, and used for our great joy and His fame. Yet fear tells us to be careful, cautious, don't get too eager, don't abuse these abilities. Wisdom is good, but suppressing gifts goes against the edification process, one process in which our Creator displays His creativity to his world. 

So gifts need coaxing. We need to start recognizing and watching in wonder at our brothers and sisters. We need to call out the good we see in each other; be their advocates who are willing to say "you're good at that" when they are afraid. We need to acknowledge the source of these abilities and let our jaws fall open in amazement at the imagination of our Father. We need to accept the praise of others when they call out our gifts, fingers pointing upward to the glorious Gift-giver. 

Be brave. Use those gifts. What are you good at? 


Saturday, October 25, 2014

Day 13: Submission & Bravery: another lesson from Sarah.

"Wives, in the same way submit yourselves to your own husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives... For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to adorn themselves.They submitted themselves to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her lord. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear."
{1 Peter 3}

I am a daughter of Sarah. This verse intrigues me and gives me comfort. It has for quite some time. I am that grafted-in daughter. What does it mean to not give way to fear? 

The word "fear" in this verse could mean 2 different things: 

1. General fear of terror or the unknown. Another translation puts it this way, "And you are her children if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening". Anything? Anything. That is a tall order. This is one way to interpret this passage. However, I think it's best explained by number two. 

2. Fear of submission. Submission can be scary if you do not understand what it truly is. In our culture submission represents weakness. It is often met with manipulation. By God's design, submission is a yielding of oneself out of trust and respect. It's dropping "my way" in exchange for "our way" or at times, "your way". I could get off on a very big tangent on the concept of submission, but I will abstain (be watching for a future blog post!) Marriage is the most obvious context for this, but in ALL relationships submission must occur. There is a natural, healthy rhythm in relationships; an ebb and flow of give and take mingling and bowing out to create a harmony that is God-designed and God-pleasing. In my most familiar context in this season, I get to practice submission daily with my husband. Submission looks different with us. We mutually give and take, lead and follow each other. We are learning because we are new. Mutual submission means two sinful people seeking to do things the way our Creator intends, the way culture and media tells us is outdated and counterproductive. But we learn this rhythm, our wills taking the backseat while our vow to serve each other steers. 

Submission means yielding even without the promise of cooperation from the other person. Submission means not having to be recognized, justified or right. Submission is difficult and unnatural. Submission is the way of the Creator. It is not a master and servant kind of relationship, it is a relationship made up of two servants, both committed to disadvantaging themselves for the other. It is trusting that the other person has your best interest in mind; they won't coerce or abuse. Submission trusts that even if one is wronged, that justice will be found and executed by the Good Father who sees all. 

I take comfort from this passage. I take comfort in this challenge to learn to be a daughter of Sarah, a daughter of the Promise. First, what a relief to know that even Sarah leaned toward the temptation to fear. What a relief to know that I'm not alone. Second, submission takes bravery. Yielding to the Creator's way in my relationships is right, but it is brave. It is vulnerable. And I choose this way. 




Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Day 12: What fear teaches me about worship

Fear brings many negative things. Now let's be clear: I'm not talking about the fear of walking into traffic on the street or fear of putting my hand on a hot stove and getting burned. Those kinds of fears are built into our instinct. Those fears keep us safe in a good way. I'm talking that kind of fear that comes out of nowhere, sucks the breath out of your lungs, makes you want to run away, then puts lead in your shoes so you are unable to move. This is the fear that makes me stuck. This is the fear I fight. 

Sometimes fear brings something good. Fear teaches me about worship. 

What is worship? 

Worship: {treat somebody or something as deity }

My soul was created for worship- for the adoration of someone or something. 

I am always worshipping. 

As I take a look at some of my fears, I ask myself- what's behind that? Typically what's behind a fear is a misdirected object of worship. 

I'm afraid to lose a loved one. {worshipping safety, relationships}
I'm afraid of how I'm perceived. {worshipping affirmation of others}
I'm afraid of where/what God could ask of me. {worshipping comfort} 

Fear teaches me that behind these irrational, doom & gloom, anxious thoughts is most likely a misdirected object of worship. Fear teaches me that I need to affirm that Jesus is on the throne and the only one worthy. Fear tells me to capture and take captive those thoughts; to make His enthronement foremost. 

What are you worshipping today that is behind what you are afraid of? 




Monday, October 20, 2014

Day 11: Be careful where your peace comes from

I realize I have already mentioned this once. However, I only really very briefly referenced it. It's something I've been really anxious about the last few days so it would be silly to be sharing words about bravery and not reference the thought that frequents my nervous brain as of late. 

I am pretty freaked out about Ebola. 


I can't quite identify quite why. Well, besides the fact that it is a life-threatening illness without a cure. It hasn't yet touched my life or even the life of anyone I know. But I can't rule out that it ever would. 

Fear thrives in the dark. It feeds on those thoughts that are not quite unreasonable. Fear devours and grows with every 'what if' or 'could'. If I can't rule it out, it scares me. With every news story, every interview my 'what if's get bigger. I would be lying if I told you that I haven't started planning what my underground, disease-free fortress looks like. I've abused my little personal bottle of hand sanitizer. I have dry, scaly skin to prove it. 

So I've looked up statistics. I've clung to facts and reason to try to dispute my fright. I've contemplated the quality of the United States' medical care and hospitals, attempting to positively self-talk myself out of possibilities. 

It's still scary. 

Is there another antidote for this fear? I sure hope so. While discussing my wandering, spiraling scrutiny with a brother friend, he said something simply. He said something deeply, profoundly true by asking me what I knew without a doubt to be true. I thought, dug down deep, and responded, 

I know that no matter what, God is good. He can be trusted. And I belong to Him. 

He smiled. Then he asked me to say it again, this time with fuller confidence. 

I know that no matter what, God is GOOD. He can be trusted. And I belong to Him!! 

Somehow saying these words, that didn't even mention ebola or my fear or my probability of contracting this disease, started the journey to set me free. 

It's funny when we try to use facts and science and tangible proof to find peace. We end up chasing peace for longer. Our peace needs to come from something deeper, bigger. Peace is the anchor that keeps me stable, unfettered by circumstances and able to find joy right in the middle of evil. Right in the middle of a disease. Even if you cannot rule it out. Peace takes away the need to. 

Be careful where your peace comes from. It may not be peace. May you find it in the deep, unshakable truth of the character of our God and your security as His child. 



Friday, October 17, 2014

Day 10: It takes bravery to find your voice

Today I practiced brave. 

Sitting in a class, varied ages and experiences and credentials much more distinguished than mine, my eyes took it all in. Professor spoke, I scribbled notes. A question was posed.

Oh! I know this! I have something to say!

But my analytical self, that side of myself that causes me to pause, cleared its throat and reminded me how small and inexperienced I was. And that I might come across as a young professional pretending to be a grownup. So I pursed my lips and jotted down a few more words.

Conversation continued, my imagination soared, wide-eyed as creativity took flight. Connections between content and real life things built bridges in my mind. Excited, a thought escaped my mouth, betraying the analatical self. Cheeks blazing, fear prepared me to be wrong. I was met with nods of agreement from the faces next to me; a look of surprised approval from professor. Strength was born, its steady warmth rising up inside me. I found the space where I could speak. I found that the things keeping me silent weren't worth forsaking the blessing of finding my voice. Each time my hand raised, that steady strength grew and my voice got fuller and more confident.


Today I exercised bravery. Today I faced the fear of insecurity, the fear of disapproval. I found my voice.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Day 9: What's in a name?

The fasten seatbelt sign beeped. I looked outside at the large moon, hanging bright over the dark sky. My best friend and I were headed to the East Coast and it was our last leg. So far, a very smooth flight. Then it hit. Almost as if our little plane had been placed inside a washing machine, we bounced up and down, lightning flashing through the cabin. Eyes wide with fear, we looked at each other and squeezed hands. 

Flying scares me. Even smooth flights. Which is crazy because I've flown internationally multiple times. I see flying as an end to a means- something I watch movies and take naps through until it's over. 

This was not a smooth flight. Our flight attendant buckled herself in and squealed at large drops. Not comforting. I squeezed my bestie's hand so hard I thought her fingers would forever be stuck together.

I closed my eyes. Leaned my head back. Squeezed my stomach muscles together to keep from dropping. I was petrified. And then I instinctually did something I did not completely understand. Up from the deep places in me, I whispered through gritted teeth the name of Jesus. 

That's all I knew how to say. My soul prompted what my mind didn't know it needed. Again I whispered,

Jesus. 

The flights was only 30 minutes long. We landed safely and smoothly. There was no dramatic rescue in the air or an intense spiritual awakening. There was, however, a realization of the power offered to me in the name of the One who bought me. My lips did not know what to ask for. My soul knew the key to freedom from fear: that there was power in the simple utterance of the name of Jesus. 

Do we do that? Do we say yes to the power available to us in Jesus by saying His name and claiming His freedom over fear? 


Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Day 8: The necessary thorn

Life is a delicate dance. It is a dance between too far and not far enough. It is a quest for balance. 

On my journey to identifying and learning to choose brave, I've found that my struggle with fear also points to this need for this balance. On one hand, I fight my tendency to fear. On the other hand, I need this struggle. 


So to keep me from becoming proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan to torment me and keep me from becoming proud.
Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.”
{2 Corinthians}
I hear the frustration, the battling in Paul's account. I hear the resolute submission. The thorn that's spoken of here could either be referring to a physical ailment or an emotional annoyance. It remains unclear, but this we do know: the thorn was purposeful. The thorn was necessary. 
Credit to Ken Watson
On a very small scale, I identify with Paul. I know the annoyance that plagues. I know the gut-wrenching cries begging for relief. I also know the grace given in response. Oh, how deeply I know that grace! 
Fear is that thorn for me. That annoying, pesky, uncomfortable, painful something that brings me to my knees. Everyone has something that brings them to their knees. Addiction, chronic pain, disappointment, that one cherished but very hidden sin. What is it for you?
I need this struggle. I need this thorn. Nothing makes me quite so needy. Nothing leads me to prayer so readily. Fear is the most common topic the Lord and I talk about. Without the thorn, where would the faith be? Where would the childlike dependence come from? 
I need this struggle. I still fight fear and choose victory in Jesus; through Him I am more than an overcomer. But I bless the something that pulls me down to my knees, out of the busyness of the running pace. It hurts, it annoys, I still imagine life without it. 
But I bless the necessary thorn. 


Monday, October 13, 2014

Day 7: When it takes bravery to dream.

I am a dreamer. Ideas and possibility paint bright colors across the canvas of my heart, propelling me forward, hope a bounce in my step. 

I always thought no one could handle my dreaming. Afraid of being misunderstood or feeling inadequate has led me to make my dreams more compact, more realistic, smaller. 

I met him on a cold winter night, hair in a messy ponytail, old sweatshirt on. Uninterested in impressing, I let the uninhibited self, the dreaming self show. I was met with intrigue. I was met with encouragement. I was met with empowering, bold love. I married a man who dreamed as big as me. 

I sat down with her and spilled all of my musings. Heart on the table, imagination working its magic. I was met with a "you can do that. I believe in you". I was met with a deep commitment to investment in the things that moved me. Those dreams were a flame in me that were fanned and built up to be the fire that warmed the rest of life. She is still the one who fans the flame most often. My mom spoke purpose. My mom brings out the dreamer in me. 

Those dreams still grow, begging to be pursued. 

One of those big dreams involves travel. The globe calls to us- to come explore and minister. My strong husband with big dreams picks up the paintbrush of imagination, and we create, side by side; possibility and divine creativity spreading out before our eyes. We research, we pray, we seek and knock. 

But what happens when epidemics like ebola spread? What happens when daily news brings tidings of gloom and warfare? These come and extinguish the warmth of our dreams. They discourage and tell us that maybe we'd be better off just staying where we're at. I put our paintbrushes away, shaking my head and stuffing our ideas back into the compact box of realism. 

I recognize this as fear. Fear tells you to look at the tumultuous waves around your feet when you're called to walk toward Jesus. Fear often disguises itself as practicality. Fear binds up and wants you stuck. Fear extinguishes dreaming. 

Sometimes it takes bravery to dream. Unrealistic? Perhaps. Unsafe? Probably. But I choose the fulfilled, the risky, the courageous life. There is no safer place than right where God wills me- into the technicolor of imagination and faith. 

It takes bravery to dream. 


Sunday, October 12, 2014

Day 6: When it takes bravery to be all where you are.

I am a dreamer. I am a big picture optimist. Sometimes a dreamer like me with a heart full of aspirations needs to learn how to be fully present.

Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God. 
{Jim Elliot}

Some days your head tells you where God wills you to be.

Abide in me, He says. Stay and dwell where you are and through me bear fruit.

But your mind and heart don’t always agree.

Lately, my heart is heavy. Haggard and exhaustion are knocking on the door of the present, whispering to me to give up. They offer dreaming not as a gift, but an escape.  It’s an invitation to dwell in discontent and dissatisfaction.  It’s tempting to dwell on the things that could be, that maybe life would be easier/better/happier if I were someplace else.

Yet wouldn’t this discontent just find me again, luring me into daydreaming in the world of could be? It would be a matter of time.

Bravery sometimes means facing what scares you, makes you tired, and deciding to stick with it anyway. Bravery means ignoring the urge to daydream your disillusionment away. Bravery means taking those heavyhearted thoughts and simply asking my Father what He thinks about them.

Abide in me, He says. Stay and dwell where you are and through me bear fruit.

Stay, abide, pray, persevere. This is the will of God for me now. Here is where I will remain and bear fruit. Here is where I will choose and where I will dig down deep my roots of contentment.


It takes bravery to be all where you are.


Friday, October 10, 2014

Day 5: What I learned from counter intuition & J.K. Rowling

“Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself”
J.K. Rowling

One of the most powerful, most counterintuitive thoughts that’s ever been shared with me came from a wise woman friend of mine. In fact it’s changed the deeply engrained habits of my fearful mind.

Fear goes to extremes. Fear lives within the what if’s. An innocent inquiry about the future turns into a breeding ground for anxiety.

In one of my more recent fretful battles, words of worry spilling quickly out of my mouth, she looked at me. With loving but frank words she stated,

Name your worst fears. What IF they come to pass? What’s the worse that could happen? Could you live with that?

I did NOT want to go there. My worst fears were a dark, menacing unhappy place. I was not exactly sure what they were, but I knew they were terrifying.

But I did anyway, bracing myself. What I found was really quite surprising. Those extremes, those what if’s that were a stronghold were what I walked right up to, inspected and walked away oddly unintimidated. IF indeed my worst fears come to pass (IF), I discovered that yes; yes I could live with that. No, it wouldn’t be easy. Yes, it would be scary. But I could live. Hallelujah, I would cling to the promised presence of my Lord, and I could live.

It was then that fear let its slip show. It rapidly loses its power when it is called out by name.  Call it what it is: Fear of abandonment, fear of loss of control, fear of disapproval.


So I flip on the light, get bossy and tell my fear what it really is, and in a small way practice being a conqueror as fear shrinks away from me, powerless. 


Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Day 4: It's not about the whales

I did one thing that scared me this weekend.

Do you have something that scares you, like really makes your stomach flip flop, but you have no idea why and you’re not sure when it started? Do others think it’s irrational?

Well, that’s how I feel about whales. I know, I know they are not sharks. Yes, I’m probably over exaggerating. Try telling my fear that!

There we sat, overlooking the bay during one of the most mystical, beautiful fall evenings I’d ever seen. The sun was setting, the wind was low, sea mist lifted and fell, and the sky told a story with all of its wondrous colors. It was perfect. Almost. Every once in a while a little puff of air would appear in the bay. It was a whale! It was a pod of whales, in fact.

Shudder


I cringed and peered through one eye open, burying my face in my husband’s shoulder. My friends teased me and reminded me that it couldn’t eat me that I was up on a cliff, a good couple of miles away from them. Their words were true. But sometimes you can’t just reason away fear.

Fear. What is it?

We all know it. This example is a small (well, very large actually) sampling of my smorgasbord of fears. Some are irrational and silly like my whale-o-phobia, some are much deeper, soul fears. We’ll get there.

I’ve been thinking about why it is that whales scare me. And I discovered something. It’s not about the whales.

Fear usually has roots. It parades itself and announces its presence as the fruit that those roots produce. In my case, I think the roots of this phobia come from my fear of the unknown. I am terrified of deep, immeasurable, dark waters and the animals therein.   I am afraid of the unknown. I am afraid of what I can't control. Interesting enough, this same fear is one that could be the root from which other scared behaviors grow.  Hmmm.

Do you have fears? Irrational ones? Very real ones? Do some searching. Do some digging. What’s the root?


It’s probably not about the whales.


Monday, October 6, 2014

Day 3: Hagar & Sarai. Where I find myself. {pt 2}

Then the angel of the Lord told her {Hagar}, “Go back to your mistress and submit to her.” The angel added, “I will increase your descendants so much that they will be too numerous to count.”…. 
She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.”
 (Gen. 16)

It had been a year since the roots of my faith became the anchor that empowered my life to take flight. A year since the big Question and my big (terrified) answer: yes. Yes, I trusted Him. A year since I cut the ties that linked me to my very big dream. It had been a year of healing, question asking, wrestling, and needily clinging to the One whose strong hand sustained me.

What I did not realize when I said yes to faith, was that it was only the beginning of a series of other challenges. My naïve, learning little self expected the fulfillment of the promise to come instantaneously. So I waited, eyes shifting expectantly, as if my demonstration of faith merited a heavenly reward. And I waited. And waited more. The honeymoon period following a climax of trust dimmed, leaving me lonely and confused.  So I rolled up my sleeves and looked for ways to expedite the promise He gave me. My impatience and fear of being forgotten convinced me to try things for myself. This commenced a 6-year period I like to call:

The wandering.

I so see myself in Sarai.

I impetuously pulled my heart back into my grasp and jumped back into the dating world. I leaped before I looked, wishful thinking acted as my guide. Gentlemen were not difficult to find, each funny, good looking and just my type- the husband type. I reached down, picked up that neatly packed box of dreams that was shattered, and awkwardly attempted to put it back together. It was the only context I knew, and each date was with a gentleman who fit so neatly into that box. I reverted back to my old methods and informed God that I would like him to open my heart up to this very nice, safe and predictable potential husband. Long walks, phone talks, and letters from afar marked my expedition to find love. My poor family walked alongside me, lovingly investing in each one, then had to say their goodbyes when I couldn’t commit. Something just wasn’t right. There was a forever-present fortress up, walling off my heart, making it impossible to receive love.  There was a severe lack of peace. The one thing I ached for was the elusive ghost that flitted so closely to my heart, but absolutely could not land. So my heart learned a pattern. It was a pattern that got me into a cycle of fear that I numbly circled through dozens of times.

Intrigue. Pursuit. Commit? Fear. Run away. Disillusionment. Discouragement.

And like Hagar, fear plagued me, swarming around my busy mind, drowning out the peaceful tune of God’s melody of love for me. I ran. I had no other option. Over and over I ran, away from things that were close to my heart, away from commitment, away from the abiding life I was called to. It seemed as if the aching desire to be married was unreachable and God had forgotten His promise.

It was in the running, in the deserts of anxiety that I was met with the compassion of my Maker.

Where is it that you are going?

He always meets me with a question. Not just any question, but a gentle, knowing question. A question that makes me cry and come clean.

Again he reminded me,
My heart for you is good.
Go back and submit to my way. You can’t hide to avoid what scares you.
Remember:  I created your longings and will do immeasurably more than you know how to ask for. Trust me.

I so see myself in Hagar.

Why is it that we avoid waiting periods? For me it was a lack of control. It was a little doubt that grew rapidly- could I really trust?

Now fast forward a few years. The wandering did not end. The anxiety still plagued me at times. Though I had one good year- a year where I learned the art of contentment. I learned that trust was messy. It meant facing what scared me. It meant embracing the rock solid foundational certainty that Jesus was and is enough.

I met my husband in the most unlikely place in the most unlikely time, when I wasn't on a husband hunt. He was strong, comfortable, kind and so not the type to fit neatly within my little box. He was home.  And I was delighted to receive the immeasurably more that was promised to me so many years before. It was more than a longing fulfilled. It was a longing extravagantly satisfied, filled with blessing and abundance spilling over. My mouth proclaimed the joy spilling from my satisfied soul,

“I have now seen the One who sees me”!

Fear is no match for the radical way I am seen and intimately known by the One who pursues me into the desert of my anxiety. He sees me. I am changed.  





Sunday, October 5, 2014

Day 2: Hagar & Sarai. Where I see myself. {pt.1}

Then Sarai mistreated Hagar; so she fled from her.
 The angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert; it was the spring that is beside the road to Shur.  And he said, “Hagar, slave of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?”
“I’m running away from my mistress Sarai,” she answered. 
(Gen. 16)

Running, running. Feet pounding the earth, heart pounding in the ears. Tears flying, warm and disappointed. Feet pounding, driving her to a place far away. Far away from that look- the look of jealousy, hot hatred and contempt. Heart filled with so much anxiety, what else was there to do but flee? Mistreated, vulnerable, uncertain, scared.

I see myself in Hagar.

Fuming frustration. A promise was given, but no blessing in sight. Faith was waning. If the Almighty God was so able why, WHY was He causing her to wait? Hope and anger directed at the same source. Jaded and burnt out, bitterness stored up and decaying, the stench became an embarrassment to the neighbors. Trust. Trust. Had he really promised? Perhaps a push, a little effort on her part to move his hand…

I see myself in Sarai.

This chapter, this small story tucked into a chapter in Genesis, seems like the insignificant tale of a servant girl. However, to me this story speaks hope. This story speaks healing to a fearful heart.

I am no stranger to fear. No, I have not been a slave. I have not been mistreated and abused. But I have experienced the kind of fear, the kind that both paralyzes you and tells you that the only escape is to flee. I know the frustration that comes when your head reminds you that God’s heart for you is good, that you can trust that your deepest desires are ones that He planted. But the battle in the heart starts when those pushy doubts lure you into taking what is for certain and turning it into a question.

I am no stranger to fear. It forced its large, yet sneaky, slithering self into my life at the dawn of my young adult life. College brought change and late nights and independence and friendships and the sprouting of seeds prayerfully sown by my parents. Beliefs and interests and values began a beautiful merging that was terrifying and fulfilling and real. My heart beat a new rhythm, a rhythm that was strong and seemed to align with the heartbeat of my Creator. It was as if I stopped and finally noticed the sun as the source of all lumination, rather than just accepting the presence and convenience of light. 

Coming to college was scary. High school was easy and familiar. It was the place in which I knew my place. I graduated, tossed my cap and squished all my dreams into a neatly packed, small box and informed God of my plans. One of those dreams, one that stayed so close to my heart, was the desire to be a wife. Mr. For Sure, my boyfriend of 3 years, was tall and respectful and I loved him as much as a 17-year-old knew how. We wrote letters, had homework sessions, shared holiday dinners, held hands, and dreamed about forever. The first and last man who I thought would ever capture my heart. My heart knew no other option.

Halfway through college, at the dawning of a fresh faith journey, was what I understand to be my first life-shifting encounter with the Holy Spirit.

Do you trust me??

Big words. Big question. Yes? A slow nod in response, quizzical expression on my young face.

Again, Do you trust me??

Tumultuous emotions ensued. Troubled sleep. Soul searching. For the first time, my soul felt out of place. After weeks of prayer and counsel seeking, the hovering haze of anxiety had a place to land. And I was terrified. Trust meant releasing my grip on the neatly packed box of plans and letting it fall down, down, down until it broke and tumbled open and rearranged completely. Trust meant starting over completely. Trust meant saying goodbye to Mr. For Sure and letting my comforter comfort while whispering bigger dreams to my heart.

So I said yes. When the Creator asks you a question, it begs an answer and it always involves heart change. My little box of dreams was pried from my fingers and messily spilled all over my tidy life. My heart was upside down and aching. Yet in the messy aching and dropping of dreams, He met me there. He met me there with gentleness and matched my tears with his own. I had lots of questions. I had so much hurt. I didn’t trust Him. His response:

My heart for you is good. I created your longings and will do immeasurably more than you know how to ask for. Trust me.


And so began a beautiful, very scary, very meaningful time of tip toe faith and sometimes wandering. A journey from fear to faith. 


Friday, October 3, 2014

30 Days of Brave {choosing faith, not fear}

It is the beginning of October. There's a freshness in the air. It brings a freshness to my soul. 

I follow a my friend, Myquillin over at The Nesting Place. Her pictures and words about home help me to dream. She hosts an annual challenge called the 31 Day writing challenge where writers (or aspiring writers) choose a topic and write about it every day for the month of October. 31 DAYS, people! That's a lot of words. My immediate response was:

OOOH. I'd like to do that. 

Then my instinctual, self-conscious self combated,

Who would want to read 31 days of anything you'd have to write about? 

So I waited. Perhaps this was just a passing fancy. 
It did not pass. And now it is October 3rd. I decided to give this month of writing thing a shot....a few days late.

It did not take me long to choose a topic to explore because it is a topic that is so pertinently on my mind almost everyday. It is a topic that brings me to my knees. It is a topic that I feel the Lord speaking to the most often in my faith walk. It is a topic that, if I look critically, is at the root of every mistake, sin, and worried thought.
Fear.
Anyone else struggle with it? Do you feel its icy breath when you want to try something new, speak those words, apply for that job, initiate in that relationship?

We don't have to be its slave. We are free to struggle, but we are not overcome. And we are definitely not made to struggle alone.

So today begins with me exposing of my struggle for you to see. Today begins an invitation to you to join me, and perhaps finding a companion in your journey. Today begins with me doing one thing that scares me {30 days, people!} Today begins 30 days of writing.



Join me?