Stuck, Hobo Hunting, Faithfulness, and the Adventures of 23

"Sir, I'm serious.  I'm stuck."

"Oh! To my floor?"

"No, Sir."

"Then how?"

"Like as a person...  Remember when I was a little girl and I could play Rahmaninov's Second Piano Concerto and everyone was talking about my potential?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I am 23 now, and everyone is still talking about my potential, but if you ask me to play the song I know best... I'll still play Rahmaninov's Second."

- Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium

Stuck.  I'll admit, looking at my status in life at this current moment, it's tempting to believe I am so very stuck in the same place and as the same person I was last year.

I'm not faithful in many things, but I have faithfully kept a prayer journal this past year, and what a strange year it was!  Last year I spent my birthday in Lviv, Ukraine.  This year I spent it in a minivan, in the rain, searching for homeless people and ending up eating Mexican casserole with my family and a young man we met at Albertson's named Joshua.  

Who would've thought? 

Going through my journal, I'm easily discouraged by the person I hoped I would become by now.  I set such high and noble goals- live each day with intention, walk humbly, share the Gospel boldly, live in faith... and some lesser goals- move out, get a job with IJM, publish poetry, move to Ukraine, become an advocate against human trafficking, stop watching TV and wasting time on the internet, read a million books. 

Whelp.  So much for all that. 

But something much bigger than my failed attempts at epicness pushed through those journal pages.  I'm sure if I created a word cloud for last year, the largest part of the cloud would read, "GOD IS FAITHFUL."  Over, and over, and over, and over again, stories of God's faithfulness fill the spaces between my ambitious attempts at personal holiness.  Who cares that I am a failure? GOD IS FAITHFUL!  It's okay that I am not perfect, that I

waste time

get tired

that my faith wavers

I'm a fool

I'm not the smartest

I'm not the most talented

I don't know

I struggle

over and over and over again

that I hurt

I'm weak

I need people

I need

I'm shy

I sin

I'm not beautiful

I'm selfish

God has conquered all this!  NONE of this binds me or keeps me from Him!  And though I am not the person I hoped I would be, I am molding into the person God has created me to be.  And I trust His craftsmanship utterly and completely, more than I ever have before.  As Comrade wrote to me back in August, "No matter where He takes you or who you are ministering to, your ultimate purpose is always going to be displaying HIS love and HIS power to all you come in contact with.  Your circumstances, struggles, temptations may change, but His faithfulness will not.  Your purpose may look different, the methodology may change, but the ultimate goal will always be the same- glorifying Him by loving Him, by loving others, and by making Jesus beautiful!"  So I will holdfast to the anchor of my soul, rejoicing that I can walk in a manner worthy of the call, because the One who calls me is faithful, and He will surely do it!  My weaknesses prove His strength!  My ugliness proves His beauty!  Bring on 23!!!

The kindness of our God

So you know this joyless girl who's been whining about her problems over the past few blog posts?  Well, God took her on an impromptu trip to the shoreline for sunrise yesterday...

And then He told me this...

He will make me a joy... He hears my prayers.  He cares. and He is so generous with messed up me.

Rigid

Rigid.
That's the word someone used to describe me years ago.
He hoped it wouldn't offend me.  I took it as a compliment. at the time.

In case you haven't already figured this out (maybe I'm the only one who hadn't),
I am a wretched human being- selfish, arrogant, and unloving.  If I've ever served or loved anyone it was either a front to improve my image or a merciful gift from God.  I'm not saying this out of obligation.  I'm not compelled out of humility.  I'm relating a brutally honest self-realization.

Abigail means "the joy of her father."  I lost joy a long, long time ago, gradually.  As pride grew, joy withered.  You know that C.S. Lewis analogy of a heart locked in a box?  Yup.  I want to be perfect and  the farthest thing from vulnerable.  Nothing gets in the way of the person I present myself to be.
Whelp.  That doesn't fly with God.  And frankly, it's never caused me to fly either.  It's trapped me.

I want my heart to break for what breaks the heart of God.
I want His freedom.
I want to be His joy.



I am a great sinner, but He is a great Savior.
Hallelujah.

"So much of my life reminds me of something I read in a book once, when really, shouldn't it be the other way around?"

I admit.  Since graduation, I have undergone a dramatic and rather unsettling identity crisis.  While in the Keys last week, I thought being on and in and under and (fill in all remaining applicable prepositions) the ocean cured me of said crisis.  Wrong.

I was reading this beautifully crafted and well told memoir titled, The Hungry Ocean.  Linda, the only known female swordfishing captain, doubts whether or not she really lived the life she wanted.  She battles regret.  That last word, my friends, is one I am TERRIFIED of associating (even syntactically) with my life.  Years ago, I wrote a pathetic poem metaphorically describing life as a burden I was terrified of wasting.  The poem's long gone, but the fear isn't.  I couldn't bear looking back on my life and regretting how I spent it.  I've actually become overwhelmingly depressed at the thought of growing older, just because being older meant decisions would be behind me, not in front of me, and what if I regretted those decisions?  I want to die exhausted, every breath of my life intentionally and purposely spent.  Yes, life from this perspective IS a heavy, heavy burden.

So I finished the book and nearly went mad.

I'll spare you the gory details; let's just say total panic plus post-ocean depression ain't purdy.  I finally gave up in a sobbing, snotty mess on my way back to work.
God. help.
You have prospering plans for me, but I can't see them.
You are good, and you keep your promises; but I don't believe you.
In Your presence there is perfect peace, but what the heck is peace?!

What He told me was really so simple- it doesn't matter what I do with my life.  It only matters who I give my life to.  My life is the Lord's.  It's not my own.  I laid it down.  And it WILL be my ~overwhelming joy~ to say, "Your will.  Your way.  Always."

I could be a missionary in a foreign land and never get married- and NEVER regret my life.
I could be a stay-at-home mom with 7 kids and never leave the country again- and NEVER regret my life.
I could be a teacher- and NEVER regret my life.
I could work at Publix for the rest of my life- and NEVER regret it.
I could die tomorrow morning- and NEVER regret my life.

My life belongs to the Lord.  He will use it for His glory, and a life that glorifies Him can not possibly be wasted.