Interruption

I'm applying for a mission trip program with my campus fellowship group to go to Nicaragua. The application asks for a written testimony. It took me a few days, but this is exactly it. I thought about deleting things, but this is my story. This is God in action.
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            Although I was raised in Roman Catholic household and grew up with a great sense of faith in my childhood years, that sentiment began to lose standing, as I grew older. We became the twice a year Christians attending church on Christmas and Easter with scattered donations throughout the year. Faith became a fallen phenomenon at home and I assumed that I was meant to go along with the trend. Throughout the early years of middle school I continued straying from God and the plans that He had set in my life. I became distant from God and failed to look for an accurate reason for such abandonment; I continued being selfish and turning my back to God’s grace entirely. Destruction seemed to feel better than redemption.

            My best friend died at the age of ten from a pre-existing medical condition; his death rattled me to the core and made me question myself for years to come. It was then that I actually became angry with God while being thoroughly disappointed in myself as an individual of the world. Seventh grade was the moment that I locked God away, swallowed the key, turned out the light, and tried to make sense of the pain for myself. The journey became a time where I didn’t think God wanted me to be a member of His kingdom and instead of fighting for a place, instead of reaching out to Him and asking for answers, I fell to temptation and low self- esteem.

Shortly after Michael died, I began to self-harm. The dangers of such behavior became my safe harbor from the pain of Michael’s death and the grief that tended to overtake my heart. Instead of talking and processing my feelings I spent 8-12^th grade and some of college, taking it out on my body. With each moment of weakness I could feel Satan on one side calling my name, telling me this was usual, and Jesus on the other awaiting my return to His strong pillars. Instead of running to the presence of His grace I continued down the road of despair, of physical and psychological pain; a path of vulnerability I wish no one to endure.  At that point my life it felt as though all the lights had been turned off and I wasn’t even given a flashlight to peek. In reality, God was at the watchtower the whole time.  It’s taken a few trials and tribulations within the past year of my life with the people around me to know that God has been on my side forever.

This Spring I attended a local church with one of my best friends at college. Upon walking into the church that Sunday I remember wondering whether I was worth it. I remember thinking that maybe I had become this great and utter disappointment to God; that if He saw me with people who really wanted and understood how to worship Him that I was a failure. The service began and the pastor initiated his prayer saying that he hoped each of the people sitting before him would leave the service feeling both challenged and encouraged. I watched that morning as people continually reached out to God, laying their hearts down for Him to mold and shape with whatever message they are meant to take away. I remember sitting there feeling like a slacker; I couldn’t feel the weight of God and in that moment I wanted to. I wanted to understand the grace of God simply for my own choice independent of my past, of my moments being angry and resentful of the things God had placed in my life.

I remember coming back to campus that afternoon, sitting on my bed after the service, and finally talking to God after years spent abandoning Him. I remember feeling worthless and being filled to the brim with sadness, but I asked Him, “God, if you can, and if you really are there, please just forgive me like you know how. Show me that it’s okay to stumble in Faith and help me come back to You.” That afternoon became yet another time in my life when I wondered whether I needed approval.  I prayed and wrote in my journal for the next two hours, and at the end of getting my thoughts down to paper, I felt rekindled. I began to understand that God was present in my life. It felt like there was a presence over my fragile being ready to welcome me into a greater sense of peace.

I remember speaking with my campus minister, Greg and his wife, Ashley after that night. I knew I had spent a lot of time waltzing away from God and needed to express that notion somewhere. Ashley recommended I participate in the Beth Moore study, “Believing God” for ten weeks over the summer. Skeptical at first, and unsure of whether God actually wanted me to reinvest in him I started it shortly after she had given me the information. The first lesson was one where Beth shared some of her story swaying from God, how she fell back in love with the Lord and understood His great strength. I remember sitting there thinking, “God, this is it isn’t it? You’re trying to tell me something aren’t you?” I knew then that this was the other sliver of light I needed in my life to initiate the journey toward understanding and growing in God. I remember sitting my room, in the middle of my floor, and just bawling for hours as I begin to recognize all of the pain I’d acquired and the sin I’d accumulated in running from God. I stayed there and prayed to God saying, “Lord, I’ve been messed up for far too long now. I’ve run from you so many times; I know I’ve sinned greatly. I’m not clean, Lord, but I want to be made new in You again. I need you. I need Your light and love with me always.”

That night of vulnerability happened in early June and ever since then I’ve felt God prodding me and molding me to this great daughter He’s meant for me. There have been a number of instances since that night where God has opened the door of opportunity toward serving Him, toward growing in Faith and His Word. Words can never truly express all that has happened, but I believe that this chance to go to Nicaragua is another door being opened. If I don’t run toward it, then what light is it that I’m continuing to turn out?

My life is much different than it has been in passed years, but as I progress forward in the path that He has set for me I’m understanding that it happened for a reason larger than I can ever independently understand. More than anything this process has left me challenged and encouraged: challenged in self discovery of being able to let go and give it to Him while being encouraged to pursue a Faith based life, leaving the light on for others. 

His Job- Jonah Reinforcement

There's nothing like listening to Tenth Avenue North when all the world feels like it's overly heavy on your heart. It's crazy what that type of release can do for a person when all the moments seem to be swirling. It's reinforcing the beauty of God. Refreshing.

I wish I could write a little bit more tonight, but I really need to finish up this theory for thesis. Busy week and I'm just working through every day that comes at me. Last night for Bible Study with Jonah the notes mentioned the phrase, "God is good as His job." How awesome is that?! Our God, my God is an amazingly overwhelming and beautiful God.

All the fears I have this week. All of the apprehension. All of the crippling my mind has done. It's immeasurable when it comes to God's presence- His hand in our lives of desperation. God's good as His Job. Whether that's stressing me out, making exhausted from prying open the doors of chance, anxious about  the answers I can't see. It's God coming down to me and my heart, walking with me in the supposed moments of broken nature, and this is God saying "I've got this." This is entirely His thing. He saw it from the beginning and He's fit to see it until the end.

That's the beauty of this lord.

There's applications sitting on my desk, discussions to continue, and chances hovering over me every single day. Hey God, I'm all in.

On The Horizon

Big things have happened since the beginning of the year. Things happened I didn't even know I was capable of doing- that I was capable of God really reaching down and setting me up with here at Arcadia. Even now, a month and some change in? It feels completely insane to evaluate my life from what it was last Spring to what it is right now. I'm emotional person and it scares me sometimes to let my memories slip back into that sea- into that desperation, into that fear.

To Write Love- Arcadia is national now. It's part of Jamie's movement. We're part of Jamie's greater purpose.

 I remember the night we were approved on campus, when I came back and just cried until I was exhausted. Only to go downstairs hours later and say that I had experienced a kind of intense life interruption. God giving m this chance to work on this movement? To fall in love and see the puzzle pieces fit together even after struggle, even after logistics and all of the confusion in between. I don't think anyone will ever understand what it feels like for me. And it's not because I've done it; it's not because of the supposed legwork I've put forward. It's for the people to share their stories; it's the amazement at how the larger and overwhelming idea to turn and take over this project has now turned out to a 5 month process where God has continually come back into my life and presented To Write Love as that resource that's going to provide me with the light I need.

Do I get a little discouraged about the fact that this is here, that I hold myself to standards for it, and that those standards and our mission might not come across right away? Sure. I felt that way this weekend and I let Satan have his way for a hot second. There was doubt in my veins and instead of being sure there was a great sense of vacation within my spirit. I came home that afternoon, this past Saturday and just talked to God. I talked to friends and asked what the heck was going on. It's not that I wondered whether this was it- I guess I just was using tunnel vision and hoping for a different and romantic response. For a second I got selfish.

It's not about me. It never was. It's never going to be. It's about that tapestry up in the boughs of heaven being sewn together by God's great hand- it's those moments when a person struggling feels like the light has been left on for them. It's the community that leaves that light on and watches and aids the struggled body make its way to safe shores. It's those moments when I lay down in bed at night (or at 3 am) and just breathe deep thanking God for putting His work in front of me. For working pieces of this out at a time. For presenting me with moments of testing, but for making me work all the same.

For hands outstretched and a heart clear cut. For days like today, when I can still hear the courage through moments of loss and anxiety. Hey God, thanks. Truly.

What else? Well, there's the huge monster of Grad School and graduation. That comes around after night when I'm laying down and just, well, God just knows. He gets my fear. He gets my wonder and that's all there is to it.  The formulas and plans I thought I had before are still existent, but they're changing all the same.

I know, after weeks of research and understanding, that God is starting to push me toward teen/ youth work and counseling. But even more, He's pushing me toward the door of biblical counseling. If you knew me just one year ago? This NEVER would have been a path. But here I am, caught in the thick and dedication patches of God's plan. He's writing to me, and i need to properly find the words to answer back.

Right now? I have two things to do.

I have to have the conversation with my parents and introduce the path no matter the answer. That's the way to ease this heavy heart and move forward in this message from God. Words just need to come to me first. Love & words are the ones to harbor me. I'm scared of upsetting my family's formula, but like Caylynn said, if I don't do this while my heart is feeling it- while God is constructing it, then I'm doing a disservice. So, that's the hurdle. From there? I do more research. I highlight the path. And I apply. I dive in.


Other than that? I need to stay focused and pray. Pray for every door that's opening and stop being afraid of what I'm hesitant toward. God's got this golden hold, and I need to keep following down that highway. No matter what. So, that's the moment for me to become completely vulnerable and sift through this stuff. To become the contemplative spirit as I continue to make sense of what He's putting on my heart.

Heavy love & knocking hard.


Matthew 7:8 

No Man Is An Island

I've been asked to write a poem for my class in a few weeks. After coming home from Bible study tonight I felt instantly compelled to just sit and write for awhile. To talk to God through my internal thoughts- to let Him know where I am, what I'm thinking, and where it is that i've reconciled I've come from. I'll admit that in reality it sometimes feels like I'm a little bit alone in my life- like I give so much to others and invest so much energy to get nothing back. And this is one of those nights. Anyway, tonight we talked about having Holy Courage and I battled with the idea that it takes Jonah 500 miles to get to God. Bypassing all emotion.

500 miles inside my head and i'm not liking it. 500 miles to keep changing my heart.
This is what I've come up with, and it just feels good to have something reflective like this- no matter the actual quality.

God Swell

500 miles of this expansive and

Expensive existence where potential hangs

In the splitting fingernails of life’s

Semi- sweet, semi self- destructive ways;

500 miles.

500 weary miles where shoes attempt

To speak to the soul, to the pavement’s

Crackled mouth of challenge: tattered sounds of

The world’s uneasy motion:

500 miles until the island we’re all stretching for.

500 miles until the closest vein as it swims

Purposefully to the skin.

500 miles it takes the one to reach blue bottom

She reaches “red revival” in 2 seconds flat.

The island is covered with the tapestries of lost souls

Who cannot extend their hand, their hearts,

Their minds to another journey of

500 miles.

500 miles of thirst,

of hunger, of frustration

and searching for the identity crisis

that may or may not, reign you back home.

500 miles of these crippled plates where love

might last, but often times doesn’t;

Natives fought here just like you might be

Traipsing now.

It’s 500 miles running toward

The breathtaking presence of metal,

As it creates an even greater story;

It feels like 500 miles from your forearm

To the heart of the problem.

The mind is the island with

Cruel currents and sand too hot to touch

Except, for those rebels,

It burns the palms bare and

The road map plots destinations

Like notes on a piano.

500 miles in the presence of darkness,

Of wheels turning toward nowhere.

500 more toward the breeze of this God

That makes himself known to those on the highway.

500 miles of this expansive and expensive

Existence, where serenity is held

In the palms of a diligent grace;

500 miles just to breathe.

500 miles toward a grip of pudgy appendages,

Out stretched and ready to welcome the voyage.

500 miles beyond snickering razorblades,

500 more toward the spot of redemption.

Tired souls, slippery soles;

500 miles in the swell of an even greater promise;

500 miles.

Miles to letting go,

Miles to the exact place

Where memories breathe for the sake of realization

And where God takes the broken soles

To repair for the journey toward life:

500 more miles because

Building homes of heart is better

Than the island developed for isolation.

 Challenged & Encouraged