Life doesn't go the way you plan it.
It seems like such a simple sentence. It's trite and cliche. It's something that we all know. Yet it's something that causes life's deepest pains. It's the thing that creates the heartwrenching questions of God's goodness and sovereignty. It's what causes a person to lose hope. It confuses us and shifts the paradigm of all we knew to be true until ______ happened.
Dr. Larry Crabb taught me something profound about a year ago. He taught me that we expect linearity in life. A+B=C. There are consequences to actions. It's sort of like the Buddhist idea of kharma - give good, get good. But life doesn't really work that way. I mean, I guess it does enough that we all learn to expect it. But inevitably, we get something that doesn't equal all the As+Bs we've done in life. Suddenly we realize that this isn't what we bargained for, isn't what we were promised. I have been struck by this over and over again in the few short months I've been seeing clients. But I can't talk about them. So I guess I have to talk about me.
I've experienced painful things in my life. I'm sure it's pretty trivial in the grand scheme of things. But recently, I had one of those rug out from under you experiences where it seems like everything is adding up to something beautiful, like you're being given a gift you didn't even ask for, and then the world is upside down and you realize the gift box is empty. And meanwhile, you're suspended in mid-air, still dizzy from the way everything changed so quickly. I say all this to say that this experience caused such dissonance in my head that you would have thought it was a much worse experience than what actually happened. And it was all because I couldn't make sense of it. I couldn't see the good being worked from the pain. I still don't, really. It would be so much easier for me to write this if I did. I've been through much more painful things with much more patience and faith, because I could see purpose for my pain in them. I was able to have a choice in the matter - between protecting myself and experiencing pain so that someone else might know the tiniest piece of the love of Christ. But this was different. I didn't see how God was working. I didn't have a choice. I felt tricked and exploited. And it didn't feel worth it.
I guess I'm writing this, feeling like I'm saying nothing, for precisely that reason. Although it's in the tiniest of situations for me, I can see how the bait-and-switch of life causes the most pain for those I sit with. I think that pain can be endured so gracefully and beautifully when we can see the poetry being written from it. But how do we live in the moments that seem completely nonsensical? What of the times when there is no beauty seen? When there seems to be no point? When the idea of hoping in a God who would play such cruel tricks is infuriating? When everything you knew about the world no longer adds up?
I've been learning lately that hope is intrinsicly painful. To hope means to acknowledge that the present is less than what it ought to be, less than what it is you hope for. Yet I think it is the only thing that brings any chance of joy. I pray that we can dare to hope tonight - embrace the longing that is a part of every soul in this world (for we were created for another world altogether) and know that there is reason and rhyme in every line of this lifesong, no matter how dissonant some of the notes may seem.
"Life is not what I thought it was 24 hours ago,
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with you,
And I'm not who I thought I was 24 hours ago,
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with you."
~ Switchfoot, Twenty-four
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The 9th Thing I Love.
# 9 - Long conversations with strangers. Preferably in coffee shops.
“We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody; beautiful, the mess we are; the honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah.” ~ Amy Grant
I’ve had some incredible God moments the last few days. Maybe he’s trying to encourage me and show me that he’s with me as I delve into the depths of oft-uncomfortable self-awareness. Maybe he’s helping me learn who I am in him, so that I can better accept and face my mistakes, allowing me some freedom from the burden of my attempts at perfectionism. Maybe he’s teaching me how to offer myself some of the mercy that I tend to reserve for others. Or maybe he’s simply loving me - something that I can sadly forget in my efforts to serve him and love others. Regardless, I found myself stunned by a (warning, churchy phrase ahead) divine appointment today.
I was sitting in a coffee shop, reading a book for school and taking a break from transcribing my first "therapy" session. Although I wasn’t disheartened or even embarrassed by the recording, there were myriad things that I could have done better. Anyway, back to the coffee shop. I was packing up my things when I noticed an older man sitting near me. It was apparent to me that he had something heavy weighing on his mind, and I wondered if I should ask if he was okay. I kept watching him, and kept feeling that nudge in my heart to speak to him. I took my headphones out and caught his eye. Then I asked, “Waiting on someone?” It was an innocent way into conversation if he wanted to be engaged, and my hunch (AKA that kicking sensation the Holy Spirit uses sometimes) was right. This was a man who needed to talk. After a few moments of his story spilling out, he looked at me squarely and asked me, “Are you a Christian counselor?” I hadn’t spoken another word since my initial question to him. I was startled, but gave him the two sentence version of where I am in my life and where I plan to go. He nodded as if he already knew, and said, “I could just tell.” He continued to talk for about 30 minutes.
God used this stranger to remind me that, although I will make mistakes, he has called me to this profession and ministry. Though I may at times feel foolish, and though my errors may seem destructive or the skills may seem daunting, God has given me the ability to do that to which I have been called. I humbly give him my errors, and he beautifully weaves them with his grace and mercy into a tapestry of healing and wholeness. The picture will not be complete this side of heaven - for me, or for my clients. But if perhaps I can stay close to him, pressing into his chest and hearing his heart beat within me, I can catch glimpses of his artistry here on this earth. He is weaving it all together regardless of my participation or lack thereof. But I am so thankful that he allows my hand to rest on his from time to time, and my eyes to see what it is that he is making, if only in glimpses and snatches, as he pulls the beauty from our ashes.
“We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody; beautiful, the mess we are; the honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah.” ~ Amy Grant
I’ve had some incredible God moments the last few days. Maybe he’s trying to encourage me and show me that he’s with me as I delve into the depths of oft-uncomfortable self-awareness. Maybe he’s helping me learn who I am in him, so that I can better accept and face my mistakes, allowing me some freedom from the burden of my attempts at perfectionism. Maybe he’s teaching me how to offer myself some of the mercy that I tend to reserve for others. Or maybe he’s simply loving me - something that I can sadly forget in my efforts to serve him and love others. Regardless, I found myself stunned by a (warning, churchy phrase ahead) divine appointment today.
I was sitting in a coffee shop, reading a book for school and taking a break from transcribing my first "therapy" session. Although I wasn’t disheartened or even embarrassed by the recording, there were myriad things that I could have done better. Anyway, back to the coffee shop. I was packing up my things when I noticed an older man sitting near me. It was apparent to me that he had something heavy weighing on his mind, and I wondered if I should ask if he was okay. I kept watching him, and kept feeling that nudge in my heart to speak to him. I took my headphones out and caught his eye. Then I asked, “Waiting on someone?” It was an innocent way into conversation if he wanted to be engaged, and my hunch (AKA that kicking sensation the Holy Spirit uses sometimes) was right. This was a man who needed to talk. After a few moments of his story spilling out, he looked at me squarely and asked me, “Are you a Christian counselor?” I hadn’t spoken another word since my initial question to him. I was startled, but gave him the two sentence version of where I am in my life and where I plan to go. He nodded as if he already knew, and said, “I could just tell.” He continued to talk for about 30 minutes.
God used this stranger to remind me that, although I will make mistakes, he has called me to this profession and ministry. Though I may at times feel foolish, and though my errors may seem destructive or the skills may seem daunting, God has given me the ability to do that to which I have been called. I humbly give him my errors, and he beautifully weaves them with his grace and mercy into a tapestry of healing and wholeness. The picture will not be complete this side of heaven - for me, or for my clients. But if perhaps I can stay close to him, pressing into his chest and hearing his heart beat within me, I can catch glimpses of his artistry here on this earth. He is weaving it all together regardless of my participation or lack thereof. But I am so thankful that he allows my hand to rest on his from time to time, and my eyes to see what it is that he is making, if only in glimpses and snatches, as he pulls the beauty from our ashes.
Monday, February 15, 2010
The 10th Thing I Love.
#10 - Lent.
I know it's a weird thing to love, but growing up in the protestant evangelical tradition, we didn't see a lot of emphasis placed on Lent. So it's a relatively new experience for me. The last several years, God has allowed me to have the most incredible, life-changing growth experiences during Lent. I know for a lot of people it's a pretty legalistic concept. But for me, it has transformed the relationship in which I live, breathe, and love.
I won't pretend to be an expert, because I'm far from one. In fact, a man named Buddy Odom helped me realize the richness of Lent's ancient tradition. You can find out more about him and his ministry here. In the meantime, here are a couple of things I've found helpful in my own 40 day annual journey.
First, if you give up something legalistic for Lent, it can end up being a pretty legalistic experience. Give up something that is meaningful, and pray about what you should give up before you do it. God will nudge your heart and let you know what might be interfering in your relationship with him.
Second, don't be afraid to give up NOT doing something. If there's a new habit you want to get into in your relationship with God, a 40 day commitment is a great way to jump start it.
Third, make sure that the thing you give up is something that is relevant to your relationship with God. For me, those are often things that allow me a pretense of control, or even coping mechanisms that keep me from taking my burdens to the feet of my loving Father.
Fourth, don't beat yourself up if you aren't perfect. Set up clear parameters and guidelines, but give yourself some grace. Remember, the one you're doing this for is all about grace, love, and mercy. :-)
Fifth, pray. If you struggle with what that means or think you need a formula to be able to pray, I encourage you to read Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? by Philip Yancey. (I'll spoil the ending for you. You don't need a formula.) If you give up something that leaves you desperate, you'll suddenly find that you are praying more than you ever have, and probably in ways you never have. And that's okay. :-)
"For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." Hosea 6:6
I know it's a weird thing to love, but growing up in the protestant evangelical tradition, we didn't see a lot of emphasis placed on Lent. So it's a relatively new experience for me. The last several years, God has allowed me to have the most incredible, life-changing growth experiences during Lent. I know for a lot of people it's a pretty legalistic concept. But for me, it has transformed the relationship in which I live, breathe, and love.
I won't pretend to be an expert, because I'm far from one. In fact, a man named Buddy Odom helped me realize the richness of Lent's ancient tradition. You can find out more about him and his ministry here. In the meantime, here are a couple of things I've found helpful in my own 40 day annual journey.
First, if you give up something legalistic for Lent, it can end up being a pretty legalistic experience. Give up something that is meaningful, and pray about what you should give up before you do it. God will nudge your heart and let you know what might be interfering in your relationship with him.
Second, don't be afraid to give up NOT doing something. If there's a new habit you want to get into in your relationship with God, a 40 day commitment is a great way to jump start it.
Third, make sure that the thing you give up is something that is relevant to your relationship with God. For me, those are often things that allow me a pretense of control, or even coping mechanisms that keep me from taking my burdens to the feet of my loving Father.
Fourth, don't beat yourself up if you aren't perfect. Set up clear parameters and guidelines, but give yourself some grace. Remember, the one you're doing this for is all about grace, love, and mercy. :-)
Fifth, pray. If you struggle with what that means or think you need a formula to be able to pray, I encourage you to read Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? by Philip Yancey. (I'll spoil the ending for you. You don't need a formula.) If you give up something that leaves you desperate, you'll suddenly find that you are praying more than you ever have, and probably in ways you never have. And that's okay. :-)
"For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." Hosea 6:6
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The 11th Thing I Love.
#11 - Macs.
That's right. I'm no longer impartial. I'm not Switzerland, and I have an opinion on this issue that I am ready to voice. I have switched from the sidelines into the battle, and I'm jumping in on the Mac side. I was getting peripheral fire anyway, so I thought I might as well at least start defending myself. What did me in? Well, first of all, using one! I used PCs my whole life, then a job bought me a MacBook and I used it for a year. When it came time to buy my own computer, Mac was the only idea in my head. I didn't really consider a PC. But I still didn't think I was in the fight. It was when my computer crashed and people started taking shots at me instead of expressing sympathy at my lost data that I realized I needed to formulate my opinion and be ready to stand on it, because I was considered a part of the battle whether I wanted to be or not. That is when I became a Mac person. (Oh... And when they gave me a free iPod touch. That really helped their cause, too.)
But hasn't your hard drive crashed twice in two months, you ask? Why yes, yes it has. Well, 1.5 times actually. And if I can go through all this hassle and still love my computer at the end of the day (and the company that sold it to me), I think that's true love. Don't you wish you were in love with your computer? You do? I have a simple solution for you, my friend. Buy a Mac. Even if you don't like who it is on the inside, you've got to admit... it's a hottie! :-)
That's right. I'm no longer impartial. I'm not Switzerland, and I have an opinion on this issue that I am ready to voice. I have switched from the sidelines into the battle, and I'm jumping in on the Mac side. I was getting peripheral fire anyway, so I thought I might as well at least start defending myself. What did me in? Well, first of all, using one! I used PCs my whole life, then a job bought me a MacBook and I used it for a year. When it came time to buy my own computer, Mac was the only idea in my head. I didn't really consider a PC. But I still didn't think I was in the fight. It was when my computer crashed and people started taking shots at me instead of expressing sympathy at my lost data that I realized I needed to formulate my opinion and be ready to stand on it, because I was considered a part of the battle whether I wanted to be or not. That is when I became a Mac person. (Oh... And when they gave me a free iPod touch. That really helped their cause, too.)
But hasn't your hard drive crashed twice in two months, you ask? Why yes, yes it has. Well, 1.5 times actually. And if I can go through all this hassle and still love my computer at the end of the day (and the company that sold it to me), I think that's true love. Don't you wish you were in love with your computer? You do? I have a simple solution for you, my friend. Buy a Mac. Even if you don't like who it is on the inside, you've got to admit... it's a hottie! :-)
Friday, July 24, 2009
Insights from Pinocchio.
I watched Pinocchio with a three year old tonight, and I had a profound revelation. (Only me, right? ha ha) It was at the part where Pinocchio and his father are trying to escape from the whale. Pretty scary stuff when you're three. She came and jumped into my lap, saying, "It's scary! It's scary! I'm done with this movie." I leaned down and said in my most reassuring tone, "Hey, don't worry. It's going to be okay." She looked up into my eyes, fear evident in her sweet face, and said, "But how do you know?" The answer that came out of my mouth stunned me. "Because I know the end of the story. I know it seems scary right now, and in a minute, it's going to seem very sad. But I promise, it's all going to be okay."
As the words passed from me to her, I knew that they were truly passing from God to me. So many times in our lives, everything at hand says this is scary. All we can see is the terror of this moment, and we can become consumed by fear as we face insurmountable "whales" in our own lives. Sometimes we even want to just turn this movie off and be done. But God knows the end of the story! And he has promised that it's all going to be okay. (See Romans 8:28 if you don't believe me.)
Pinocchio and his father escape the whale, but Pinocchio drowns. His father kneels at the end of the bed, crying, believing that nothing will bring back his precious son. This is the worst thing that could have happened. But then... his son is restored! And better than that, he has been transformed from a simple wooden puppet into "real boy." God can answer our prayers in ways that are so much better than we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). It may not be the answer we hoped for, but in the hands of God, redemption, restoration, and true healing are possible. So please, my friend, don't get lost in the fear or sadness of the moment. (And don't let me get lost in it either!) For something so much better is coming. There is hope. God will prevail, and he has a plan for you. He can restore your heart and bring healing to your story. Just trust him. After all, he knows the end of the story. :-)
As the words passed from me to her, I knew that they were truly passing from God to me. So many times in our lives, everything at hand says this is scary. All we can see is the terror of this moment, and we can become consumed by fear as we face insurmountable "whales" in our own lives. Sometimes we even want to just turn this movie off and be done. But God knows the end of the story! And he has promised that it's all going to be okay. (See Romans 8:28 if you don't believe me.)
Pinocchio and his father escape the whale, but Pinocchio drowns. His father kneels at the end of the bed, crying, believing that nothing will bring back his precious son. This is the worst thing that could have happened. But then... his son is restored! And better than that, he has been transformed from a simple wooden puppet into "real boy." God can answer our prayers in ways that are so much better than we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). It may not be the answer we hoped for, but in the hands of God, redemption, restoration, and true healing are possible. So please, my friend, don't get lost in the fear or sadness of the moment. (And don't let me get lost in it either!) For something so much better is coming. There is hope. God will prevail, and he has a plan for you. He can restore your heart and bring healing to your story. Just trust him. After all, he knows the end of the story. :-)
Friday, June 26, 2009
Michael Jackson.
I sat stunned yesterday as I read my friend DJ's Facebook status saying that the King of Pop had died. It was the kind of event that made me want to call the people I love and make sure they knew. I watched hours of coverage on television and kept refreshing Facebook and Twitter to see if I'd missed any information. I'm not really sure why. Don't get me wrong. The man was a musical genius and a revolutionary icon of pop culture. I loved his music as much as the next person who wasn't alive (or at least wasn't musically cognizant) for most of his best stuff.
Maybe I was stunned because Michael Jackson is a universally shared experience. Maybe I was sobered because his death came so unexpectedly (anyone else thinking of the preacher in Pollyanna right now?). Maybe my emotions were linked to the fact that the first song I ever slow danced to was "You are Not Alone," or because I danced it with a guy I never saw again.
But I think I was mostly sad because this man was miserable. He seemed so torn, so confused. Many people posted comments online that I considered to be rude and inappropriate. Just because people do horribly sinful things does not mean that they don't deserve love, respect, and forgiveness. If anyone needed peace, it was this man. You could see it in his face. He longed for peace of mind, relief from pain. I wish I could have told him that true peace really was available. I hope and pray that he found it in the moments before he passed.
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." ~ Philippians 4:6-8
Is anyone out there? I pray that you find peace tonight.
**Update**
A friend posted this comment on another site, and I wanted to include this dialogue, just in case anyone else misunderstood my point of view on this...
"Did you not have an problem with the kids? I remember doing my freshman research paper on the issue."
You mean did I not have a problem with what he did to the kids? Of course! I think it was horrendous, and it is a truly disturbed person that will hurt a child. But even truly disturbed people are still people, and everyone needs forgiveness, love, and a certain degree of respect, no matter what they have done. God's love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8). So I guess my point was that no matter how much wrong he did (or how much genius he left on the worlds of music and dance), he was a miserable man and I hope he found forgiveness and peace in the end, even though there is no evidence to that effect. I hope that explains my position a little better. Anyone that knows me hopefully knows that I believe in the rights of the weak and vulnerable more passionately than almost anything else.
Maybe I was stunned because Michael Jackson is a universally shared experience. Maybe I was sobered because his death came so unexpectedly (anyone else thinking of the preacher in Pollyanna right now?). Maybe my emotions were linked to the fact that the first song I ever slow danced to was "You are Not Alone," or because I danced it with a guy I never saw again.
But I think I was mostly sad because this man was miserable. He seemed so torn, so confused. Many people posted comments online that I considered to be rude and inappropriate. Just because people do horribly sinful things does not mean that they don't deserve love, respect, and forgiveness. If anyone needed peace, it was this man. You could see it in his face. He longed for peace of mind, relief from pain. I wish I could have told him that true peace really was available. I hope and pray that he found it in the moments before he passed.
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." ~ Philippians 4:6-8
Is anyone out there? I pray that you find peace tonight.
**Update**
A friend posted this comment on another site, and I wanted to include this dialogue, just in case anyone else misunderstood my point of view on this...
"Did you not have an problem with the kids? I remember doing my freshman research paper on the issue."
You mean did I not have a problem with what he did to the kids? Of course! I think it was horrendous, and it is a truly disturbed person that will hurt a child. But even truly disturbed people are still people, and everyone needs forgiveness, love, and a certain degree of respect, no matter what they have done. God's love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8). So I guess my point was that no matter how much wrong he did (or how much genius he left on the worlds of music and dance), he was a miserable man and I hope he found forgiveness and peace in the end, even though there is no evidence to that effect. I hope that explains my position a little better. Anyone that knows me hopefully knows that I believe in the rights of the weak and vulnerable more passionately than almost anything else.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The 12th Thing I Love.
#12 - Kids.
I love children. I keep expecting myself to get to a point where they drain me or where I'm ready to give them back to their parents. But it has yet to come! I'm currently trying to make a career out of babysitting and nannying so that I can go to school this fall.
For those who may not know, I very recently lost my job at the missions organization where I've been working for the past year. They needed someone full time, and because of my decision to go to graduate school, I wasn't able to continue on more than a part time basis. So as I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to do, I have been trying to fill up all my time with hanging out with kids. Not just because I need the money (oh, how I need the money!). But when I'm caring for children, I feel connected to the world in such a unique way. I love seeing little snippets of their personalities and imagining the way that God will shape and form them into people that love him and serve him their whole lives. I love the innocence and excitement that governs all their decisions, and I love to watch revelations wash over their little faces. I love the way they do not hesitate to turn to others when something goes wrong in their lives, unabashedly asking for love and comfort and receiving it wholeheartedly. I love holding the tiny ones, rocking them, watching them fall asleep or laughing when they fight the inevitable yawns and heavy-lidded sighs.
I'm fully aware that mommies don't get to just hang out with their kids all day. There are chores to be done and so many stresses. That's why I love babysitting. I get to simply enjoy these beautiful hearts, putting my own stresses and worries aside, spoiling them with love and attention. I told my sister that I can't believe that I get to hang out with children, rock babies, and get loved on all day, while without fail picking up some new insight into how we as children relate to our Father.
So if you've ever let me watch your children, I'd just like to say thank you for the many blessings they have heaped upon my heart. And if you ever need someone to watch your children, I'd love to!
I love children. I keep expecting myself to get to a point where they drain me or where I'm ready to give them back to their parents. But it has yet to come! I'm currently trying to make a career out of babysitting and nannying so that I can go to school this fall.
For those who may not know, I very recently lost my job at the missions organization where I've been working for the past year. They needed someone full time, and because of my decision to go to graduate school, I wasn't able to continue on more than a part time basis. So as I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to do, I have been trying to fill up all my time with hanging out with kids. Not just because I need the money (oh, how I need the money!). But when I'm caring for children, I feel connected to the world in such a unique way. I love seeing little snippets of their personalities and imagining the way that God will shape and form them into people that love him and serve him their whole lives. I love the innocence and excitement that governs all their decisions, and I love to watch revelations wash over their little faces. I love the way they do not hesitate to turn to others when something goes wrong in their lives, unabashedly asking for love and comfort and receiving it wholeheartedly. I love holding the tiny ones, rocking them, watching them fall asleep or laughing when they fight the inevitable yawns and heavy-lidded sighs.
I'm fully aware that mommies don't get to just hang out with their kids all day. There are chores to be done and so many stresses. That's why I love babysitting. I get to simply enjoy these beautiful hearts, putting my own stresses and worries aside, spoiling them with love and attention. I told my sister that I can't believe that I get to hang out with children, rock babies, and get loved on all day, while without fail picking up some new insight into how we as children relate to our Father.
So if you've ever let me watch your children, I'd just like to say thank you for the many blessings they have heaped upon my heart. And if you ever need someone to watch your children, I'd love to!
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