"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.

"Nobody could be that clever." "You could."

I'm not really a TV show person, but good gravy, Sherlock is just about the best thing I have ever witnessed via TV screen!  And season three doesn't come out until December... *sigh.*
What I love most about the series is the camaraderie between Sherlock and John.  I think comradeship, or brotherhood, is the purest, most valuable kind of relationship.  Maybe I have a skewed understanding of other relationships, or maybe I've seen Band of Brothers and read Henry V too many times, but it seems to me that comradeship is the highest form of relationship because it is selfless at it's core.  A comrade doesn't need anything from his friend, isn't looking to satisfy himself in his friend, doesn't want to take anything from his friend.  Comrades fight back-to-back for the sake of a cause that is more important than them.  They know each other so well because they are not trying to impress the other.  They are vulnerable to each other (standing back-to-back, their weakest points against each other) because it produces a greater chance of victory for the cause.  They've lived life together and know how the other reacts in many different circumstances.
Anyway, I digress.
I won't give away the whole plot, but at the end of the last episode, Sherlock is set up and everyone starts believing a lie about him, everyone except John.  Sherlock asks John if he is starting to doubt like everyone else.  John replies, "Not me.  I know you."

Why do I bring all this up?  I want my relationship with Jesus to be like that.  When all my circumstances make Jesus look like a liar, when I don't understand His Word, when my mind can't understand how Jesus could really be who He says He is, I want to look past all the confusion, lock eyes with Him, and say, "Not me.  I know You."

I want to know Him beyond my own understanding.  If fact, if I want to truly know Him at all, it has to be beyond my own understanding; there's no way my tiny mind can understand my infinite Lord.

Reminds me of "The Supreme Climb" in Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest-
The great lesson to be learned from Abraham’s faith in God is that he was prepared to do anything for God. He was there to obey God, no matter what contrary belief of his might be violated by his obedience. Abraham was not devoted to his own convictions or else he would have slain Isaac and said that the voice of the angel was actually the voice of the devil. That is the attitude of a fanatic. If you will remain true to God, God will lead you directly through every barrier and right into the inner chamber of the knowledge of Himself. But you must always be willing to come to the point of giving up your own convictions and traditional beliefs.

I want to be devoted to Christ, not to my own convictions.

"People are always saying that change is a good thing..."

"It should be so exciting, to be out in the world, to be free!  My heart should be wildly rejoicing... Oh what's the matter with me?"
Today I graduated from Rollins with a BA degree.  I should be thrilled.  I am thrilled.  But, I'm also (pathetic and nerdish as it may be) heartbroken.  I hate change.  I've always hated it.  I know God has many beautiful things ahead, but right now, I only want to focus on the loss.  I've spent 5 difficult, glorious years at Rollins, especially this past semester.  I'm a learner at heart and love overcoming challenges and working through deep concepts.  I've identified myself as a student my whole life... now what?  God knows, and I do completely trust Him in that.  But it's still hard for me to face change.  I feel like I did when we moved from our old house.  We were moving to a bigger, more beautiful house and I wouldn't have to share a room anymore, but the actual move tore me up.  Grabbing hold of one thing means letting go of another.  It's the same problem I had with growing up.  Sure I could drive a car, but I couldn't enjoy carousels.  That bothered me so much.  I don't know why.  I'm just silly like that.

John 12:28

A little sparkle of revelation:
God's glory is ultimately in His hands.

I admit, I've been embarrassed for God.  Every time we prayed for Uncle Doug's healing and nothing happened, I felt shame.  "God!  This is Your moment.  Why do you allow my family to believe You don't answer prayer?"  Of course, I wanted God to heal my uncle, I wanted to be angry at Him for letting Uncle Doug suffer, but that's a different story.  It was in God's best interest to physically save my uncle, right?  It was God's moment to prove His love and power and glorify His name....

Today I remembered John 12:28-
“I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.”

I am not burdened with the responsibility of God's glory.  Only He can glorify Himself as He deserves; I get to play a part, but need never be ashamed of the way God chooses to reveal His glory.

I realized this today, and it brought me great comfort.  God will not allow His name to be defiled, and I can trust Him in that.

Bitterness

Well, I thought I'd been through this already.  I had (here's proof:  http://www.behindthepurpleprose.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-do-understand-i-know-now.html  ), but not fully.

I've been reading through Isaiah the past few months, and today I finished.  Isaiah 66:9 is a well read verse in my Bible, but the truth hasn't yet taken hold of me, still.  I've let bitterness well up inside of my heart like a pool of poison.  I've played the victim and denied the life and joy God gave to me.

"Shall I bring to the point of birth and not cause to bring forth?
says the Lord;
Shall I, who cause to bring forth, shut the womb?
says your God." 


God brings life, not death, from our pain.  But I didn't, and sometimes still don't, trust His promise.  I was like a pregnant woman expecting a miscarriage.  I didn't go shopping for baby clothes, dream of what name I would give my child, count down the days until my little one would be born, grab someone's hand excitedly and place it on my belly when I felt the baby kick... when I was ill with morning sickness, exhausted, in pain, I suffered without hope or anticipating joy.  It would all amount to nothing.  What was the point?  Nothing would come from my pain but death.

I've called God a liar.  But God does not lie.  He does not bring me through the pain of labor for nothing.  Life is growing within me, God will birth new life from me.  He will not shut the womb.

This changes everything.  In hope I can suffer and yet rejoice because the pain means new life is coming.    My God does not let me suffer for nothing.  He is not cruel.  He speaks tenderly to me.  He restores my soul.  He has given me a beautiful inheritance.  He deals bountifully with me.

Hallelujah.

Grace Active

Lord Jesus, Great High Priest,
Thou hast opened a new and living way
  by which a fallen creature can approach thee with acceptance.
Help me to contemplate the dignity of thy Person,
                                                     the perfectness of thy sacrifice,
                                                     the effectiveness of thy intercession.
O what blessedness accompanies devotion,
  when under all the trials that weary me,
                               the cares that corrode me,
                               the fears that disturb me,
                               the infirmities that oppress me,
**I can come to thee in my need
and feel peace beyond understanding!**
The grace that restores is necessary to preserve,
       lead, guard, supply, help me.
And here thy saints encourage my hope;
   they were once [poor] and are now rich,
                           [bound] and are now free,
                           [tried] and are now victorious.
Every new duty call for more grace than I now possess,
    but NOT more than is found in thee, the divine treasury
    in whom all (fullness) dwells.
To THEE I repair for grace upon grace,
    until every void made by sin be replenished
    and I am (filled) with all thy (fullness.)
May my desires be enlarged and my hopes emboldened,
    that I may honour thee by my *entire* dependency
    and the greatness of my expectation.
Do thou be with me, and prepare me for all
     the smiles of prosperity, the frowns of adversity,
     the losses of substance, the death of friends,
     the days of darkness, the changes of life,
     and the last great change of all.
May I find grace sufficient for all my needs.

                                                                     -The Valley of Vision

I love how articulate the Puritans were.

Higher Thoughts

Are you a stargazer?  Not a "likes long walks on the beach" kind, star-crossed and all kinds of melodramatic.  But one who is familiar with the stars, who seeks certain orbs in certain seasons, who knows the bright one's name, who looks hard enough to see their facets of blue and yellow, who stares long enough to see them move and breathe and know the earth has shifted, who covers the glittering one with her thumb and tries to count the gazillion thumbs it would take in light years just to touch its burning surface, who is both afraid and comforted by feeling speck-like small in their inky space, who, hours after lying in the grass, stumbles when she finally stands, adjusting dimensions from light years back to feet and inches, breathing larger breaths.
     Remembering my God created all this wonderment helps me put life in perspective.  The Creator of the universe, who knows all the stars by name, stars I will never see or even know exist, is in control of situations in which I feel utterly helpless and alone.  Charlotte Bronte describes this so well...
     "We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel his presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence.  I had risen to my knees to pray for ___.  Looking up, I, with tear-dimmed eyes, saw the mighty Milky Way.  Remembering what it was- what countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light- I felt the might and strength of God.  Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made.  I turned my prayer into thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Savior of spirits.  ___ was safe: __ was God's, and by God would __ be guarded."

Hallelujah.