Faithfulness.

So often in these situations, I want to quit. Throw in the towel. Give up completely. I replay in my mind time after time when I've been in the exact same moment, dealing with the same pain, the same disappointment. I wonder if it'll ever go away, or more importantly, if it's even worth waiting out to see. I feel desperate, and worse, I feel alone.

And every time, without fail, Jesus, you step in. You speak words of love to me. You remind me that you will never leave or forsake me. That you are the lifter of my head, and the strength of my life. That you are with me. That you will sustain me. That you hear me. That you care. That you are working things out, even though I may not see it just yet.

And that is more than enough for me.

For your faithfulness, Jesus, thank you. I absolutely adore you.

by grace through faith

Brother Phil's sermon this morning was such a beautiful reminder to me of some things God has been teaching me. In a nutshell: we cannot live lives pleasing to God in our own power; we must allow His power to work through us. Ephesians 2:8-9 tells us that it is only by God's grace we are saved, not by our own works, so that no one has any room to boast. By God's grace we received Christ. Paul writes in Colossians, "just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him." (Colossians 2:6) By grace through faith we received him. By grace through faith we walk with him daily, not striving in our own strength, but, as Paul writes, "struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me." (Colossians 1:29)

Understanding this truth brings such freedom. It is not by any merit of my own, but only because of Christ in me, that I have the hope of glory. Legalism perishes, and I am left to follow Jesus with reckless abandon, by grace through faith.

The Lord will receive me.

Last night I nearly had a meltdown.

I won't go into all the details, but I was feeling neglected. I'm leaving the country in two months, and I've had almost no quality time with my family for a while. Tears were filling my eyes, and I started to turn the music up to blast out my own thoughts. Instead I turned it off completely, and began talking to God. I asked him, as I will admit I so often do, why? Why is my family broken like it is? Why couldn't things have worked out differently? And why do they seem to be steadily getting worse? This is hard, God.

A Scripture reference popped into my head, seemingly from thin air. Psalm 27:10. I had a sneaking suspicion of what it was, but I wasn't certain. I headed to the church's prayer room and opened my Bible. Yep.

"Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me."

Amazing how God reminds me that He's there. Even when I feel like no one is - or when truly, no one is. He is my father. And He loves me. And even when those I love the most forsake me, He receives me with open arms. And puts new songs of joy in my heart. Thank you, Daddy!

My heart says seek His face, I will seek your face, I will seek your face. My desire is to be with you, in your dwelling place, in your dwelling place. You're my God....you're my God. I will not fear, my salvation is here. You are my light, you are the strength of my life.

No one reads this anyway.

So I suppose I can use the space how I want. Finally I have begun to admit, to myself and to others, that I am struggling with depression. I have been for a very long time, but have been in deep denial, due to my own pride and desire to maintain a healthy image in front of others, as well as a plethora of reasons I had contrived to explain away all of the sleepless nights, lost weight, lack of appetite, irritability, disinterest, inability to focus, and desire to do nothing except curl up under the covers in my purple bed and sleep.

Just for the record: depression is not prolonged sadness. It's not something that can be "fixed" with ice cream or hugs or shoe shopping, or a good night's rest (which can be pretty hard to come by when you're depressed, anyway). If it were that easy, then I would have already fixed it. I'm a fairly smart and resourceful girl. I just finished Sylvia Plath's the bell jar - which one of my friends informed me was not beneficial reading material for a depressed person - and her description of depression made so much sense to me. Depression is like being stifled, suffocated in stale air, 'til all one's life and breath and energy is gone. It's a heaviness under which even the simplest tasks can appear insurmountable.

God and I have been back and forth lately. I know he can do anything, he could merely speak one word in his infinite power and heal my mind completely, once and for all. And I asked him why he won't - to be completely transparent, I have begged and pleaded for him to do so - to which I received no response. I realize God has an amazing knack for taking our human pain, trials, and suffering, and turning them into something beautiful that brings glory to his name. This is a skill for which I have always admired him greatly. I just hate that he insists on doing it in my life at the present time (and I hate that it is most likely a roundabout answer to some prayer or another of my very own, one of those prayers for patience or something of the sort). I also realize that I should probably be a bit more mature by this point in my journey, and just endure this hardship I'm going through with grace and poise. Instead I find myself falling to pieces at every turn. I tend to be messy when it comes to these types of things. Knowing God, and knowing he knows this about me, that's probably even part of his master plan - if I'm constantly broken, I'm dependent on him in a way I wouldn't be otherwise. So although it's currently quite hard for me to muster up emotion, there has been a different kind of intimacy between us lately that could be the cause for true rejoicing.

In his sermon this morning, the guest pastor shared a story that spoke directly to me. A man fell into a deep cavern and was trapped there for several weeks without food or water before he was found and rescued. When asked in an interview how he held out for so long, alone in such darkness, he replied that he could see a tiny pinpoint of light at the top and it gave him hope. I immediately placed myself in that story, in the depths of a cavern with darkness closing in all around. Right now, all I can see is a speck of light high above - but it's there, and it's enough.

I'm not giving up.

i'm 22....

and just beginning to figure out who i am. which is funny, because some people seem to know all about me somehow. i had a long conversation with one of those people today, and it calmed my heart a little.

i am idealistic. because of this i have unrealistic expectations of myself. i set ridiculous goals and beat myself up when i can't reach them. i also always have to understand why...to see how all the pieces fit together to make the whole, to grasp why certain conclusions have been accepted instead of others. in every situation, i analyze and scrutinize and examine all the information before i'll even dare make a decision about it. even my risks are calculated.

for a while i've been discouraged because i haven't been disciplined or consistent enough in my walk with God. my friend challenged me to think about this: what is "enough?" i am not up to par in my spiritual life - by whose standards? faith by its very nature is a journey, a process...and you can't measure its progress in calculable, human terms. as much as i may want it to be, my faith is not and can never be a checklist. i need to relax a little, and view this as a relationship and not some formula i can solve - that way if i'm overlooking a variable it won't wreck my world when i find it later. i won't have to start from scratch every time i come to something that doesn't fit in my box.

i never really wanted to be one of those people. but i have been all along. go figure.

now what do i do?

walking just won't get it...

i'm running. if i can't walk then i'll crawl, and i'll get up if i fall, gotta get to where you are. i'm running, and i won't stop for nothing. it gets hard but it's worth it when it's you, Lord, that i want.

discipline

is something i don't have enough of, something that God has been speaking to me about big time lately. it's time for my life to be disciplined.

the analogies that the apostle paul used for the Christian life tell how important discipline is in the life of a believer - it's a race, and we are runners with a purpose and a prize in mind. it's a fight and we are not beating the air. it's a battle, the enemy is real and we must train and put on our full armor daily.

since i've started running more consistently, the running analogy has become more solid in my mind. every run is important when you're training - especially on the days when you don't feel like it, when you'd rather just skip it and sleep in. and if you skip it one day, it's easier to skip the next day, and the next, until before you know it, it's been weeks since your last run. in my life, i've found the same to be true of my time with the Lord. every day is important, and the days when i least feel like reading the word are the days when it's absolutely essential. and it's so easy to quit altogether after just one day slacking, and then weeks later wonder what went wrong.

not anymore. i'm ready for some serious spiritual training. let's go.