an honest (and long) post on where i’m at
–listen to “secret of the easy yoke” by pedro the lion while reading –
i want to move back to chicago. i want to move back to chicago. i want to move back to chicago. or, my church can move to kansas city. buuutttt i’m thinking it’s easier to move a single girl to the big city, than it is to move 50 families to podunk kc. so….i want to move back to chicago.
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during onething’09 i was talking with my friend, and she asked me if there was something that i needed to lay down before the Lord. we shared about different things that the Lord had asked us to put on the alter, and she noted that the Lord not only asks us to lay down the bad stuff, but He also tells us to lay down the good stuff . bleh. that’s when i realized
i did not want to give up chicago
moving back to chicago was my little piece of comfort. no matter how bad things got, i would tell myself that this was only temporary, b.c very soon i was going to return back to my church. even my identity…..the things that i’m passionate about. youth ministry, worship leading…discipleship. i LOVE and find so much life in doing those things. but for some reason when coming to kc….none of it ever clicked. instead i’m doing the one thing i thought i was never going to have to do ever again when i moved out here: design. so i immediately started freaking out with tears and whines. but at the end of the day, i knew that that’s what i needed to do. bc ultimately…i want God. or well. right now i just want to want God. but that’s a start.
you’d think that living next to a facility that has prayer and worship 24/7 would be awesome. and you’d think that living down the street from a building that hold services that is verging on rrevival would be mind blowing. don’t get me wrong, i think it’s dandy that these things are happening. but sitting in the prayer room or going to the awakening services have been nothing but bitter. not the most perfect analogy, but it’s like going to a birthday party for someone else…..on your birthday. you’re happy to be celebrating the other person’s life, think it’s great that their friends are surrounding them in love, cake, and streamers. but…even though you might be in on the celebration, there’s still that weird feeling of being incredibly left out, b.c you’re also supposed to be blowing out candles and tearing wrapping paper. you’re looking at a scene that could very much, and very easily be yours, but for whatever reason, it’s not. i sit in the prayer room, and i see God’s love. i see His grace, His mercy, i see. but it’s just within my reach. like i’m on the other side of the glass, seeing what could be mine, but even though i’m saying “heck yeah!” it’s still just….on the other side of the glass. in my bitterness i feel taunted. in my pity i feel alone.
the past two months have been hypothetical hell. i have lost any interest in life. i wasn’t depressed and thinking suicidal thoughts. i just….didn’t care. every day was just another 24 hours to exist. i was on an airplane ride that was lasting for a lifetime, and i was sitting in coach on china airlines. a couple weeks ago i finally called a friend to ask for prayer. she asked me if i wanted to go back to chicago, and i realized that in all honesty, i didn’t.
i don’t want to go back to chicago…..that’s weird.
that’s when processing was jump s tarted. i realized that back during the conference, i actually did lay down the prospect of going back to chicago. it’d be AMAZING if the Lord gave that back to me…..but i only want to do it if that’s what He wants to give me. and these past two months have been the pain of being separated from that hope/dream. again, totally bad analogy, but it’s like breaking up with a really great guy. you make all these plans: imagine your future with them, start placing part of your identity in being a part of him, write “mrs. —-” in your journal….and then for whatever reason, you have to let go of that dream. that place of comfort, security, that place where “happily ever after” feels like it just might exist…it gets pulled out from under you. and all you’re left with is your miserable self and your broken heart.
so now….i’m still pretty miserable. haha. i don’t know who i am anymore, i don’t have any passions, i don’t have any desires, i don’t have any dreams. i don’t even know if i love God. but i must…..bc i’m still here. which means i have a hope, and i have a dream. what those things are…..i don’t know beyond…God. that’s all i know: God. i’ve read “a grief observed” by cs lewis on repeat since Grace passed away (ps. grace, i still love you, and i still miss you). there’s this section where lewis talks about God and pain. Lewis states:
“The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there is any use in begging for tenderness. A cruel man might be bribed – might grow tired of this vile sport – might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety. But suppose that what you are up against is a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless. But is it credible that such extremities of torture should be necessary for us? Well, take your choice. The tortures occur. If they are unnecessary, then there is no God or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary. For not even a moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren’t. Either way, we’re for it. What do people mean when they say, ‘I am not afraid of God because I know He is good?’ Have they never even been to a dentist?”
i kept asking God for mercy, asking Him to let it stop. but it was actually His grace and mercy to let it all keep going, even though i was cursing His name.
i’m not less miserable. and i’m not less lost. but it all is a bit more bearable. at this point, all i know to do is pray. and the only words i’ve bee praying are “help. Jesus.” God is good, and He’s faithful to finish what He has started. i just…really hope that it’s in me to hold on long enough. because like bazan sang “if this is only a test, i hope that i’m passing. cause i’m losing steam. but i still want to trust you…”
holy big brush!
i’m not very good at painting.
mainly because i haven’t really had a chance to get into it that much. I very much would like to though, but only because i like brushes. i think they look so cool. covered in paint, dripping wet, or just sitting in a jar. There’s something about a paintbrush that is so………aesthetically calming? lol i have no idea what i’m talking about. but you’re here on my blog, which means for some reason you’ve become willing to subject yourself to my ramblings. so here i am. rambling. ramble ramble.
stopped
the other day i was driving and all of a sudden it looked like everyone around me was in slow motion and moving to a stand still. it reminded me of the Big Fish and the scene where the main character sees the girl and everything stopped while he was still moving at a normal pace, pushing aside the popcorn that had stopped mid-air. There was a delicate silence about all of it, and all i could think was
“whoa. other worldy”
but then i heard a siren and realized that everyone was pulling over because a cop car was coming up. so i pulled over like the good citizen that i am, got an ear blast of too loud, and then continued on my drive back home.
loved to life
i’ve been flipping through “organic church” again, and the chapter about good soil still doesn’t sit well with me. the basic idea is invest your time on those who are good soil. all the other ones…..step away, they aren’t worth your time.
that really bothers me. how can we really say that someone is not worth investing into anymore? i was talking to a friend the other day about how some older kids from church weren’t responding exactly the way he would have liked. when i asked him about it, he shurgged it off and said “it’s about the younger generation anyway.”
really? that’s it? if they’re not responsive, move on.
i know that i don’t have this down. i’m the person who will beat a dead horse until i’ve killed myself beating that dead horse. but surely “just move on” can’t be the answer either. i used to be the hopeless cause, the emotional vaccum. and what helped me get out of it wasn’t me all of a sudden having an amazing revelation all on my own and then reaching out for help. it was a very select few that kept reaching out. eventually i broke out of it. some people now joke around with me about how much of a mess i used to be, and how “thank God you’re out of that phase.” but i know it wasn’t because i grew out of a phase. it was because of how the Lord would say “i love you” every morning i woke up, knowing full well i didn’t believe it. it was the Lord sending my friends over to come talk with me. i don’t remember any of the conversations i’ve had with them or any of the advice they gave. but i do remember opening the door and seeing them there. and i do remember seeing their names on my cell phone when they were calling.
since coming to IHOP–KC i have learned so so so much. and i’m so grateful for the opportunity to sit under all this teaching. but i do know that what saved be from death was how the Lord loved me to life. he just kept loving on me, and wouldn’t stop. He would not stop investing time and energy into me. i have a hard time giving in to the idea of “move on” because the Lord never did that with me. i do believe that some people’s hearts are in states where they are bad soil. but maybe it’s possible that persistent loving can break it up, producing good soil?