GreaThings

I can't believe it's been nearly five months since I last sat down to write a blog post. This year has been flying so fast that I feel like I'm hanging onto the outside of a bus for dear life while time tries to blow me away. There have been so many changes, so many new lessons - and a constant rain of blessings. God has proved Himself faithful in every situation, and I'm in awe of what He has been doing in my heart and life this year.

Such a year definitely warrants some reflection. Which is why I decided to join a group of people who will spend two weeks this month sharing how God has blessed their lives this year. The event is called GreaThings. Starting November 8, we'll share a new blessing each day, either on our blogs or another platform. I'm really looking forward to this time of remembering!

Has God blessed you this year? I'd love to hear what He has done for you! Join us?

Answers

A contemplative mood came over me tonight. My mind wandered back to the times in my life I've faced a big decision. I remembered my desperate groping for answers, the long periods of waiting, the gut-twisting uncertainty. And all of a sudden I realized just how wise God was to delay the answer, and take me on a journey.

"This, or that?"

I scratch my head.

All of my reasons, so carefully formed

Still crumble into uncertainty.

How can I be sure?

I throw up my hands - it's too hard!

Why can't You write it on a wall?

Send an angel?

Give me a sign?

Why are You silent?

As I stand, hesitating,

Trembling at a fork in the road,

I wonder why You always ask me to wait.

But maybe -

Just maybe -  it's not about the answer.

What if -

It's about the process?

Giving a deep desire to God

Over

And over

And over again.

Watching Him change my thinking,

Bringing my wavering will

Into harmony with His own.

Solid and sure.

Discovering a part of me I didn't know existed.

Good, or bad.

Developing it, or rooting it out.

Becoming a stronger person.

Reveling in the nearness of my God,

His goodness,

His unutterable love,

His intense interest in my life.

The answer fades in importance.

Eventually, it will come;

That is not my concern.

I lose so much when,

Obsessed with the destination,

I do not throw myself whole-heartedly into the journey.

Be Still

2011 is no more. It's hard to believe it's really gone. Last year was full to the brim! So many miracles. So many answers to prayer. So many lessons learned. So many new adventures. It's like saying goodbye to a cherished friend.

Peering ahead, I'm not sure how to feel about 2012. Excited? Scared? I can't see what this year holds. But I do know that more than anything else, I want to walk every step of 2012 with God.

I'm not one of those people that makes a long list of new year's resolutions. I used to, but discouragement always took over as months of struggling in my own strength yielded more failures than successes. Daily listening for God's voice and taking up the goals and challenges He presents to me--New Year's or not--brings me much more peace. But as I contemplate my desire to walk closer with God this year than last, I can't help but resolve one thing:

Be still, and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10).


I can't get that verse out of my mind. And the more I think about it, the more profound its message becomes. I don't know when last you read Psalm 46, but it is by no means a quiet chapter.

Waters roar.
Mountains shake.
The heathen rage.
Kingdoms move.
God speaks--the earth melts.
He make wars cease,
                breaks bows,
                      snaps spears,
                            burns chariots.

And then--suddenly, Be still. God is in the thick of the action, and what am I supposed to do? Hurl myself into the fray?

Be still.


Be still, and know that I am God. Not "see." Not "understand." But "know." Experience.


This command is so much more than instruction to spend daily quiet time with God, although I have no doubt it includes that. It's as if God is saying, "Surrender the battle. Be still. Experience My power working in and through you. Know that I am God."

All my life I've struggled with self, and I know that it will not leave me in peace just because it's a new year. If anything, Satan will double his efforts to stir up the selfishness in me, and instigate far greater battles than I've experienced. But this year I'm praying God will teach me one thing:

To be still, and know that He is God.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow!

Wait… Tomorrow? Seriously? Somehow my brain doesn't want to register the fact. It's used to "maybe next month." But "tomorrow"?

Am I really going to spend tomorrow morning packing up my suitcases for the last time? Am I really going to drive to the airport--international terminal, not domestic? Am I really going to spend 36 (sigh) hours winging my way past three continents? Am I really going back to an awesome job, wonderful friends, and a (hopefully) sparkly white world?

It all feels so unreal. I'm excited, and yet I'm not. It's hard to believe tomorrow won't be just another ordinary day. And yet it's the day I've been anticipating for over 16 months.

It's funny how you can look forward to something for so long, but when it finally arrives, you're almost afraid to reach out and take it. I'm going to miss so much. The best family anyone could ask for. The big open skies and wild bushveld. A certain farm called Island View. No doubt about it--I'll always be an African girl at heart.

But new adventures are beckoning from this latest curve in the road. New experiences, new friends, new challenges, new opportunities to grow and serve God. I don't know what the next few years will bring. But I do know one thing: I am not alone. The God who led, carried, and sometimes dragged me through the past 16 months is with me still. I couldn't have asked for a more faithful Guide, a more tender Friend.

Tomorrow. Together. God and I embark on a new journey. Bring it on! 

Letting Go

It's so easy to accumulate head knowledge. After all the reading I've done in my (ahem) impressive 20 years of life, I've amassed a fair amount of it. And yet, especially when it comes to spiritual things, there is the inevitable--that moment (day, week, month, or even year) where God reaches into my comfortable pile of ideas, and begins to twist one into my personal experience. Sometimes painful. Sometimes sweet. Always deepening my trust in Him.

The lesson God's been twisting away at this week? Letting go. (Also known as surrender.)

"Letting go" is not really letting go when something means nothing to me. To truly let something go is to relinquish something precious.

Letting go is not pushing a dream into a vacuum and watching it float away. It is holding it out with open hands and saying, "God, I'm trusting You with this dream."

Letting go is not a once-off release. It's a continual choice to stand still and let God organize my circumstances.

Letting go not only means surrendering my dreams and desires, but also giving up my "right" to indulge in self-pity and anxiety because things aren't working out exactly as I planned. I love Eric Ludy's definition of self-pity:


Self-pity [self-pit-ee] -- the juicy and oddly satisfying feeling that you personally are the most unlucky, unfortunate, and uncared for human on planet Earth; the very clear sense that you personally are getting a raw deal in life and that the universe...is out to do you in.

Even a hint of that, especially with the intent of convincing others of my "unfortunateness," shouts out that I didn't really let go in the first place.

At it's core, letting go is simply a relinquishing of self. And yet it's one of the hardest things in the world to do. In fact, I may even go so far as to say it is THE hardest thing in the world to do.

Ironically, though, letting go of self is the only way to peace and rest. "It is the love of self that brings unrest" (The Desire of Ages, page 330). When I'm completely empty, there is finally enough room for God to come and fill me with His presence. And nothing, nothing self has ever offered can compare with the peace that God brings. It's like an "Ahhh" moment of the soul. Something like the sigh you give when you drop into a comfy chair, or lean into the warm arms of a loved one.

And sometimes… sometimes letting go is all God asks before He returns the dream to waiting, open hands. When you demonstrate that you can trust your dreams completely to God, you prove that God can trust you with them as well. Of course, it's not always the case. But sometimes God was the one who put the dream in your heart to begin with.

Love Notes

A ticklish breeze,

Smoothing strands of hair across my cheek

With cool caresses

Leaves the sweet reminder,

I love you.

A fiery orb,

Blazing through the banks of valiant cloud

In brilliant color

Swells the joyous chorus,

I love you.

An unexpected blessing,

Dancing past the rut of daily living

With laughing grace

Bursts in with the message,

I love you.

Two smiling eyes,

Looking into mine, accepting, caring,

Without condemning

Reflect the tender heart-cry,

I love you.

A quiet thought,

Flooding every crevice of my soul

With perfect peace,

Thrills me with assurance,

I love you.

"How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand" (Psalm 139:17, 18).

Who Am I?

"Who am I?"

The question enters,

Lingers,

Drills into my soul,

Cries out for an answer.

I stare at the mirror.

Somewhere,

Inside the reflection,

"Me" hides.

Who am I?

What defines me?

Emotions? Please God, no.

Fluctuating in form and size

Like clouds darting across life's sky;

Not to be trusted.

Thoughts?

Battling inside me,

Sensible one day, ridiculous the next.

Desires?

Unruly, impatient,

Struggling beneath the hands of will and reason.

My past?

A herd of memories,

Some pleasant,

Others, looming shadows.

Panic grips me.

Everything inside, stained with self,

Shrugs.

If this is me…

I can't bear the thought.

I look away.

My heart jumps--He is here,

Smiling,

Hands outstretched,

Hope in His eyes.

And then I know.

The question releases its choking grip.

Sweet freedom!

A lightness floods me

Like sunshine filling a dark valley.

He defines me.

Everything I am not,

Unselfishness incarnate,

Made sin for me--

That I might be made all that He is.

The mirror forgotten,

I slip my hand in His,

Overjoyed.

"For to me to live is Christ."