Archive | January 2012

On the subject of “going”

I first came across this amazing young woman’s blog a year or two ago, before her book, Kisses from Katie, was even published, and was so inspired and moved by her story, and how God was using her in Africa, that I would cry out to God, why can’t I be her? Why am I stuck here? I want, simply, to GO.

I posted an entry nearly three years ago (I can hardly believe it was that long ago—seems like yesterday) along a similar vein to what I’m about to share, titled, appropriately enough, “Go,” in which I used another video featuring another amazing woman of God, as a springboard for pouring out my desire and conviction on serving the “least of these” in other parts of the world.

That desire has not gone away. In fact, over the last several months, it has increased. Exponentially. To the point where I can no longer ignore it, and to the point where I feel it’s almost necessary I go.

I feel I am at an important crossroads in my life. An important crossroads in my walk with God. I used to think, God, I can never go, never be used by you, because I’m so screwed up. I’m not “normal” like Katie, or Jackie Pullinger—I’m definitely one of God’s “crippled ones.” One of the “least” myself. One of His weak and foolish ones. I’ve about given up trying to fit in with “normal” Christians, in “normal” churches. The more I sit in church the more I feel uncomfortable sitting there. I used to think it was just me. But now I think perhaps it’s not just me. Maybe what qualifies as a “normal” American Christian church is about as far from normal as it’s supposed to be, at least Biblically. And maybe I’m trying too hard to fit into a place I was never meant to fit in. Because if a broken person like me doesn’t feel comfortable in most American Christian churches, but feels comfortable with other broken people, with those who are considered the “least” by the world, then maybe being with the “least” is where I’m meant to be.

So, even though I love being a student, and still want to pursue a degree, the idea of spending the next few years of my life wrapped up in acadamia here in the US has grown less and less appealing, and the idea of simply letting go of everything I hold dear, leaving this materialistic culture, and going to serve and live with the poor in some other part of the world has grown more and more attractive. I’m hating more and more the person I’m becoming, as addicted to “stuff,” clothing, possessions, status, etc., as any ordinary, unsaved American beside me. And Jesus keeps whispering to me—as He has been for some time, only more loudly it seems now—”Let go.” Because following Him means being willing to give everything up for Him. And I’m devastated to see just how like the culture around me I’ve become, and how I’ve lost sight of eternal things, and what’s most important to His heart. And I also am beginning to wonder if the answer to all my “issues” is not years of more counseling, deliverances, etc. (none of which have helped me long-term anyway), but simply heeding God’s call, and going to where the truly broken and outcast are, so that my own problems are put into perspective. Living here in the US it’s simply too easy to become self-focused and complacent.

So I don’t know exactly what this means for me. I still desire to pursue the whole linguistics thing, and maybe still eventually serve with Wycliffe, but right now I feel as if He’s pointing me in another direction—maybe just for a season, maybe more long term, I’m really not sure at this point. I’m just asking Him, when, where, how? After this semester ends, I have no plans. Just a question mark I’m praying God will answer. I will have little to no debt, no obligations here, no attachments, nothing to hinder me (except for money—but I’m learning that when you’re in God’s will, even that’s not an issue) from simply going wherever He wants me to go.

Because I’m beginning to believe that it’s in the going that the healing comes. My most treasured, joyful experiences in life have been the ones where I was with the poor and needy in other countries, where self was forgotten, and the love of God filled my heart. I want to learn again what it means to be “poor in spirit,” to see the world not through these jaded, materialistic, superficial, American eyes, but through the eyes of the Spirit, which see not as man sees, but as God sees. In which the outcasts, rejects, and broken ones that the world overlooks—that even many in the church overlook—are precious and valuable.

Maybe I’m all wrong about this. There’s the possibility I’m not hearing God in this. But if I’m not, I sure hope He slams the door in my face. Because I don’t know for what other purpose these strong convictions and desires exist in my heart, and why they’ve been growing only stronger in recent months.

As Katie says in the video, Jesus does not ask that we care for the less fortunate—-He demands it. And I hear Him, more and more, demanding I care for the least, demanding my sacrifice, my obedience, and my surrender, no matter where it takes me. And though my flesh may resist, ultimately I know that what He says is true: those who seek to save their lives will lose them; those who lose their lives will find them.

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” ~Jim Elliot

Some random midnight musings…

Hello again, old blog.

I almost forgot this thing existed. But after consuming far too much caffeine (something I shouldn’t be consuming in the first place), I’m sitting here wide awake in my bed at nearly midnight, when I have to get up in about five hours or so.

So, I felt like writing. It’s been a while. Wow. It’s another year. How did that happen? A lot has taken place since my last few entries. Some good stuff, but also some bad.

Good stuff: I’m officially a full-time student now. I just started my second semester at the community college. Last semester went really well. I finished with a 4.0 GPA. I discovered that, yes, school definitely suits me. Though the community college atmosphere itself I don’t particularly care for, I love learning, I love being in a classroom, and I love being challenged. I liked most of my professors, though my favorite was the geology professor (geology was also my favorite class). Despite feeling a bit awkward at first trying to navigate the whole social aspect of school, I managed, and I actually met some lovely people. I discovered I’m not as bad at public speaking as I thought. I passed my public speaking class with flying colors (though I have to admit my teacher was a softie, so I’m not sure how much that says about my skills), and now, strangely enough, don’t fear standing in front of people and talking nearly as much as I used to. I also surprised myself in discovering how much I enjoy speaking up and actually participating in class. Yes, little, shy, quiet me! I’m not the “talker,” by any means, but I’m not afraid to open my mouth when I feel I have an answer.

So I think school has definitely been good for me. It’s given me more confidence in certain areas, which I needed.

But then there’s the bad stuff. Job, church…all that other stuff didn’t work out for me. I basically bolted. Then regressed. Fell back into my same old issues. I simply got scared when things started going so well for me, and I did what I always do when things seem too good to be true: I run. I stopped going to church for a few months. My relationship with God suffered. It’s still suffering, though I’m trying to get things back on track. I’ve alienated most of the few friends I have. I’ve become more and more reclusive. Which frightens me. And which I’m doing my best to fight. I did step out of my comfort zone a little bit for a few months by volunteering as an ESL teacher for a local charity. And I actually really enjoyed it, and totally fell in love with most of my students, many of whom were refugees. The children stole my heart in particular. But I recently ended that stint, mainly because it conflicted too much with school priorities—and, now, a new job as well. Yes, I did get another job, but it’s extremely part-time, so I make very little money.

So I’m not out of my valley yet. But this time around, I know it’s self-inflicted. I’m still here because I choose to be. Because freedom scares the h*** out of me. And until I deal with that fear, until I choose to believe the truth and not the lies, until I choose to put the past behind me, instead of letting it continue to taunt and torment me, I will never become the woman God wants me to be, and the woman I want to be.

God is still pursuing me. He hasn’t given up on me, even though I’ve almost given up on myself. He’s particularly pressing me in a few specific areas though, which perhaps I’ll share in another entry.

The caffeine is finally wearing off. Eyelids are getting heavy, so it is time for me to end, before I fall asleep at the keyboard….