Lies war with truth.

It has been a hard month. Not in terms of circumstances - that has been ups and downs, like the rest of life. Rather, it has been a bit difficult in terms of my soul, my spirit... I have been struggling with self-esteem/self-worth/self-doubt, whatever term you want to use.

Self - esteem, especially in terms of my looks, has been a struggle for me since my early teens. It got so much better after I found that my identity comes not from who I am, but whose I am. I am a child of God, loved and treasured by Him. Most of the time, I am confident in that. I know who I am. I know that I seek after God with my whole heart. I know that He has given me certain gifts. I know that even if He didn't, I would still be loved.

However, these doubts seem to be my thorn. My trigger. My area in which the devil can come in and attack. He feeds me lies about my worth, about my abilities, about my looks... about every area, bringing in doubts that eat away at my confidence in Christ and my identity in Him. For some reason, I can't seem to shake it this time. At the end of a day, I realize that I have overanalyzed everything I've said, looking for mistakes I made or thinking about comments people made that somehow I make out to be negative. And at the end of the day, I realize that I have let my joy walk out the door as soon as I let the doubts walk in. I don't know if you've faced these types of doubts before, but they shake you. They make life harder. Doubts pervade until all else is driven out and that is the only voice you hear.

Why? Why do I do this every time? Why can't I stand strong in who God made me to be?

When will I stand up and say 'enough!'?

God promises me joy. My heavenly Father calls me beautiful. He showers me with gifts that show His love and His grace. And He will grant me grace and the strength to get through this. To reject the lies, instead rejoicing in the truths that God gives me. He will bring beauty when all I see in myself is brokenness. I will trust "that He who has begun a good work will finish it unto completion," that I am "the apple of His eye," that I am "fearfully and wonderfully made."

I will proclaim truth.

Be grateful.

It is 2 a.m. (well, 1:58 to be precise).

I think strange things at night, when my dorm is sleeping... all is dark and quiet. As I finished up homework and finally started to ready for bed, I somehow started to think about what my thoughts will be at the end of this school year. In seven short weeks (although I know at times they will feel long), my B.A., my time in dorm - it will be over. I'm back at Redeemer for a final year to finish my second degree, my B.Ed., but it won't be the same. I have cherished my time here. It has been fun. It has been hard. It has been laughter, and tears, and growth.

So, when I am finished this season, what will I think?

I think my thoughts will sound something like this: "To my Dorm 28 girls - Thank you. Thank you for being part of my journey and letting me be part of yours. We walked through some really tough stuff, but we never walked alone, supported by each other and by our Heavenly Father who unites us. We cried  We laughed. A lot! The sound of your laughter is precious to me. I feel incredibly honored to have been a part of it all. You have all taught and grown and blessed me in very unique ways, and I love you. To my roommate of four years - where to even begin? We've lived together long enough that you can probably predict the words out of my mouth better than I can. So rather than attempt it, know that I love you beyond words and that you have been a true expression of Christ's love to me on innumerable occasions. Insert a whole ton of laughter, some tears, and a ridiculous amount of inside jokes that are funny to us but probably so stupid to everyone else, and you pretty much have it. Thank you so much for being the incredible friend that you are. To my neighbors, thank you - we had so much fun! I promise to not steal anymore oven doors, although the blame for that still lies squarely on Mel. To my friends, to everyone in this community that has made these four years so special, thank you. How blessed am I!"

This reflection on future reflections may seem a bit odd, but as I was thinking about it, I realized that thinking now about thinking in the future about thinking back (make sense of that, I dare you!) makes me see God's faithfulness, His love, and His innumerable blessings over not only this year, but all four years. I have been stretched and grown in leadership, in character, in trust, in faith, and in friendship, and Redeemer has been a huge part of it. I'm so glad that I'm not leaving for good quite yet.

This is a pretty long and sappy post, but it is a reminder to me. Be grateful. Live in the moment. God has given you that moment for a reason. These thoughts come after a week containing struggle and sadness as a family member suffered a loss. These thoughts come before a week in which my far-too-full agenda threatens to punch me in the face. Still - in this particular moment, I choose to be filled with gratitude for the wonderful people and experiences that God has blessed me with, and although a mountain of assignments looms directly in front of me, perilous and frightening, I still know I am blessed. The mountain is, in itself, a blessing. How can I not be thankful - the love of my Heavenly Father overwhelms me!

So I am grateful.

Today, Jesus...

I have a confession.

The skit guys said in one of their videos "If you're not moving towards God, you're moving away from Him." I think I moved away from Him this week. Oh, it wasn't intentional, and there wasn't really a cause. It just ... happened. I got busy - school piled up, birthdays were celebrated, and somehow, my priorities got all messed up! And I'm just realizing it now!

What brought me to this realization, you ask? Well, we were having dorm devos, and it was on how God made you in His image and is crafting you to be more like Him. We started with quiet time, and as I was praying, I realized that was the first time I had been truly quiet with God all week. I realized that I felt drained, that I had fallen back into wearing my masks of being who I thought others wanted me to be, of being dependable, and good, and the model Christian girl. And I had been feeling like a failure, so I had tried harder to atone for my failure.

Why is it that no matter how much grace is preached to me, and God whispers it in my heart, I always forget?

Galatians 5:1 says "Stand fast therefore in the liberty by which Christ has made us free, and do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage."

I got entangled again this week. A place of trying and trying and trying is NOT a place of freedom. God is still telling me to wait, and remain, and be still. Like five times during devos alone, with verses, and the cover of my Bible, and in devos, and in my heart. But I'm not doing that - so I've been stressed and overwhelmed and panicky - not outwardly (that's not my style) but in the little horrid voice inside my head that says "you can't do this; you will fail; and then you will let people down, and what will they think?"

Again, that is not a place of freedom.

After dorm devos, I came up to my room and spent time with God. How refreshing!!! Remind me again why I didn't make this a priority?! I read more of Galations. I prayed. I journaled. And I read Grace for the Good Girl, another chapter (which I'm pretty sure God had her write just for me), and at the end of it, the author relayed a story from her husband on a missions trip, who was a bit overwhelmed. However, he closed the conversation with "Today, Jesus wears overalls."

Well, that phrase - Today, Jesus ... - is now posted in my room in a couple different places. When I wake up in the morning, this is my usually monologue: "I have to edit that paper and read over that thing and call maintenance for the dorm and make sure I let the girls know about this and do readings for that other class and work on this project and go to work and mark those exams and don't forget to reply to that email about the FTA thing and you have a meeting with this person at two and you should follow up with that person about that thing they are struggling with ... and ... and ... "

Instead, I will say, "Today, Jesus wears a hoodie and jeans and pays attention in class. Today, Jesus edits that paper and reads over that thing and calls maintenance for the dorm. Today, Jesus in me will let  the girls know about that thing and does readings for that other class. Today, Jesus wears whatever is clean in the closet and works on that project and goes to work and marks those exams. Today, Jesus will remember to reply to that email about the FTA thing and has that meeting with this person at two. Today, Jesus can follow up with that person who is struggling."

Today, Jesus.

So much freedom in that phrase! I don't need to do everything anymore. I can take a backseat, let Jesus drive my life, let people see Him instead of me. "Christ in you, the hope of glory!" "It is not I that lives, but Christ that lives in me!" Today, Jesus.

I will struggle with identity again. I will struggle with my masks again. But God has and will forgiven me for times of failure and when I say, "Today Jesus will help me," He really will.

Waiting versus Passivity.

Life seems to be summed up in two hard words: Balance and Paradox. You are either stuck trying to find balance or you are trying to figure out the truth of a paradox (which is hard just because of the nature of a paradox). 

One of these that has come up so much to me recently is waiting versus passivity. The paradox is that we are called to wait but we are not to be passive. Where is the line there? How do you wait but still be active? 

Does that seem like a paradox to anyone else? Or is it just me?

Wikepedia's wiktionary defines waiting as: 

1. (transitive, now rare) To delay movement or action until the arrival or occurrence of; to await. (Now generally superseded by "wait for".) 
2. (intransitive) To delay movement or action until some event or time; to remain neglected or in readiness.

   Wait here until your car arrives.

   
   

It defines passivity as:

1. Being subjected to an action without producing a reaction.
2. Taking no action.

   He remained passive during the protest.

3. (grammar) Being in the passive voice.
4. (psychology) Being inactive and submissive in a relationship

The difference that I find here is that waiting is for or on or until. As Christians, we wait for God to move, we wait on God, we wait until God shows us what to do. On the other hand, passivity is just inactivity. It does not have a  purpose, and it does not respond or react. 

So what does this mean for me, waiting on God but still being active. Well, I'm active in waiting. I am actively expecting God to move; I am watching and listening to hear Him. Waiting on God does not mean I do nothing. It means I draw close to Him and choose to trust that His plan will be revealed when it should be and how it should be. I fight passivity - I fight the urge to just check out, to do it on my own, to worry. 

A little more on waiting - God gives similar commands when He says "remain," "stay," "abide," "rest." It is a matter of trust. Worrying is an automatic move out of God's presence and towards your old sinful flesh. Let God be the object of those 'remain, stay, abide, rest' verbs. Focus on the Father, actively seeking to spend time with Him, trusting that any other 'active' thing that He has called you to do, He will prepare the way. Trust that any need that you may be tempted to fill on your own, He will fill. If there is action for you to take, then you wait until He has told you about that action. 

This is so much easier to say (or type) than to do. There is a poem that ends like this - "When you can't see God's hand, trust His heart." This gets at the core of waiting, remaining, abiding, and resting. Value your relationship with God, and trust that anything else He has for you in this life will be a result of His blessing it and preparing you rather than a result of you going out and "making it happen." 

As trees walking.

(I said in my very first blog post that "Brokenness Aside" was mainly to give me a space, a way to organize what I write on different topics. Well, I write when things impact me: an experience, a verse, a conversation. Anything that I need structure to process.

I wrote this last year, during my third year, based off of a lectura divina exercise we did in my Psychology of Spirituality class. In lectura divina, a passage of Scripture is read several times; the listener is to absorb it, to see themselves in the story, to let it be that two-edged sword. In this particular case, I found it quite powerful.) 

Everyone is familiar with the story of Jesus healing the blind man. He took him out of the village, put saliva on his eyes, did it again, and he could see. End of story. But is it really that simple? There are so many possible lessons to this. Why did Jesus take him out of the village? Why did he tell him not to return to the village after, but just go home? Why did he use spit? Why in stages and not all at once? The answers to each of these questions can teach us something different—this isn't as black and white as it seems.

When I was made to put aside my contextualization and my biases and my prior learning of the text, to simply sit and listen to the words and let God speak to me through God's living and active Word, one phrase stood out— “I see men like trees walking.” I can't imagine the emotions the man felt at this moment. Joy, for this is more than he saw before. Hope—perhaps the healing would continue; maybe Jesus of Nazareth was all they said He was. Fear, that the healing would not continue—this this would be a teaser, a reminder of the beauty he was missing.

I feel often this way in the spiritual realm - I see things blurry, out of focus, not as they should be. I see men as trees walking. When something happens, something that is bad, wrong, hurtful, devastating, we can see some blurry images—perhaps we are not sure what they are, or we think we know but have a mixed image. We know in the blurriness that God has a purpose, that His glory will come, but we can't see it yet. We see only a glimpse, a dream, of what it could be. We see men as trees walking; we don't see the fullness or the details.

The second thing that struck me was the way Jesus responded. It was part of God's plan. He put his hand back on the man's eyes, and the man looked intently.

When I thought about how this part applied to me, two actions stood out. First, when we can't get a clear picture, when we only see the things right in front of us, and those things aren't even that clear, we need to wait for God's hand on the situation. That is what brings healing. That is what brings hope. Secondly, the man looked intently. He was not content with seeing men like trees. He strained his eyes; he yearned for more. As we wait for God's hand to move, we are not to be passive. The man didn't close his eyes and quit looking just because his vision wasn't clear! Look for ways that God is blessing through the storm, that His light peeps through our blindness.

And sight comes. And through the process, we have learned and grown.

As we wait and watch and perhaps gain clearer pictures of those events in the here and now, we also wait and watch for the glorious day when we see all as it should be. Paul says “For now I see through a glass darkly, but then I shall see face to face.” "

Men as trees walking. One line, but so powerful. How often do we take time to put aside our contextualization and our memories of the sermons we've heard preached on a passage and just let it sink into our soul? The Bible is God's love letter to us, written for His glory and our sanctification. 

This may be especially so when we are in that moment of grey. That moment of knowing about God's goodness but not seeing it. Of seeing men as trees walking. That is when we wait for God, seeking with the expectation that in His time, He lays His finger over our eyes, and we see.