Trust

I call this part of my life "Trusting."

Somewhere in the past six months the voice of God ceased whispering "Wait. Rest. Heal." into my heart and began to whisper "Trust. Believe. Follow." instead. The problem and beauty of the whisper is that you don't hear it unless you're listening. I tend to set myself upon a path and cling to it like a bulldog with his bone. Tenacity is my greatest strength and toughest weakness. I'm really great at big decisions. Where to go to college? What degree? Quit my job? Start a business? Mission trip? Go to seminary? Man, I can rock those out, and it's not that I have some special insight...it's that I have time. Time to question and search, to wonder and wrestle, to research and receive counsel. So when I make a big decision, I know that I know that I know it's right, and though it may be hard I'm ready to act on it, I can find the faith to follow through (wow, I'm so alliterative today).

But small decisions, things that should be simple, minor, not life-altering? Those are the hardest thing for me to settle on. Maybe it's because I believe there is nothing small, everything has significance, and you never know what small action will change your life in a big way. I don't want to do something small that ends up being hugely wrong down the road. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those that walks about regretting every poor decision. You make mistakes, you learn the lessons, you embrace the past and move on. But I can't help but want the absolute best for my life, God's absolute best. 

I believe in communion, walking with God every step along the way, acknowledging that our decisions, great or small, reflect on Him, and trying to live righteously, but with reckless abandon. Righteous in integrity, reckless with regard to the cares of this world. But I am such a doubting Thomas. I find it easy-ish to believe in God Almighty's bigness, His absolute ability to be all that He is. I am not troubled by the identity of Jesus, that He was God, loved me, died and rose again (though I absolutely do not pretend to have God figured out, don't misunderstand me). But I am totally puzzled and mystified by the Holy Spirit. It is immensely difficult for me to trust His working in my life, because I so easily confuse His voice with my own, or that of the enemy.

So, right now God is teaching me to trust Him in the little things. If I am walking with Him, daily in His word, constantly in prayer, and I take a moment to pause and ask His will in the little moments and problems of my life (as well as in the big ones) can I not trust that He answers? That the voice I hear gently whispering is His? That He is indeed not a God of confusion but of peace, one who's name is Near, who is found by us when we seek?

The Adventure of Becoming

All because of one encounter. One question. One e-mail. 

Even though I feel like God has so clearly directed me into the next step of seminary for an MA in Intercultural Studies and Global Apologetics (it would make me feel better if that acceptance letter would come!), I've felt ridiculously unclear about how I'm supposed to use that for the Kingdom.

Here is what I know about myself:

I am NOT and never will be a musician. 

But some of my dearest friends are.

I am NOT extremely or overtly creative. 

But I get along well with dramatic, artistic people.

I do NOT have fantastic business sense. 

But I know great people who do.

I am NOT really a techie. 

But I absolutely love my group of friends who are great at this.

I am NOT cut out to work day in, day out in "church world." 

But I've grown up in it and truly appreciate those who are there.

I am NOT a super-extrovert. 

But I am really good at blending in to almost any environment.

(Are you sensing a theme yet?)

I AM the person most people like, but rarely understand. 

I AM the one with the split personality, stuck right in between introvert and extrovert, thinker and feeler, driven and easy going.

I AM the one with the spiritual gifts of prophecy, exhortation and compassion (talk about an oxymoron!)

I AM a free spirit who has a hard time with being classified and harder still with being tied down to one course, but I AM also fiercely loyal to those I love and what I know is right. 

Yep, I'm the walking contradiction, the one who can do a little of a lot just well enough to make people think I could go far in it, but without the true joy in doing it that actually makes me want to go far. And that's always been frustrating. I mean, I can't tell you how many times I've wished I could be good at just ONE thing so that I'd know THAT was what I was supposed to be doing. Instead I've been stuck trying to force myself into a course of action that makes good, logical sense, but denies the essence of who God created me to be.

I think God has let me dabble in a lot of things, walk through a lot of ministry situations, live in and visit many places, and know many types of people so that I can have a broader base of understanding from which to operate, not grow more confused on what I'm supposed to be doing.

What I realized today is that it is more than OK to be who I am, to be great at intangibles and only good at other things. It's more than OK to not be good at fitting the molds so many people want me to fill of artist, businesswoman, wife (my poor husband, whoever he is). What I've needed was not simply the direction to head in, but the courage to accept who I am and move forward into the adventure of becoming. 

In tough economic and spiritual times what comes next is the least logical course of action. But I feel strangely unafraid. In fact, I really don't care what anyone thinks of me at this point. I don't want to waste my life. And I will do whatever I have to in order to share the hope of Jesus with the world that desperately needs it, in the way that I, and only I have been gifted to do. 

THERE IS NOTHING ELSE THAT MATTERS. 

Philippians 3:7-14

The Sweetest Moments

Some of the most cherished moments in my life are the unexpectedly tender ones.

This weekend I'm staying with my "big brother," Brett, dear friend, Becca, and my "psuedo-niece," Juliana. Since Brett and Becca had a leadership training session to attend at church, Cricket and I have spent the evening babysitting Juliana. This involved lots of Cricket's slimy squeaky toy, making pancakes in her play kitchen, and dancing along with the Teletubbies (oh yes). 

When it was time to be tucked in for bed tonight Juliana said her prayers, most of which I couldn't quite understand (although I did catch, "and for Cricket to be healthy" which made me giggle a little because it is perfectly logical for a three-year-old. I mean, everyone else around here seems to be coming down with this or that bug, and Cricket is her self-proclaimed "bes fwend," so it follows she would be concerned for her health), and asked me to sing Tender Shepherd. I barely know this song, but I've picked up enough from previous visits to be able to follow along with her. Next she asked me to snuggle. I mean, who can resist "Anna, wiwl you snuggle with me?" I'm quite the snuggler anyways.

We're snuggling away and as I play with her long, baby fine hair and stroke her little hands I couldn't help but think back to the day she was born. I remember holding her and just thinking God must have something so big in mind for her. Every baby is a miracle, but Juliana's birth was particularly special. She was welcomed to the world by emergency c-section a mere six minutes after a placental abruption (basically, the placenta is detached and the baby is no longer receiving oxygen from the mother's blood stream). Even a minute later and she could have suffered severe brain damage, a couple minutes and she would have died. In fact, every last detail about the entire situation was so clearly ordered by God that we were all in awe of His grace that day. 

All of this is going through my mind when I hear a sweet little whisper, "I love you Anna. Can we sing Oh How I Love Jesus?" 

A month ago today Juliana accepted Jesus as her Savior. I know not everyone thinks this is possible for a three-year-old, but I was only four and I absolutely know how real and true it was for me. So after hearing the whole story my soul was dizzy with joy. As precious as the miracle of her birth was, the miracle of her second birth is more wonderful still. 

I lay there beside her with tears in my eyes, the two of us singing: There is a name I love to hear, I love to sing it's worth. It sounds like music in my ear, the sweetest name on earth. Oh, how I love Jesus! Oh, how I love Jesus! Oh, how I love Jesus! Because He first loved me" over and over. Each time I sang the words it felt like the warmth of the sun pouring over my heart. 

He first loved me! There is no chasing with God. No wondering. No ifs, ands, buts or maybes. There is only absolute, endless, unconditional love. It is simple. It is passionate. It is sweet. It is eternal. Even little Juliana can understand and accept this without reservation. That moment was so innocent and pure. Those words were so wonderful and true. I don't know that I've ever had a more beautiful, precious moment of worship than I had tonight. 

Just some heart wanderings

These thoughts are nothing new for me, but I've found the best thing to do is to get them out into some tangible form where they can be sorted through and maybe not be so overwhelming and joyfully painful.

Africa has so infiltrated my person that I feel as though something vital of me is missing. It's not that I feel like I'm supposed to up and move there (though the thought of that doesn't frighten me). It's just the feeling you get when a relationship you invested a lot of your heart into ends, like a piece of you is irrecoverable, and you have something of them always with you, always haunting you.

When I turn on my mac, faces of beautiful Ugandan children greet me. When I sit in church all alone on Sunday mornings I can feel their little bodies pressed up against me as tightly as they could, all around me, two and three deep on my lap. When I close my eyes to sleep at night I hear that stupid South African rooster outside my window, and I think about mosquitoes and the faces of all the precious people I met who were dying of malaria and AIDS play back one by one while I wonder if they are still among the living.

Yesterday I opened a notebook to jot down a thought and found my notes from this past summer. The names of every single person who we spoke to in the villages and IDP camps was listed with notes beside them. Rose, 30s, afraid to believe because of husband...Michael, 30s, seeking answers...Lucky, 18, my new sister in Christ...I remember those moments so clearly, the emotions attached to them. The pain of the rejection of my sweet Jesus, their only hope. The unexplainable joy of leading a sister to His feet.

But Africa is just one example of the ways in which I feel this. A similar experience greets me when I think of how the modern American church is content to pursue so many things but the face of God. How desperately I long for our nation and world to become reconciled to Him, to revel in His glory and simply delight in His presence. In so many ways it feels as though my heart is breaking, and then I spend honest moments with Him and am filled with such peace and joy that I feel as though I'm glowing from the inside out. I wonder if this is what it means to mourn in order to receive comfort.

If only I could find a way to give a voice to the voiceless and help the blind to see.

Unplugging, Turning Down, Signing Off

It is quite possible that I am the weirdest media person ever. I think most of it is totally unnecessary, a waste of time at best, damaging to our hearts and minds at worst.

Don't get me wrong. I am a fan of my Mac, I enjoy reconnecting with people over Facebook, watching The Office and typing my thoughts here. But I'm growing annoyed with technology and media in general.

Today I began deleting my Myspace account (involves changing my e-mail account, so it's taking longer than normal). I also checked out Twitter and made the definitive decision to decline. I mean, do I REALLY need to know everything everyone is thinking and doing right now? No, no I don't. Because it's important to my roomie now, I have cable. But I'm turning the TV off far more than on these days, and Jen and I have already decided against adding cable when we move. I downgraded my smart phone to a simple, every day cell phone. Not that I wouldn't love an iphone, but seriously, not important. AIM? A thing of the past. Skype? Even though my best friend is in Spain for 4 months, I can't seem to bring myself to the point of actually signing up.

With the way I've been frustrated and seem to be shunning technology and downgrading at a rapid pace, it's making me seriously consider why I got into this field to begin with. I mean, I don't think I'm clinging to a romanticized version of the "good ole days," I just don't see the need to entertain myself constantly. Or to be privy to the intimate details of everyone's lives at any given moment. Let's be honest, we have an epidemic of acceptable voyerism and an insatiable appetite for entertainment in our culture, and increasingly our world. I find less and less satisfaction there.

What I love about media, what drew me to it in the very beginning, is the ability it offers to tell a story, to provide a voice to someone who might otherwise not have one. I love the ability to show others how I see the world, not just because I want them to like me, but because I want them to understand and appreciate the truth I've discovered. I want them to become passionate about what I am passionate about, and in love with the One I am in love with. For me it's not about the novelty, the accessibility, or the desire to be seen in a particular light. It's about communication, real, honest, heart-connection communication.

Why make it easier to be shallow, superficial and contrived? I'd rather sit down with you over coffee for hours and dig into the mess of our lives together then wade out on the other side stronger, truer, not merely perfectly worded. It's harder to do life in person. It's harder to hide, it's harder to handle. But the difficulty makes it so beautiful. The vulnerability of face to face makes us stronger and I'm less afraid of that than I used to be. Maybe I just don't need to market myself to the world anymore. Maybe I don't need to be told how to think about the events of our world. Call me antiquated, but simpler and slower is not all that bad. I'm kinda loving it.