Something big came up this week.
Honestly, "something big" has been coming up every week for most of 2014. I realized the other day that this year is nearly half over. And the thought bounced through my mind: "Well thank God it's almost done," as if a change of date will bring a change of circumstance. (Incidentally, it probably won't.) And the very next thought that popped up was, "Sweetheart, you asked for this. I'm working."
And that stopped me in my tracks.
This year-- this ridiculously hard, painful, confusing year-- is a direct answer to the prayer I whispered so many months ago. A prayer for the revival of my heart. A prayer for the recreation of the lukewarm life I was living. He answered, and my heart rebelled.
I have spent a lot of time wrestling with God and crying out to Him because of my circumstances. I have been discontent, impatient, afraid, and panicked. I have been convinced, at times, that God had surely turned His back to me. I have begged and begged for understanding, for clarity, and for closure. I have fought for acceptance, I have fought for love, and I have fought to be desired. Mostly, I think, the desire part. My heart longs to be desired, to be wanted. I feel it so deep in my gut, it hurts most of the time. Literally.
Well, all that effort has been 100% fruitless. All the fighting, all the trying, all the begging. Nothing has worked. Frankly, y'all, it's hella exhausting.
Two days ago, I sat in church. I love church, but I also hate it because I always end up crying. That's what happens when God does open heart surgery. There's not a lot to hold back the floodgates. I sat there, thinking about how undesirable I am and how alone I feel and how royally I seem to have screwed everything up. And then, we read this:
Some went out on the sea in ships;
they were merchants on the mighty waters.
24 They saw the works of the Lord,
his wonderful deeds in the deep.
25 For he spoke and stirred up a tempest
that lifted high the waves.
26 They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;
in their peril their courage melted away.
27 They reeled and staggered like drunkards;
they were at their wits’ end.
28 Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
and he brought them out of their distress.
29 He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed.
30 They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven.
31 Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind.
Psalm 107. A picture of how, sometimes, God puts you through hell to bring you even closer to Him.
And somewhere in the middle of Psalm 107, I heard this whisper:
"Precious girl, I want you. I desire you. Believe me, please."
And, okay, I burst into tears. Because God was telling me He wanted me. He actually really wants my heart so fiercely, He will push me to my limits, to the places where I feel I will absolutely not survive, in order that I will collapse into Him. I prayed for a heart-level recreation, and He is in the process of answering. He is stirring up that dang tempest for one reason: He wants me.
Let's take that in for a second. Because it applies to everyone, not just me.
God. Wants. Us. He wants me. He wants you. His desire is so great, the Being sitting at His right hand at this moment has holes in His hands and feet. And somehow I still sometimes don't believe it. But, y'all, there's even grace for that. God is relentlessly pursuing me, and actively showing me grace when I don't respond well to His pursuit. He does the same for you.
It is actually the most mind-blowing reality imaginable. And, the more I've thought about it, the more I realized God has actually spent a lot of time answering my prayers this year. Some of them in the exact way I wanted, some not so much. But He is most certainly listening.
Because He wants me.
So, listen, it's a process. I still feel like a certifiable lunatic 99.5% of the time. I still can't see where this is going or what the point is. But I am starting to see God's hand moving. I can trace where He has been, and marvel at the plan as it has unfolded thus far. Undeniably, He is gettin' shit done. (Is it okay to say shit in reference to God??)
2014 is half over. If I had it my way, the second half would be wildly different. Maybe it will be. Also maybe not. Regardless,
Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Why I'll probably visit Stockholm.
Today, I met Josephine.
Josephine left the coffee shop at the same time I did, and she asked me what there was to do and if I knew the number for the cab company. She had really cool high-waisted red pants and an accent. It was Swedish, which I never would have guessed, but she filled me in.
I offered to drive her to another coffee shop, since the one we were sitting outside of was about to close, and she agreed. More power to her, for consenting to get in the car with a total stranger. Although, let's face it, I'm not intimidating.
A quick ride turned into a beer and talking about style, travel, Stockholm, Nashville, siblings, and our life plans. We talked about Swedish aristocracy and American politicians (personally, I'd trade the politicians for the aristocracy). I learned that the only reason Sweden has a royal family is because Napoleon gifted Sweden to one of his generals. Like, "Oh, you won that battle for me? Take this country. Thanks a mil." Josephine commented that young people in Stockholm spend a lot of time achieving a style that the young people of Nashville just kind of let happen naturally. And, apparently, within the last two years everyone in Stockholm has grown a beard. We talked about immigration and how Sweden really does have the best healthcare and education programs ever. Because they're free.
She told me about the parties that happen at Midsummer, the longest day of the year. Which, in Sweden, is actually a huge deal because the sun only sets for about two hours. All the girls dress in white and wear flower crowns, and everyone goes to the country for a picnic and games and dancing around a decorated pole. Then they lay out on the grass and watch the sun set, and rise again. It sounds magical, and I want to go someday.
We traded travel stories, and talked about the places we've been. She told me about the time her mom made her stay in Italy for two years. Forgotten memories of European adventures with my sister came vividly to mind and brought joy to my heart all over again. And I remembered the sweet contentment that comes only from being somewhere you don't belong.
Then we went to a symphony concert in the park, because why not? and talked about dance, music, and Mozart. In Canada, I now know, they make you practice an instrument while you're in school and you don't even get to pick which one. And Josephine's dad used to own a restaurant that played only Mozart in the background.
Josephine has a lot of knowledge, which she very generously shared with me. She shared some knowledge with me unconsciously, too. But I took notes. For instance, boldness (ie: talking to that ombre-haired girl with the iPhone) is almost always a good idea, because it can lead to a night at the symphony with a new friend. And traveling stretches the mind and makes it bigger, wiser, and more interesting. There is such richness to be discovered, if we will get outside of ourselves for a moment and look.
Yeah, that was the big one. Getting outside of myself. I have become very inwardly focused, very narrow-minded lately. It has caused great anxiety and fear and unnecessary angst. Tonight I was reminded how big the world is, and how small I am in it. Which could be depressing, except that it's not.
My troubles, which seem so big, are so very small on a global scale. There is much to enjoy, much to discover, much to make happen. And the beauty is that I can be a part of the enjoyment, the discovery and the doing by simply being, and seizing opportunity as it comes.
Josephine taught me a lot, but what she taught me mostly was to look up and out. Not in. To focus on my surroundings, not my circumstances.
And, hey, now I have a friend in Sweden.
Josephine left the coffee shop at the same time I did, and she asked me what there was to do and if I knew the number for the cab company. She had really cool high-waisted red pants and an accent. It was Swedish, which I never would have guessed, but she filled me in.
I offered to drive her to another coffee shop, since the one we were sitting outside of was about to close, and she agreed. More power to her, for consenting to get in the car with a total stranger. Although, let's face it, I'm not intimidating.
A quick ride turned into a beer and talking about style, travel, Stockholm, Nashville, siblings, and our life plans. We talked about Swedish aristocracy and American politicians (personally, I'd trade the politicians for the aristocracy). I learned that the only reason Sweden has a royal family is because Napoleon gifted Sweden to one of his generals. Like, "Oh, you won that battle for me? Take this country. Thanks a mil." Josephine commented that young people in Stockholm spend a lot of time achieving a style that the young people of Nashville just kind of let happen naturally. And, apparently, within the last two years everyone in Stockholm has grown a beard. We talked about immigration and how Sweden really does have the best healthcare and education programs ever. Because they're free.
She told me about the parties that happen at Midsummer, the longest day of the year. Which, in Sweden, is actually a huge deal because the sun only sets for about two hours. All the girls dress in white and wear flower crowns, and everyone goes to the country for a picnic and games and dancing around a decorated pole. Then they lay out on the grass and watch the sun set, and rise again. It sounds magical, and I want to go someday.
We traded travel stories, and talked about the places we've been. She told me about the time her mom made her stay in Italy for two years. Forgotten memories of European adventures with my sister came vividly to mind and brought joy to my heart all over again. And I remembered the sweet contentment that comes only from being somewhere you don't belong.
Then we went to a symphony concert in the park, because why not? and talked about dance, music, and Mozart. In Canada, I now know, they make you practice an instrument while you're in school and you don't even get to pick which one. And Josephine's dad used to own a restaurant that played only Mozart in the background.
Josephine has a lot of knowledge, which she very generously shared with me. She shared some knowledge with me unconsciously, too. But I took notes. For instance, boldness (ie: talking to that ombre-haired girl with the iPhone) is almost always a good idea, because it can lead to a night at the symphony with a new friend. And traveling stretches the mind and makes it bigger, wiser, and more interesting. There is such richness to be discovered, if we will get outside of ourselves for a moment and look.
Yeah, that was the big one. Getting outside of myself. I have become very inwardly focused, very narrow-minded lately. It has caused great anxiety and fear and unnecessary angst. Tonight I was reminded how big the world is, and how small I am in it. Which could be depressing, except that it's not.
My troubles, which seem so big, are so very small on a global scale. There is much to enjoy, much to discover, much to make happen. And the beauty is that I can be a part of the enjoyment, the discovery and the doing by simply being, and seizing opportunity as it comes.
Josephine taught me a lot, but what she taught me mostly was to look up and out. Not in. To focus on my surroundings, not my circumstances.
And, hey, now I have a friend in Sweden.
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