In the temple

There are tiny tastes of heaven here on earth.

These tastes stir up a longing for much more than this world can offer. C.S. Lewis said, "If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world." This is a clear call to heaven. I don't even need to bring up my faith here to get the point across - it's why we climb mountains and love babies and visit museums and murmur "yummm" after a full mouth of delicious food. It's what pushes us forward into the next thing, and then the next, and so on; we're always searching for more.

Of course, these experiences vary greatly as the measure is subjective but you know this feeling, don't you? You've encountered some event, person, or thing that leaves you with an unfulfilled feeling deep down in your gut. And they're not always good, these things. Sometimes, it's the fierce hope for an end to the madness of sorrow. Cancer sucks. Sex-trafficking (should) make us groan for an end. Addiction stirs the belly up into chaos and the never-ending "more". Death sweeps in and turns up so much, "But why?"

Standing to sing in the church service one night, I felt the need for this other world. The days are flying by lately, all for fantastically wonderful reasons; nevertheless, I was tired. My physical and mental limits became apparent as we sang because my mind, body, and heart were just not in it. I don't like this feeling and didn't wait long to ask the One who sings over me to give me words to sing back. Almost instantly, I could hear, "I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple." Isaiah 6 is a longtime favorite of mine and an awe-inspiring scene.

The first time I heard a friend express her hunger for heaven, I didn't get it. "Wait, you want to die? Now?" It was foreign to me as a baby in the faith. Here in the recounting of Isaiah's vision and commission, though, the awful glory of the Lord is on display before the prophet. This weight of glory and thoughts of the eternal display of God's glory in heaven woke me up. All of a sudden, I knew what my friend hungered for.

While the music played and people sang along, I pulled out my bible and read the Isaiah account. Before I see the words, I know what is coming next. Isaiah proclaims, "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!"

Isaiah didn't mince words; he knew his state well and felt the weight of God's glory before him, spread wide with the robe and the hosts of heaven shouting praises in heaven. I read through Isaiah's confession of unworthiness, the angels' "Holy Holy Holy!", the burning coals to lips, and land exactly where I need to be...

"And he touched my mouth and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” (Isaiah 6:7)

This is incredible. God did not leave Isaiah (or us now) crying, "Woe is me! I am a child of unclean lips...for my eyes have seen the King...!" The angels touch the burning coal - the purifying agent - to Isaiah's lips and his guilt is gone; his sin atoned for.

Isaiah's humility and God's gracious atonement moved deep within me that night. I tasted the smoke in the air while standing there and once again, my "Woe is me!" turns to "Here I am! Send me." No longer was I stiff and unbending during the worship happening around me; instead, I saw the room full of His robe and felt the flutter of air from angels' wings as I joined in with, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!" I longed for heaven afresh!

My hope is to always have Isaiah's temple experience in my mind as I face sorrows and joys too great to handle. God equipped Isaiah to do a great, difficult thing in his time and it's beneficial to see ourselves in a similar place. We can choose to let our earthly need for more terminate on ourselves; or, we can recall the removed guilt and atoned sin as we raise up our hands or lay on our faces and cry, "Here I am! Send me."

Maranatha!

A giver-upper in a do-or-die world

Wow, I can hardly believe it's been eight months since I last posted *anything* on this here blog. About a year ago, life changed quite a bit for me, so much that I feared life would not be normal again. Alas, normalcy reappeared, and here I am post-summer, with excitement for the upcoming heat relief and all that a new year will bring.

I wrote about my ongoing battle to fight overeating and losing weight almost two years ago. Many of the heart issues and struggles described then are still present today, though in much smaller ways. I don't obsess about food the way I have historically; I've made some drastic changes to my activity level; I'm eating almost entirely primal/paleo-style (no grains, no dairy, no sugar, no legumes); and most importantly, I continue to see the scale drop and the clothing loosen up. It's a great feeling!

Just before the cool air blows through in North Texas, though, I have started to hear the doubts, fears, and lies trickle in slowly. I celebrated 22 pounds lost last week, a great achievement in just under three months; what an exhilarating experience! I'm currently the smallest, healthiest, and strongest version of me that I've been in at least 7 years. Truly, maybe longer than that short span.

But after sharing the news with my best supporters, I start to hear the doubts creep in: "It's really not that much, you still have so far to go." Ouch, that popped my bubble for sure. Then, not long after that slam, I hear: "You are going to gain it all back." AH! I had a dream where I was standing on my bathroom scale and watching the numbers increase up and up back to my original weight. That'll get a girl's heart rate up first thing in the morning! The big lie came just a few days ago: "Try all you will, you'll never be skinny/pretty/thin/strong enough for any man." What a way to cut a single girl's heart deep.

I recognize these doubts, fears, and lies very plainly. I live in community with other believers and a strong family support system that won't let me believe that crap. Thank the great Lion of Judah for them!

You know what's in my heart, though? The desire to believe those ridiculous statements and to feel justified if/when I give up on all the hard work. Confession, y'all: I'm a chronic giver-upper in many ways.

I don't think an outsider, or even someone in that strange group of "not quite a friend, not quite a stranger" people would say I give up on things. My career is not exactly what I initially dreamed up, but it's a wonderful position at a very successful company. Six and half years and counting...it all seems great!

My family's idea of me consists mostly of a girl that has worked hard to get through school and extracurriculars, only to come out of the other side with a great job and a few awesome traveling experiences under my belt. Those things aren't untrue, they're just not the full picture.

Those with the greatest insight into the real Angela are also the ones who show the greatest grace. My best friends and my sisters have seen the side of me that many don't, and thank God that they have stuck with me through it. The truth remains: I am a giver-upper.

The list of failed projects could go on for days and I won't waste your time with it. My sweet sister watched me cycle through many aspirations while we lived together; I had the boxes of half-made crafts and unread books to tell the story well enough. She shed some light on the problem, persuaded me to let go of possessions that might have meant more to me if I had done anything useful with them. Diets, workout plans, volunteering with causes, rigid daily devotional plans, this blog...all half-done and with no motivation or desire to return to them.

This is an echo of a much deeper character flaw of mine: I'm looking for the thrill of a challenge, but struggle to keep up in the day-to-day rhythm of consistent work.

Fear grips me when my mind wonders long enough to imagine all the ways this will wreck my life: giving up on the hard workouts after my six-month plan is up at the end of the year. Marriage, kids, making and keeping a home, pushing through the dry days as I seek to feed my soul. My days of self-apathy are far away, but it too echoes every once in awhile, "You don't deserve those things. You will fail and disappoint so many."

This is where my sweet friend Jesus steps onto the scene, and puts those lies and fears to shame. He's unfolding an epic story that he's asked me to play a part in, and won't have me waddling in failure and fear. He calls me out of the desert and to the river of Living Water. He alone quenches my longing for thrill and adventure when he says:

But you, Israel, my servant,

Jacob, whom I have chosen,

the offspring of Abraham, my friend;

you whom I took from the ends of the earth,

and called from its farthest corners,

saying to you, “You are my servant,

I have chosen you and not cast you off”;

fear not, for I am with you;

be not dismayed, for I am your God;

I will strengthen you, I will help you,

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

(Isaiah 41:8-10)

The most lovely words a giver-upper can hear, when humbled before the Lord with hands full of failure and lack of resolve: "I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

When those lies sneak in, or I'm tempted with my own desire to give up, or when someone unintentionally tempts me to cave, I wave this banner of truth in my mind: the Creator took us from the ends of the earth and called us His. He has not cast us off, when that's what we deserve. He promises to strengthen, help, and uphold us through every detail of His epic. 

I can't wait to see the story unfold.

A Downsized Life

I started a different post with a different tone but realized I was trying too hard to be eloquent, which kind of defeats the purpose of these thoughts. Stay with me...

I came back from India in the summer of 2011 promising myself that I would simplify my life. I saw and experienced some powerful things in India and I didn't want to forsake those experiences by returning to status quo. I remember talking to a sweet friend, half-way around the world at the time, using the amazing technology of the internet. She asked how I was doing, how was I dealing with life in India. I vividly recall the honesty of my yearning, "I can't wait to go home but I'm so afraid to be home."

If you've traveled much out of the U.S. - particularly to developing or third world countries - you might relate with the sentiment. I was so eager to get home to my bed; to the arms of my friends, family, and church family; to my quick grocery store trips for fresh fruits and vegetables; to eat some dang meat without worrying about food poisoning!

Fear crept in, though, after I realized that I lived so selfishly and so comfortably at home without a care at all about the world just a flight (or three) away. The comfortable life, or the American dream, or whatever name you give it, is a very common yet rarely questioned concept in the West. I couldn't see it for myself until I stepped away to live a different life; as short as that time was, it marked me. Whatever it was I worked so hard to achieve back home was not panning out too well. I didn't know how to fix it but I knew something had to give.

Disclaimer: I'm not knocking tradition, or the reward of hard work, or the desire to continue a growing legacy just like your parents or my parents did before us. Depending on what mood I'm in when you ask, I'm either the revolutionary that declares, "Always question status quo!" or the wanna-be-homemaker that reminds, "Hold tight to traditions and the family life!" I lean much more revolutionary in thought, homemaker in action, and I'm still evolving. (end of disclaimer)

India - and my sweet Father God working amidst it - showed me that I had created a way of life that was not for me. I was afraid to go home to complacency, comfort, gluttony, and selfish ambitions. I didn't want to face the bills, the closet full of clothes, the full refrigerator and endless product options. I didn't want to forgot how ashamed I was to stay in a four-star hotel while looking out my patio door at a family huddled in a shamble of a brick hut.

Where exactly did this all come from? Not my family. Not my friends. Not my church or a documentary or a TV commercial with Sarah McLachlen music. I have spent hours talking to my dear ones about these desires that seem so alien and yet so real. I haven't copied or created my own version of someone else's life (at least, not to my knowledge). Yet my good God is teaching me that this life is not my own.

18 months later, one more trip to my country away from home, and many failed attempts to simplify: I find myself weighed down by this life again. Very little has changed externally while my heart and mind have transformed dramatically. My home, my comings-and-goings, my checkbook...they don't portray the internal change. The resulting tension (some may call it hypocrisy) hasn't made for a joyous season and it's time to reconcile the two for real, for real.

Grief has been a constant companion for the last four or five months; when she settled in, she decided to stay as long as she wanted and I learned to not boss her. Instead, tears and anxiety and anger have taken me to the arms of my Comforter over and over again. As Grief packs her bags, I hear the old challenge to lay down my life so that I might find it again. It's not a one-and-done kind of thing, but a daily repositioning of the heart that is prone to wander far from the grace of God.

A sister in Christ wrote a wonderful post that challenged me last fall and a post from Donald Miller today got my wheels turning again. Don so eloquently phrased the life I want to live but had never taken the time to write down for myself. The means look different but the end is the same:

• Connecting with people I love each day
• Having a healthy routine
• Getting sleep and taking a sabbath
• Working on a meaningful project
• Giving generously to the people around me
• Being wise with my finances
• Having some sort of artistic creative expression in my life
• Having a long-term vision for my life
(emphasis mine)

I thought this would be a quick post where I could point you to Don's post, and Lore's post, say a few things and sign off. I guess when the heart pours out, it pours and you don't plug it up.

Will you do me a favor? Keep me accountable to these things. In my post-gone-bad, I waned on about how when I decide to do something new, I jump in full force. It's not a terrible trait - it's served me well professionally - but for a life overhaul, I'm pretty sure one change at a time is easier to swallow. Some of the changes that need to happen will hurt, and I'll question if I really need to follow through, or I'll think I'm further along than I really am. Ask me about my progress when you see me. If there is anything I really know it's that lasting change relies solely on the work of the Holy Spirit, so pray with me and for me that I would die to selfish motives and live for Christ.

"But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead."
(Philippians 3:7-11 ESV)

A painful and beautiful journey

I call this a journey because I am the last person that wants to say "I've arrived, I've figured it out." I need a sign on my forehead that says "Work In Progress". With that said, I'm long overdue for some public confession.

For years, I've made food, instant gratification and every whim and desire that comes to mind my supreme focus. Not always consciously, that's true, but I'd be a liar if I said I made some choices without thinking twice. From a sociological standpoint, we can come up with tons of reasons (read: excuses) for this - the American culture, an abundance of resources, "living life to the fullest", tradition, "there's nothing wrong with it", "you're too hard on yourself", etc. For me, the truth is: I turn to food and satiety in its many forms for comfort, security, control and identity.

A few years ago, someone was speaking about responsibility and accountability for weaknesses in one's character and actions. The speaker pointed out many of our well-acquainted (and often, socially acceptable) reasons we give for not owning up to our failures; the list included the ones already mentioned and others like family/friend influence, upbringing, peer pressure, emotional instability. These are all rooted in the attitude of helplessness. Before I knew it, the breaking blow came out of the speaker's mouth - none of these (nor any others) are valid excuses for being a grown adult and feeding/growing in your character flaws. We were being challenged to own our failures and actions in the present; our destructive and irresponsible behaviors should (and could) no longer be blamed on anyone else.

It was an awakening. For the first time in my adult life, my heart and mind were open to the truth that I can make a conscious choice to not feed my flaws. It was also soul crushing for me. I felt utterly overwhelmed when I looked at the breadth of my destructive ways and I didn't trust in my strength to truly change. I knew I was weak and that it was my lack of strength that had always failed me.

Let me say this before going on any further: this isn't just about food. If you're reading this and think that's the case, please reconsider. It's possible that you're reading and we are not very well acquainted - oh the joys of facebook and the internets - but if we've had a conversation in the last 5-7 years, I'd like to think that you know I'm talking of much more than food issues. And as cheesy as it may sound - I would have rolled my eyes and sighed too at one point (oh how the proud fall) - I'm talking about the heart here. Your heart. My heart. Left to our own devices, we will ALWAYS choose comfort and satiety. That's the chief focus here and I'm begging you, don't disengage or shut down. Hear me out.

So, back to this journey I'm on. I was faced with my self destructive behaviors in full for the first time ever. I could see them for what they were and I was heartbroken. My excuses had been stripped away and I felt very raw, very bare to this new reality. I am the overachiever, the do-gooder, the A student, a proud firstborn. I don't fail, right?

Wrong.

I tell this story when people ask me what changed in regards to taking care of my physical self. Really, I know my thoughts and emotions were already being stirred up to see reality but it caught up with me one morning as I woke up. I looked over to the mirror on top of my dresser as I sat up in bed and I didn't recognize my reflection. I stared for a long time, trying to pick up any faint reminders of me and I couldn't. I was really scared and the heartbreak weighed heavy.

I don't know about others but the perfectionist firstborn thing plays both to my favor and my pain. When I fall, I want to pick myself up by my bootstraps, dust myself off and go. My sister said the other day, "when you decide something, you jump in head first." It's true and isn't something I'm ashamed of, really. I just don't always pick the best things to jump head first into and I'm woefully disappointed when I don't succeed. See! Favor and pain.

I woke up and knew things had to change. Through tons of interactions with others and plenty of self reflection, I finally correlated my unhealthy living with deep rooted excuses and lies I had bought into for years. I'm not sure I believe a person experiences true success with any physical change without experiencing emotional and spiritual change as well. In fact, I may someday argue that the emotional and spiritual change must occur first before anything. I may also come back and eat my words, too. Only time will tell.

The last 16-18 months have held plenty of success and failure. I've tried a crash diet, hardcore calorie tracking, USDA food guidelines (huge mistake, by the way), working out hard 5-6 days a week; I gave up trying to do anything for a short jaunt while in India thinking Indian food would prove healthier than my normal diet. It's mostly vegetarian, how could that hurt? (Side note: has anyone eaten paneer? As delicious as it is, it's not meant to be eaten everyday. Trust me and the 5-8 lbs I gained.) My pride has been tested to (what feels like) the extreme and that includes my insecurities and fears.

You know what, though? I've tasted the freedom of choice and it's what keeps me going. Even when I fall (and this happens often), I forcefully remind myself that I have a choice to make - death or life - and  I'm enabled to get back up again. I told a dear friend recently, when talking about what changed down deep: "I finally believe the promise of real joy is for me and I want to do everything I can to taste it. I was a slave to myself and my appetite. I want and choose joy today."

I wonder sometimes, "what would I be like today if I believed these things but I hadn't experienced any physical progress in the right direction? Would I persevere or would I retreat into old ways?" In all honesty, I don't have a solid answer to that question. I know I'd like it to be positive, that this change is much deeper than skin, but I'm not sure. Again, only time will tell.

If you're reading and identify with anything I've said, can I encourage you? You are more than your ideas about you and your life is meant to be much more than you think it is. I'm not talking about money, social success, the ideal weight, romance. I'm talking about the down deep you - you are meant for more than your ideas of what you should be. Haven't you asked it before? In the quiet, in the still moments when the noise fades, haven't you whispered or shouted it out to yourself? Maybe even hoping that someone would answer?

I have good news: there is someone to answer. Someone heard me when I was at my lowest, when I could barely form words to express the pain and regret. I know it is hard to believe; I've doubted it countless times and don't be surprised (I won't) when I'm found doubtful again. Someone values you much more than anyone or anything else in this world; someone hears you, even in your silence. You won't ever be able to fathom His care, His love for you and He doesn't expect you to. He only asks for you to come: "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest." His name is Jesus Christ and He wants to give you rest right now.

The joy, the freedom, the ability to see, the strength to make a choice, that I can get up when I fall - it is only possible because I find my peace in Him. Don't try to clean yourself up first. Don't ignore the call until tomorrow. Don't believe that you've got too much baggage or that you're beyond the gifts of grace and mercy - that's a lie and only leads to more pain. Go to Him with your anger, your pain, your frustrations, your fears, your insecurities, your lusts, your hunger, your thirst. I promise that He will answer. And those ideas you've created about what your life is and can be will be trumped in painful but beautiful ways.

Choose joy. Join me on this journey

Anything

(I wrote this to one of my sisters from a different mister and I felt like it needed to be posted here too)

I was thinking deeper with this quote last night and had just a few thoughts floating around as a result.

"I will do anything not to die here. I want to live and not die." 

(Jen Wilkin in the Women's Bible Study at my church)

The word "live" here has so many meanings to me beyond the obvious. To live equals not dying. And I don't think of just a physical death (though it's not excluded from that meaning here) but also, I think of it as the death of dreams-to-be-fulfilled; death of who I really am inside that is hidden behind depression, self-hate, insecurity and hopelessness; death of what I could be but choose not to be by not fighting sin; death of real joy, even happiness on some levels; death of the experience of real, honest-to-goodness freedom; death of a deer-panting-for-water type of relationship with Jesus. So, therefore, since "to live" means that these things (and I) don't have to die, then "to live" means it won't be my hand that causes my body to wither away; I am free to be me because I don't bow to fear, insecurity, depression anymore; I can actually dream (!!) instead of killing my dreams when I am crippled by my sin and am hopeless; my self-imposed, closed doors to my future potential are now open; I can finally experience more than fleeting happiness but abiding joy (it's a real thing that I didn't think existed for a long time); and best of all, I get to have a relationship with Jesus that isn't a yoke but a delight.

All of this because first, I have said "I will do anything not to die here." Jen called it a "ruthless determination" to fight sin. It makes me think of a popular sermon jam with Piper. Holy smokes, it's powerful.

The quote is also indicative of how I've had to force myself to think about the sin I find myself in with the biggest, longest living idols in my life. It sticks with me because I prayed (and still do) a lot that God wouldn't turn me over to my sin, i.e. what I desired more than Him. I told Him that I needed Him to be my rescue, literally pulling me away from my sin and my selfish tendencies with whatever means was necessary. He's been faithful in this time and time again; my lust for these things still rages on and I still fail a lot but the heart-positioning that is the foundation of this quote is what I have to pursue over and over - every single day. It doesn't come natural but it's possible if I'll just ask for it every single day. I don't want to live to be a slave, I want to live to be free. Free.

Greatly loved

This is an excerpt from my go-to devotional year round. Even if I listed each example, you'd never believe how often I will randomly pull up that day's morning or evening entry and it speaks straight to an issue I am dealing with that day. I sat in church on Sunday morning after singing my medicine and asked my good friend, "Why? Why does He love us? How could He?" The Lord not only continually teaches me to trust in His love for me, He also asks me to step out of the trap of unbelief. Just as I'm asking "How? Why?", He shows that He loves me - loves me just where I am, questions and all - by leading me to a passage about His very nature. Unbelievable.

Evening

"...man greatly loved." - Daniel 10:11

Child of God, do you hesitate to appropriate this title? Has your unbelief made you forget that you are also greatly loved? Surely you must have been greatly loved, to have been bought with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot? When God crushed His only Son for you, what was this but being greatly loved? You lived in sin and rioted in it; surely you were greatly loved for God to have been so patient with you.You were called by grace and led to a Savior and made a child of God and an heir of heaven. Doesn't this all prove a very great and superabounding love? Since that time, whether your path has been rough with troubles or smooth with mercies, it has been full of proofs that you are greatly loved. If the Lord has chastened you, it was not in anger; if He has made you poor, still in grace you have been rich. The more unworthy you feel yourself to be, the more evidence you have that nothing but unspeakable love could have led the Lord Jesus to save a soul like yours. The more disapproval you feel, the clearer is the display of God's abounding love in choosing you and calling you and making you an heir of heaven. Now, if such love exists between God and us, let us live in the influence and sweetness of it and use the privilege of our position. We should not approach our Lord as though we are strangers or as though He were unwilling to hear us - for we are greatly loved by our loving Father. "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"* Come boldly, believer, for despite the whispers of Satan and the doubts of your own heart, you are greatly loved. Meditate on the exceeding greatness and faithfulness of divine love this evening, and then go to your bed in peace.

*Romans 8:32
(emphasis added by me)

Blocked, Then Accepted

This is some good stuff, friends. I pulled this straight from the Desiring God blog. 

God’s Love: Blocked, Then Accepted 

April 3, 2011 - by John Piper

 

George Herbert was born on this day in 1593. He described his poems as echoes of the conflict between God and his own soul. Yes, but there is also resolution. He had been subdued by love.

Here we see the love of God blocked, and then accepted. I pray that love will triumph for you in this way.

        LOVE (III)
        by George Herbert

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
        Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
        From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
        If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
        Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
        I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
        "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
        Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
        "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
        So I did sit and eat.

Control

This is an excerpt from a book called Jesus Lives by Sarah Young. I have not read this book, and actually just found out about it today, but I saw an excerpt from it on the Our Crazy Marriage blog and man, can I tell you that it was the perfect time for me to read this? Don't you love it when that happens? I do...

Anyhow, here's the excerpt. I hope it catches you and makes you think like it did for me.

CONTROL

Entrust your loved ones to Me. They are much safer with Me than in your clinging hands.

Sometimes you confuse loving others with rescuing them. When a loved one has a problem, you often feel responsible to come up with a solution. Then you plunge headlong into problem-solving mode, as if you're obligated to provide sound advice. I want to help you stop feeling responsible to fix people since that is My role--not yours.

It is My prerogative to bring about change in people's lives as I choose to do so. You can be part of the process, but remember that I am the Author and Director of the drama. You need to follow My script rather than creating your own. Do not usurp My role in people's lives, no matter how much you long to help them.

When you feel compelled to rescue a loved one, take a good look at the quality of your love. Learn from Me, because I have all authority in heaven and on earth: I could rescue or control anyone at will. Yet I intentionally created people with the capacity to choose good or evil. I wanted them to be free to love Me--or not. Love that has no choice is not real!

Subordinate your deficient, controlling love to My perfect, empowering Love. Prayerfully release your loved ones into My protective care. Restrain your urges to solves their problems. Instead, use your time and energy to listen to them and pray for them. Trust in My Love and My unsearchable wisdom. I can work changes in your loved ones' lives beyond anything you might ask or imagine. As you release these precious ones to Me, linger awhile in My unfailing love--for them and also for you.

Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me." (Matthew 28:18)

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:20-21)

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. (Psalm 143:8)

Navigating the holidays....single

Before you jump on me about being "content in my singleness", please bear with me. It's not easy to be vulnerable and transparent, especially in this daily battle against lies while seeking hard after truth. This is a confession, not a lecture.

Here I am again. It's December 15th - just nine days until Christmas and fifteen until New Year's Eve. I'm working my tail off at work. Buying a few small gifts for the extra special people in my life. Avoiding the milky chocolate goodness that is homemade fudge (with a 98% success rate). Anticipating the new year just around the corner. Here I am again. Single during the holidays.

I have tons of memories of this month. Warm Christmas mornings with my family, watching the Christmas Day parade. Christmas Eve at my grandma's house every single year, cramped into that little living room just to be near to my great family. Deep breaths of crisp, winter air all the while hoping for just a few snowflakes. Hot cocoa and Mom's cookies, crocheted blankets and fuzzy socks. Wood fires in my parents' house. The hustle and bustle of shopping malls (Lord help us). Pink cheeks from the cold air outside and twinkling lights on homes around the neighborhood.

All of these are great things. I never want to diminish the happiness that is associated with these things every year.

Today, I can't help but feel something is missing from this picture. You know what I'm talking about if you've ever been single longer than you wanted to be. It's an ache, deep down, right? Am I alone in this? I hope not.

I had just turned 19 years old when I began writing to my future spouse. It sounded very weird to me the first time I heard of the idea. "How do you write to someone you don't know yet?", I'd think. It didn't take long for me to get the hang of it. I've filled four or five notebooks in the last six'ish years. It's therapeutic. It's gutwrenching. It's exciting.

But I wonder each time I turn to a fresh page lately, are these letters - love letters - written in vain? "Will this really happen for me, Lord?" is a very common question from my praying lips.

You don't know this about me but I got my heart broken around this time of year. I was 17 years old. I thought I was in love with this guy that made me feel like a million bucks. I was ready to turn my life upside down for him. If I'm honest, I knew something was off. My conscience would not rest and on that typical December afternoon, as I checked my email at my part-time job downtown, all of my plans changed. I cried until I fell asleep most nights; I didn't eat for three or four days at a time; I swore that he'd come back when he realized his mistake (that's an entirely different story for another day). I had a hole in my heart, one that I swore was so real I could feel it drawing my chest in with each sob.

I'll save you many more details, but in the end, I realized I needed that broken heart. I would not have seen my need for my heart Healer if I didn't go through that awful December afternoon. I would have idolized that man for who knows how long. My Father did what I could not do for myself.

The same is true today, this December 15th of 2010. My Father does for me what I cannot do for myself. Brace yourself fellow singles: He gives me singleness to break me apart for my ultimate good in His plan. The truth is - I don't always feel "ready" for marriage or even a relationship. I see selfishness, pride, idolatry in myself on a good day. I am surrounded by beautiful family members and friends that give and give and give and yet, I still let them down with a bad attitude or just plain ole apathy. I am not confident that I would be a good wife; in fact, given the many stories I've heard from some wise women, I will most definitely fail in my own strength.

Though I look forward to the day when I get to celebrate with my own special guy, I know it will come soon enough. I will keep writing letters in my notebooks. That ache deep down inside will continue to make me turn towards my Jesus. I will intentionally practice selflessness and humility with the great people around me. I will enjoy my memories of Decembers past and make many more wonderful memories this December. I will not idolize the gift of marriage; instead, I will worship the ultimate Giver of gifts.

So, here I am again. Single this holiday season. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.

Stretched Thin

Yep, that's me right now - stretched thin. So, as much as I want to write all sorts of posts on here, I am going to stick to silence for now except for a few Songs To Sing posts. I'm always listening to music and often, the music that pierces me most is what I desperately need to hear at that time.

"To The God of Victory" was the last post in the Songs To Sing series. I need to believe God is victorious right now; I'm struggling with that truth.

My next STS post will be "A Mighty Fortress" by Christy Nockels. Does this woman have a direct line to knowing my fears, struggles and needs? Her lyrics kill me (in a good way). We sang this song at church on Sunday and it was a sweet reminder to my spirit; I love my church.

Much love to all of my friends & family that click when a new post comes across. I miss blogging, I just don't have the energy for it right now. There's too much to say and I would get no work done at the office if I tried to blog during lunch.

I'm being moved by Zephaniah 3:16-17 right now; I hope it speaks to you too.

“On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
Fear not, O Zion;
let not your hands grow weak.
17 The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing."

Much love,
Ang

Pain

UPDATE: I found a post from Justin Taylor that I think fits in so perfectly with my random stream of thoughts in this post. Check it out here.

So many people are in pain right now - be it physical, mental, emotional. Friends, parents, co-workers, relatives.

The desperation can sink in ever so slowly. Sometimes, though, it comes quickly like a torrent of early spring rain. It's different for each person.

Even this week I've seen it play it differently for both those I hold near and love dearly, and those I know from a distance (and love dearly as well).

Mostly we are taught to fear pain, to avoid it at all cost. The advice is: stay away from those whose mouthy barbs hurt; don't allow anyone close enough to know your deepest, darkest secrets; avoid the homeless or hitch-hikers because they just want to scam you or hurt you. (These are only what comes to mind now, at 5pm on a Friday; please excuse the randomness).

What happens when we turn this notion on its head and embrace pain instead?

Think about it. Imagine what it truly means to not despair because of cancer; or financial loss; or harsh criticism; or an imperfect body; or the countless other pains today. Try to feel the weight of your emotions and thoughts when pain strikes.

We say, "Oh, I know that I would not despair. The Lord is my hope/I am too strong for it/I don't think that situation warrants it." Or, in all honesty, we run away afraid, hurt, betrayed, angry, thinking we are full of much more wisdom than the One who orchestrates the situation that causes pain. "I deserve to despair; just give that much to me." is the anthem when the despair is all one feels in control of.

Do you believe He is in control?

Do you believe He is good?

Do you believe that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate [you] from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord?

No?

Repent. Now.

Turn to the One who holds all of creation in His hands, who catches all your desperate tears. He hears your cries of prayers, even when they sound more like groanings than words. He understands your anger, because He too watched as injustices took place against both others and Himself. He felt pain as you have, tasting betrayal stronger than most today will ever experience. He begged that the cup of suffering pass Him in His darkest hour. His body was pierced, torn, beaten, broken with pain so intense that He poured blood.

Turn to He who says, "Come all you who are weary, and I will give you rest."

The victim mentality ("why me?") will only lead you further into despair. Don't allow your heart and mind and soul to go there.

For a little over two years now, I've followed the story of a woman who lost her full-term baby days before her due date. A part of my heart hurts thinking about what it means to lose a child. I cannot and will not pretend to understand that loss, however.

She now writes about grief and the process on her blog. Here's an excerpt of her talking about the grief:

I feel like I’ve fought it tooth and nail. But now I’m coming to more of a peace with it. I’m accepting it more. One of my dear friends through this process (who is older and wiser than me, thank God) shared with me recently about a grief she’d been facing in her life. Something she said really stood out to me. She told me, “I’m gonna drink this painful cup all the way down, just drain it. And I’m gonna ask the Lord to make it something beautiful.”

It's confusing to think of grief and pain this way. It doesn't come naturally but rather is a grace given by God. My hope is that you will drink your painful cup and ask the Lord to make it something beautiful.

You can't avoid pain. But you can choose to use it to make much of the Lord and to inspire others to do the same.

Lord, make it something beautiful.

Asking Him to be Yahweh Rophe - the God Who Heals

I've been working up the courage to write this post for over a month now; it's been very difficult to piece together. I don't completely understand why though I know myself enough to tell you that I've been in hiding. When circumstances become difficult to manage or understand, I want to withdraw from the outside world. I want to curl up on my couch, read a book or watch a movie, talk very little on the phone and just be alone. It stings a bit to be honest like this because I don't like this about myself. I want to be strong (in Him)! I want to persevere valiantly (through Him)! I want to stand up to the fears, hurts, sadness that taunt me and laugh at it because I know He is much bigger than any of it. The knowledge is there (He is good and will take care of us) but physically and emotionally I am tempted to just shut off, disengage.

I disengaged and hid a lot when I was a child and teenager. My circumstances, my family's circumstances were sometimes too overwhelming for my little mind and spirit to handle. So, I'd determine what needed to be done in the moment, do it, and try not to feel the dread or fear or anger or sadness that rose up inside. It is truly a defense mechanism, learned when I was very young (probably around 3 or 4) and perfected by my late teens. I see it clearly in my little sister as well. She said something very poignant one night after dinner recently. My tears were streaming at the moment and I could tell she was much more than an observer this time; she was feeling some pain too. She tried so hard to blink away the stinging eyes and avoid crying altogether. I told her that there is nothing wrong with tears; they're not a sign of weakness as the world sees them, but rather they're a sign that you can feel and feel deeply. That is nothing to be ashamed of but rather something to embrace. Her response was something along the lines of shame - it's so hard to not believe crying is weak and if you cry, you're not in control.

Where did we learn this? Why is this our response? It's difficult to understand. I have cried more tears in these last eight years than I probably did in the 17 years before that and I have no shame to say so. "Something changed inside me broke wide open all spilled out, till I had no doubt that something changed", says Sara Groves. "Something so amazing in a heart so dark and dim, when a wall falls down and the light comes in." The Light came into this little girl's hardened heart and one of the results is tears.

Many tears have been shed in the last several months. Last September a little boy in my church finally succumbed to a long battle with cancer; his little body couldn't take it anymore. I had never met him but it felt like losing a family member because we had prayed for his healing for nearly two years. At the same time, many of us in the Church remembered the loss of a sweet baby girl, born into the arms of Jesus just two years earlier. Her family is still here in this world, longing for the time they'll see her again. The holidays approached quickly and many began to think of loved ones who had already passed away. November and December had many dark days for me as I thought about my Grandma not being in her big reclining chair on Christmas Eve. My church was shaken, but not toppled, when we heard our lead pastor suffered a seizure Thanksgiving morning in what has eventually lead to the the discovery of a brain tumor and brain cancer. We continue to pray for his complete healing amidst chemo and radiation that began just a week ago.

I'm not entirely sure how to wrap all of this up in a deep, meaningful way other than to point to the Lord. I'm asking Him to be Yahweh Rophe - the God who heals. My tears do not pour out because God has let me down. May it never be! The tears flow because I know He catches each one of them and He hears my cries, my deepest groanings when I cannot contain those emotions. There is a lot of deep hurt in this world, in this city, in each of us that we cannot fix ourselves. You know what I mean when I say that pain is unavoidable. Stop numbing your mind/body/heart to the hurts and wounds you feel; don't run away from them either. Instead, turn to Yahweh Rophe - the only One who can heal and in the process, give you true joy.

Convicted by the Care Bears

The weirdest thing just happened: I was convicted while watching a Care Bear clip featuring Dark Heart (a Care Bear villain in the famous 80's cartoon).

Before you jump to conclusions, I don't typically watch Care Bears on YouTube. I was actually reading a new blog post from The Resurgence about "following your heart" and the blogger embedded the Care Bear clip in the post. Check the post out here when you get a chance. It's a great read about the very common and - in my opinion - overused phrase, "follow your heart".

Here's the clip:



This is Dark Heart's line that got me, just as he was morphing into a huge scary cloud:

"Nooooooooooo! Get away from me!! Keep your kindness and affection to yourself!!"

Ummmmm, so....yeah. That's in me. For a long time. Slightly hidden - for the most part - underneath congenial friendships and pursuits of deeper relationships.

As the words reverberate in my ears, and the sound of the voice in the video morphs into my own in my mind, I see more clearly all of a sudden. These words appear in my heart and head when relationships get deeper; you know, when the inevitable "history of my life" (i.e. testimony) comes up over coffee or dinner. Or, when you become more intentional with your time with friends and you know you have to open up about the junk [you were/currently are] sitting in.

There's this catching feeling, this anxiety, this instinctual response to push people away that rises in me when intimacy begins to root in any kind of relationship. It's especially strong when those people are freely gracious, kind, generous and loving. I don't think I've been completely oblivious to this in me - I actually have fought quite hard against it in commitment to my home group through the years - but I am still surprised that it's still there in such severity. And more so, I'm surprised how quick I was to recognize that silly little cartoon villain as myself.

Wow. Who'd a thunk it? Empathizing with Dark Heart from Care Bears.

What I like about the little clip, though, is that Dark Heart didn't get to stay...well, dark. He was forced to confront the light. Say what you will about the Care Bears (I'll admit it's a bit cheesy, even for young kids), the allegory is great in this clip. (It's not perfect though - Jesus is definitely not a Care Bear.)

In the same way, I do not get to remain as my own version of Dark Heart. There is always something - really Someone - who forces Light into the dark.

"For it is you who light my lamp; the Lord my God lightens my darkness." Psalm 18:28

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,' even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you." Psalm 139:11,12

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:1-5

"Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.'" John 8:12

"I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness." John 12:46

"Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires." Romans 13:11-14

I could insert many, many, many more references to day/light versus night/darkness from the Scriptures but I'm sure you get the point; or maybe like me, you're a bit thick-skulled and have to hear these truths over and over again. Either way, the truth is clear - Christ is the light in my Dark Heart. Though I may perceive that the darkness will overcome me, that the Dark Heart in Angela will dominate, the truth is that I no longer walk in darkness but rather in His light.

When the anxiety, the catching feeling, the instinctual response to push away attempts to thwart intimacy in my relationships with others - or even my relationship with Him - I have faith that the dark heart no longer reigns. There is nothing to fear in relationships when He is the Light of my life. There is no reason to run back into the shadows with shame and guilt over the past. I do not have to waste one moment on worrying about whether or not I am good enough or pretty enough or smart enough or funny enough. This desire to push/run away out of fear of rejection or fear of being hurt after opening up - it disappears in the light. My focus is not on myself but is instead on the blinding and glorious Light of the World.

Instead of bellowing "Get away from me! Keep your kindness and affection to yourself!!", I can accept the love and affection of my friends and family with open arms. In the process, it makes me that much more able to give my love and affection to them - and others - in return.

Good ole' Spurgeon

I think I've talked about my favorite devotional here before; it's called Morning and Evening by Charles Haddon Spurgeon. I've read through it completely once and am working on my second time through it now; the passages are never old or redundant. Because Spurgeon was a 19th century preacher from London, his speeches/writings are not always the easiest to understand. Therefore, the version I have of the devotional uses updated language, revised by Alistair Begg (also from London, now based in Cleveland; a good modern-day preacher, as far as I know and have heard personally).

Anyhow, when I picked up the book this morning, I thought about how I would like to just re-read the morning passage from yesterday; it's my favorite in the entire book. (Crazy as it seems to me, I haven't posted on that passage specifically but have typed up others here and here.) I relented and moved forward, though, knowing that God has blessed this minuscule obedience many times by providing just the right word for me at just the right moment.

Today's passage was just what I had to hear today, especially after some stressful times yesterday and the great teaching I received last night in class. I thought I'd type it out for you today; put it out there and share it in case it brings some things to the surface for you or just reminds you of where true strength comes from. Enjoy!

Morning passage from November 4th

"For my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9

A primary qualification for serving God with any amount of success, and for doing God's work well and triumphantly, is a sense of our own weakness. When God's warrior marches out to battle, strong in his own might, when he boasts, "I know that I will overcome - my own ability and my self-confidence will be enough for victory," defeat is staring him in the face. God will not enable the man who marches in his own strength. He who reckons on victory by such means has reckoned wrongly, for "not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts." (Zechariah 4:6) Those who go out to fight, boasting of their ability, will return with their banners trailing in the dust and their armor stained with disgrace. Those who serve God must serve Him in His own way and in His strength, or He will never accept their service. Whatever a man does, unaided by divine strength, God can never own. The mere fruits of the earth He casts away; He will only reap corn the seed of which was sown from heaven, watered by grace, and ripened by the sun of divine love. God will empty out all that you have before He will put His own into you; He will first clean out your granaries before He will fill them with the finest of wheat. The river of God is full of water; but not one drop of it flows from earthly springs. God will have no strength used in His battles but the strength that He Himself imparts. Are you mourning over your own weakness? Take courage, for there must be a consciousness of weakness before the Lord will give you victory. Your emptiness is but the preparation for your being filled, and you are being humbled to prepare you for being lifted up.

When I am weak then am I strong, grace is my shield and Christ my song.

You Do Not Understand Now

It's a cool dreary day here in Dallas. I am extremely grateful for it. Though I'm a summer baby through and through, I also eagerly await late September through late November every year; there is something very refreshing about the hot muggy summer days being blown away by the cool dry winds of autumn.

That doesn't have much to do with my post today but I'm giving thanks for it this morning.

It was about three years ago that Lois, my counselor at the time, used a story of the apostle Peter to gently show me the harsh judgmental ways of my heart. I was describing a recent confrontation I'd had with a very dear friend who bluntly told me, "You're harsh." At the time, I was easily frustrated with other people, even my closest friends - either they did/said/believed things that I didn't agree with so I'd let them know (not in the kindest way, mind you), or they fell short of my expectations of who they should be so I'd bite at them or be extraordinarily rude. Deep down I knew this behavior was wrong - the Holy Spirit was showing me so - but I didn't understand why and when apathy set in, I didn't even try to understand what was happening. I thought that I had this weird way of seeing everyone else's junk way better than my own for a special reason, like I was supposed to declare some warning to everyone I know (believe me - pride will convince you of the stupidest things).

As I talked and vented about my frustrations, Lois listened and pulled out her Bible. She asked me to do the same and turn to John 21. I thought she was going to point to Peter's denial of Christ after the rooster crowing. Instead, she told me how she thought some people overlooked Peter's journey of faith and how her study of him throughout the Bible meant so much to her daily walk. This is the passage where Peter professes his love for Jesus three times. She asked me to read verses 15-17 out loud.

Verse 15: When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.”

Verse 16: He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.”

Verse 17: He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

When I was finished, she asked if I loved Jesus. My immediate response was yes, of course. If you're familiar with this passage in John 21, you know what happens next. I am almost sure that I'd read this passage but as I sat there with Lois, my pride kept my vision so hazy; I didn't know what Lois was getting at. I thought to myself, "What does this have to do with being judgmental or recognizing sin?" She asked me to continue reading at verse 20.

Verses 20-22: Peter turned and saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them, the one who had been reclining at table close to him and had said, “Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?”  When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?”  Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!”

I couldn't say those last three words out loud; my throat was tight and the tears flowed. Though I loved the Lord, I spent all my energy looking at everyone else. To borrow a metaphor from my pastor, it's as if I stood next to the cross, with my back to it, pointing at everyone else and demanding that they humble themselves. It was a major revelation to me - to begin to see myself more realistically before the cross was a new experience. And, as if the moment couldn't be any more revelatory, Lois sat and cried with me. She got that this was a big mind/heart-shifting thing for me. She showed extreme compassion and grace to me in that moment.

Please don't hear me say that I'm not judgmental and I'm cured! I still battle the green monster in me and my pride overwhelms me sometimes. I'm still a little rough around the edges. I get very passionate when someone dismisses issues that they don't understand with a "I don't struggle with that" statement, meaning they don't make an effort to avoid temptation in that realm (which, by the way, is the biggest load of horsecrap that I've ever heard! It's exactly what evil wants you to believe!). I genuinely do not want others to fall into traps that I've fallen into myself. I don't want to be harsh but I also do not want to willingly stand by as people walk into the furnace. In fact, one of the reasons I asked to be a part of my church's Lay Counseling class is so that I can learn to speak the truth in love.

Anyhow, I think I got off on a tangent.

I am often reminded of that session with Lois and the words "You follow me!" whenever I read or hear anything about the apostle Peter, like this post by Jon Bloom at Desiring God. Peter really did love the Lord but he had a very tough time letting go of the Pharisaic and cultural routines/beliefs. He also had a lot of pride, something I think I've proved I can resonate with. Peter missed the mark - a lot - when trying to figure out what Jesus was doing in His ministry. Jon uses the first part of John 13 to show Peter's confusion and near-unwillingness to be a part of Jesus's radical new covenant. I can't choose one good quote in the article, I like the entire thing, so go check it out for yourself.

I don't have this thing figured out. I do get overwhelmed occasionally; sometimes it seems like I've taken one step forward only to take two steps back. I do not understand now what the Lord is accomplishing in me, in my friends, in my family, in this city, in this world. However, grace and comfort sweeps in with that bold statement, "You follow me!" I don't have to figure the purpose out. I trust in His ways. I know He is victorious in the end. I know He is good.

If you take anything from this too-long post, take these three words: God is good. A countless number of my nights have been illuminated with those three words. Though you may wrestle to understand what they mean to you, He is faithful and will not fail to be good even if/when you don't fully grasp this truth.

"And if I bleat, and bolt? Still with me."

Jenni posted something great today about our metaphorical valleys. Here's an excerpt:

"The valley is arrived at in an instant. An illness. An accident. Bad news dropping–no matter how gently–from the lips of a doctor, falling like a blanket of ash upon your soul. The valley is entered. The volcano has blown. There is no water, no sustenance, no warmth. We cannot see the way out. We can only stumble along, trusting in the grip of the One who never lacks sight.

Check out the rest of the post here.

P.S. Did I ever tell you that Jenni's the reason why I read (and started my own) blogs today? Hmmmm. Guess I should have mentioned that before!

Raw

Please forgive me in advance if this is a bit scrambled or rambling.

I just came upon a picture post of a blog I have read for nearly a year now. The blog has been around for several years; a young mother of four speaks with witty insights and sweet memories of her children and amazing husband. Exactly one year ago Saturday, she and her husband were in a horrible plane accident while on a small weekend getaway. I think there were three or four people on the flight; she and her husband survived. He emerged from the wreckage badly burned but expecting her to already be out. When he realized she was still in the plane, he went back and pulled her out, causing even more severe burns to himself than he had already received. She was badly burned on almost every surface of her body.

I share all of this to tell you that I am so very humbled and inspired by her journey. Over the last year I have read on as despair tried so fervently to take her over. Little children don't always understand these tragedies and her kiddos and husband are her crowning glory. They both have spent months in rehabilitation and surgeries; though at some times I am sure she would say her hope was not strong, I have seen remarkable faith on her part in the healing process. She has a beautiful family; it has been a privilege to pray for her and see her taking steps daily towards her new "normal".

In memoriam of the accident and the live(s) that was/were lost, she and her husband (and many others, I am sure) hiked the mountain where the accident took place. Today, also, she posted the very first picture of herself since the accident. She is radiant. No wretched despair can hold her back; the joy and love in her shines through her eyes and her smile. I sat speechless at the confidence at which she lives. I am truly humbled and reminded of what I should be grateful for; the meaningless, trivial things that will fall away should be left behind now.

Will you take a moment and just reflect on your concerns/worries? What are they? Who do they affect? What happened that made these things so heavy on your mind and heart? Are they worth all the obesessing and anxiety? Where do your hope and joy lie?

I promise that I will be thinking on these things tonight and this evening with you. Tears spill over easily already just running through the silly things I allow to rule my thoughts. Lord forgive me and help me.

*If you'd like to know the blog name, let me know and I'll point you in the right direction. I don't want to broadcast her blog or pictures here out of respect for her and her family.

My steps to stupid

I was busy laughing my head off a few minutes ago while reading SCL (#576, in particular, had me giggly) when I got to one of Jon's serious Wednesday posts. Jon is a great writer - he has the unique ability to write the way that people think. Or, maybe, he writes the way that I think. I don't know. But in either case, I am never surprised when I stumble across a post that reminds me of my own mindset or behavior.

That's why, when I stopped laughing and started reflecting on #566, I realized I needed to post about the message. In not so many words, he wrote about "steps to stupid" or things that are indicative of a wayward attitude. He reminded me of the recent tugging on my conscience to be mindful of what I'm doing with my time. My pastor has talked about this same thing before on one of the church blogs; the things that do not stir affection for Christ. So, here you go - I'm going to mention some things that can easily be defined, when indulged in, as my "steps to stupid".

1. Mindless TV watching
2. Overeating
3. Excessive isolation
4. Movies/TV/books with dramatic romance
5. Missing church services
6. More than 2 drinks at happy hour
7. Idle conversation
8. Gossip - anywhere (work, home, church, etc)
9. Fantasyland
10. Comparing myself to others

I admit that there are both basic (i.e. applicable for all Christians) and personal (i.e. applicable for just me as far as I know) items on this list. Some are universal thieves of affection for Christ; others are definitely true for me but not necessarily everyone. I won't spend time categorizing the items because, honestly, I don't know your heart and I've been a part of some disagreements on this topic. This verse always comes to mind when I reflect on this topic:

Philippians 4:8 - "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things."

I put my actions, thoughts, words, motivations, choices, plans - everything - up against this verse. If I cannot say with a pure heart that what I will do/have done lines up with this verse, then it goes onto my "steps to stupid" list. "Stupid" is a bad, lonely, sad, angry place to be. I want to avoid it like the plague. More than even that, though, I want to pay very careful attention to these things, and others yet to be revealed, so that my affection is stirred for Christ, not squashed. He is my goal, He is my treasure; in Him I live and move and have my being - not in a list of goods and bads - just Him.

Look for my next post where I lay out a few things that stir my affections for Christ.

Until next time,
Ang

Indescribable

Discernment

I enjoy learning about spiritual gifts. It is one of the coolest things to see in the Church; people discovering their gifts and God using those gifts for His glory.

The Resurgence has been posting a series about spiritual gifts. I've really liked reading through them. Today, I finally got to read one that pertains to me: discernment.

Check out the whole series to date here.

Peace & chicken grease,
Ang