Shameless Persistence

I am almost to the halfway mark of my senior year.  Not quite, but almost there.  For the last 4 weeks, I have struggled with a class that has kicked my behind, in more ways than one.  It has taught me to endure through more than the first week, it has taught me to open my mind and accept things that are not in agreement with me, and that I can do this.  It is so funny, because today, this is school.  Two weeks ago, this was being a single mom.  Two years ago, this was a divorce.  Six years ago, this was a miracle baby I couldn't imagine having.  Whatever this is for you, I am sure you can relate.

This class has been a hard one, probably more so in my head than actually in the classroom.  I was struggling with it once, and dropped it within the first week.  It just was so overwhelming.  The syllabus was beyond my understanding, and I just couldn't wrap my mind around it.  The instructor was difficult to work with.  Then, Jess got sick in the second week of this same class when I was forced to drop it a second time.  My kids are my first priority, but I also don't want my grades to suffer because of them, so over the last few years, a few courses have been dropped in the first few days to help ease stress.  I took another class instead, and was confronted with this one again at the beginning of the year.   I have never wanted to quit so bad in my life.  But, I didn't.  I refused defeat.  I refused to quit.  I refused a lot, actually, but I have three more days of this class.  I can make it, I think.  ;)

But, really, isn't that what life is typically like?  There is always some battle we have to fight.  There is always that person that rubs us the wrong way.  There is always that situation we desperately want different.  There is always something preventing us from having happiness or complete peace within our homes.  We all say, "If I can just make it through __(fill in your blank here)___, then I will be joyful again."  Our focus becomes making it out alive, instead of being happy right where you are and finding joy within the craziness. 

Since the beginning of the year, I am more than guilty of making that statement several times a day, most often to myself, underneath my breath, but still.  It recently hit me that instead of being content where I am, I keep allowing myself to postpone contentment until the circumstances are right for it.  I find myself struggling to keep my head above water, because I am completely missing the boat.  I love the story of Peter walking on the water.  For the last six months or so, it has just spoken so many life lessons over my life.  Being bold, asking for what you want, trusting that it can happen, what faith can do, and stepping out.  Also, learning mistakes happen, and that Jesus is so incredibly quick to forgive and move on, even in our human inability to fully trust and believe.  I recently heard another add-on to this story.  The storm was still raging around Peter when Peter stepped out of the boat.  The waves and storm did not ease until after Jesus saved Peter from sinking and they were both back inside the boat.  Peter prayed, and his miracle happened while the storm was raging, but his faith, his lack of trust and communication stopped it from happening in the way I think Jesus intended it to happen. 

My pastor has been doing a series on prayer for the last several weeks.  It has been amazing, but I have felt so discouraged upon leaving.  I am not an awesome prayer warrior.  But, I pray often throughout my day.  The pastor has said more than once to use shameless persistence.  Keep praying until you get it.  So, let me tell you.  I have been shamelessly persisting.  I was shamelessly persisting that one same prayer again this week, when I felt God stir something up in me.  And, I was slapped.  Hard.  Straight across the face. 

You see, when we are going through whatever "this" may be, we probably pray about it all the time. It is that one need, dream, hope, desire, longing, or promise that most often comes to mind.  We pray until we are blue in the face from praying about it.  We know if we do this or we do that, God will see our need and grant us our desire.  So, we pray.  We serve.  We worship.  We persist that one thing.  And, that one thing, I persisted.  Let me tell you, so much so, that I realized I was finding it hard to pray about anything else.  So, during this prayer time, I felt God ask me, "Cil, if I gave you this one thing, you would have nothing else to pray about, because this is ALL you pray about."  Talk about a revelation.  My communication with God had become consumed by what I want.  And, as usual, He was totally right.  It wasn't about what I was doing.  He will not answer because I prayed solidly for "x" amount of time.  He will answer because I believe He will do it.  Shameless persistence is great, but are you truly believing He will do what you are shamelessly persisting Him for?  Is your shameless persistence because it could be the "magic formula" that forces God to answer you?  Or are  you persisting the communication that is so vital to the relationship between yourself and God?

I spend a few minutes each day praying for the needs of those around me.  I am ashamed to admit that after I do this, I don't think much about their needs or their concerns.  I feel (or felt) as though I had placed a bright, red check mark next to their name and could move on.  Granted, sometimes a person comes to mind throughout my day, and changes that, but for the most part, the above is true.  Instead, I focus on myself, my girls, our wants, our needs, and praise God for the things I know He is doing.  And that one thing.  Prior to last weekend, it had become all consuming.  You know, I really thought it was okay to be consumed by it, because after all, I was praying about it so often.  I wasn't taking control of the situation and running with it.  I was praying and waiting and waiting and praying.  But, the lack of answered prayer began to cause discouragement, unhappiness and honestly, it was a joy stealer.  I was looking for the answer, for the specific formula, so that I could pray, have my prayers heard, and be done, moving on to that next thing on my list of needs or wants.  And, wow, does that sound so incredibly selfish. 

This week, I have tried to maintain the prayer, but focus more on those around me and the things He is doing that I see right now. I feel renewed hope, more joy and contentment in the things I have, instead of just wanting or needing more.  It is so funny, how a year or two ago, I would have taken the reprimand with shame and guilt and allowed it to stand between me and God.  I am so incredibly blessed to realize He can love me and correct me without me needing to be ashamed and it has allowed me to feel more connected with this amazing God I serve.  I realize that it is okay to shamelessly persist something, but only when you are communicating with God about every aspect of your life, not just that one thing.  I guess my thought for the day is this:  Are you talking to God about every aspect of your life, or just that one thing you so desperately want?  Are you telling Him all about you, or just a tiny part about you?  He wants us to seek Him with all our heart, to be thankful for what He has done and is doing, and He wants us.  More than He wants to do good things for us, He wants to know us, to talk with us and love us.  We are His prized possessions.  So, yes, by all means, shamelessly persist.  But don't forget about everything else. 

As I re-read this, I realize I need to clarify something on my heart.  I am in no way thinking my Pastor's words were wrong.  They were so incredibly not.  My understanding was biased to my particular situation and I only heard the parts that I wanted to hear, causing me to misinterpret what his meaning really was.  God wants our shameless persistence, with our entire lives resting in His capable hands, not just a part.

Strength is SO Overrated...

I am totally going on a massive lack of sleep, so I am pretty punchy.  Cassie had some issues that kept her up throughout last night, then when I finally got her to stay asleep around 3 this morning, Jessie woke up and was up until after 4.  I didn't fall back asleep until after 5.  This Momma is tired.  And punchy.  And in seriously rare form.  Might even be wise to just not read this post.  Or it might be pretty comical and full of craziness.  Who knows.

You see, yesterday, I prayed that God would help me wake up so that I could spend some extra prayer time with Him.  Next time I pray that prayer, I will absolutely be more specific.  I need to actually get some sleep before I get woken up.  However, I haven't prayed over my girls like I did last night in a long time.  Okay, well, really, ever.  It was pretty cool.  And irritating that they had to be awake all night.  And exhausting.  And I wish I had a magic pill that would take my crankiness away tonight.  And, on top of that, I am just about out of coffee.  And I can't concentrate on schoolwork, not at all.  Okay, my complaining is done.  Well, I hope it is done. 

Have you ever been given a compliment that was genuine and kindhearted and totally awesome, only to realize you wish you didn't have that quality?  I was given some encouragement tonight, and I so needed it.  I experienced a total weak moment in the midst of tired and school and schedules and just one more thing, and lashed out.  I shouldn't have, and will probably find myself apologizing again because my mouth just spouts off at just the right second.  I am seriously going to have to watch work on that.  Or maybe just staple my mouth shut and cancel texting privileges on my phone.  I started my morning this morning with an apology for something my mouth got me in trouble for.  Hey, at least I know I am good at something, right??  If only I could just have a surgeon put my foot in my mouth and keep it there.  Would probably be way easier...

Anyway, it made me sort of think about how the grass always seems greener.  When we see that amazing Mom at Kroger, using a quiet, kind voice that just screams Proverbs 31 woman, we envy her patience.  Or we envy her compassionate spirit.  Or we long for an extra helping of organizational skills we lack.  Maybe it is the Mom on the PTO board whose makeup is always perfect, clothes impeccable, and seemingly has never known what it is like to have single mom struggles.  And we sit there and wonder what they did that was so right, that they got the perfect life.  Or the perfect patience.  Or the perfect hair.  Or the perfect husband.  And the list just goes on.  We immediately start to compare.  Okay, I immediately start to compare. 

Have you ever stopped to wonder how that woman got the patience to not be frustrated by two squirming toddlers fighting over who has the bigger cookie?  Or that single mom who the strength to just keep it all together?  Or that parent at the school who just has the perfect life?  Over the last few years, I have realized I am strong.  I can endure many challenges.  I can overcome worry and doubt and hating myself.  But, how do we get to that place of knowing we are capable? 

Oh yeah, by walking it out.  By living it, one day at a time.  And, it's tough.  I hate that in order to gain more of something, we have to work harder to achieve it.  It is like training for that next big run, or acing the final, or making your marriage work.  It doesn't happen overnight.  We are each given circumstances to help us train for the bigger goal.  For me, my strength came from experiences I don't really like to think about, and God knows, I sure didn't want to experience them.  However, during those tough times, I realized how capable I really am, because He never leaves my side, never quits fighting for me.  I have been given the tools I need for this season of my life.  And, when this season is over for me, I will possess tools that will be valuable to someone I can help later.  I might wish I had more patience or compassion or most definitely a quiet spirit.  What I don't realize is that in order to gain those things, God is absolutely going to put me in situations that will require those actions to be practiced and proven. 

It is so simple to look backwards and compare myself to others, to my old self, to my closest friends, to my greatest enemies.  To wish I had their lives instead of mine, to wish this or wish that.  And I think of one of my favorite verses, "Forget all that - it is nothing compared to what I am going to do (Isaiah 43:18)."  Forget about it all.  Don't waste time comparing where you were to where you are now.  Don't worry or wish or fret over what is or isn't happening right this second.  I'm just gonna be honest, the compliment was a hard one for me.  I am tired of being strong.  I am not strong because I want to be, but because I have no other choice.  It was one of things, I immediately started comparing myself to others around me.  I want their life, their patience, their house, whatever.  I want to be better at ________...  I had a much needed meltdown tonight.  I was tired.  It was necessary.  It has been a WAY emotional weekend, leaving me high and low and all over the place.  I'm pretty sure I was described as a roller coaster yesterday.  Side note: you know who you are, and let me know if credit is required...  ;-)  Focusing back, I know comparing myself is only going to lead to failure.  I can't be anyone except myself.  Anything less than me is failure.  I have strength.  I have the ability to keep going when I don't really want to.  And the most awesome thing is that I have the ability to look up when I don't feel able to do anything else.  Tonight, I feel weak.  I feel tired.  I feel unfocused and incapable.  And then I remember, I know who holds my tomorrow.  I know who gives me my strength, and who is in charge of laying it all out for me.  Philippians 3:8 says it perfect.  "Everything else is worthless, when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."  Tonight, I feel weak and unable to take anything else, but I know strength comes when I hit my knees.  I'm tired, but He gives rest to the weary.  I feel incapable, but know that I am capable of anything with God on my side.  Yup, it sounds cheesy and just so easy when I read it.  It seems so simple, like magically all my problems just vanish into thin air.  Doesn't work quite like that, but I can sleep knowing my peace, my strength, my hopes are in Someone who only wants His best for me.  And how can I not feel strong and capable and ready to fight these stupid battles with that going for me?

From Victim to Victorious

Whew.  My heart is hammering inside of my chest and I feel like I am going to throw up.  The thought keeps going around in my head.  "I AM GOD.  Do this thing.  Get it out.  Do this for my glory."

Obedience is a really difficult choice.  It requires a sacrifice, an action and a continuous walking it out.  It requires confidence that God will see you through, and boldness to finish it.  You see, we can choose to obey, make the sacrifice and allow God to move in it.  Or, we can run.  Most of my life I have chosen run.  Get out.  Get away.  Don't worry about it, just get away from it.  Mom says no, I say yes.  I was a very very rebellious teenager.  Funny as it is seems now, my rebellion turned criminal through a simple act of disobedience.  That simple act of disobedience took me away from God, my family, and the possibility of a life with way less pain and struggles. 

That one simple act of disobedience and disregard turned into one massively huge redemption story.  It amazes me today how God can take something so ignorant, rebellious and unwise and turn it into the most amazing story of love and grace that I have ever heard.  It is my story.  It is hard to think about.  Hard to accept.  And even harder to understand how His love for me surpasses it all.  Though my heart pounds, healing and glory occurs when I open my mouth (lol, or swipe my fingers over the keyboard) and give God the praise He fully deserves.   That another life will be redeemed because of the testimony He has allowed me to speak out. 

When I sixteen years old, I disregarded the religion and church that I was raised in.  I hated the rules, the regulations, the chains that the church placed upon my life, and decided if that was God, I wanted nothing to do with Him.  I denied there was a God, and that He was just some big, cruel, coldhearted joke.  The words pain me to now to realize how reckless I was.  How easily I walked outside of his protection and love all for the sake of me.  I was involved with a boy that none of my family, friends or church approved.  I ran away to be with him, and am incredibly thankful God's protective hand followed me.  Even after I denied Him, offended Him, walked away from Him, He danced all over me.  I don't feel the need to go into specific details, but His hand covered drunkenness, sexual immorality, a very unplanned pregnancy and the horrifying miscarriage that ended it.  This thought rages within me, that God used for good what the enemy intended to take me down with.  When I think back about things my 17-18 year old body was walking through, I have no doubt in my mind that God was there, even in my disobedience and refusal to accept Him. 

I got married at the very young age of 18.  I knew then, deep down, that I was not doing what I was supposed to be doing, but really thought love could fix it all.  You know, that fairy tale we all think marriage and happily ever after is.  At that point in my life, I had suffered a miscarriage at 14 weeks gestation, physical and emotional abuse, and the reality that there was nothing I could do to fix it but get married.  I did love him.  And, deep down, I know he loved me the best way he knew how to. 

By the time I was 21, the marriage had created an amazing daughter, but with the struggles of parenthood came escalating abuse.  In addition to the abuse, I was dealing with the trauma of another 3 miscarriages.  I left my husband for a brief period when I saw that he was capable of killing me. The night before I left, he tried to strangle me.  I realized surviving that night meant things had to be different.  I tried to find comfort and solace in the church of my childhood, but was only offered the pain of going back into a violent, terrifying marriage.  I loved God, I wanted His protection and His love, and was told the only way to keep all of that was to not break my marital bonds.  So, I went back.  Human promises were made to me.  Promises of hope, a new marriage, and a fresh start.  Within 3 months, the honeymoon was over.  The emotional abuse, verbal attacks and alcohol was a new burden for me.  A very unexpected burden.  In my naivety, I expected butterflies and rainbows and unicorns.  I realize now that I wish the physical abuse hadn't stopped so that the mental abuse might not have happened or been as severe.  Those wounds are far more difficult for me to handle and deal with than the bruises that have been gone for years.   And, I begain to completely give up on God loving me.  I began the process of convincing myself I was too broken and screwed up for Him to even look twice at me.  He wouldn't asnwer my prayers, nor would he fix me, because I disobeyed and I just wasn't worth the time or effort.

Years passed, and my hopelessness turned into desperate despair.  Through the grace of God, I found Northridge Church.  I was able to recommit my life, and realize that a personal relationship with God was not only possible, but was mine for the taking.  I went to a women's retreat while in the early stages of my last pregnancy.  A personal relationship between God and I happened.  Shortly after the event, He spoke precious, sacred promises over my life and the lives of my daughters.  He began to lead and guide my paths, though I was afraid to wade into deeper waters with Him.  I wasn't sure what He was going to ask or want from me, so I kept Him at arms length.  I wanted love and acceptance and forgiveness and a prosperous marriage, but felt lost and hopeless.  I fought with feelings of unworthiness and knowing that I really wasn't worth it. 

During the final months of my pregnancy, I sank into the depths of depression.  I despised the situation I was in, and felt like God didn't hear my cries or care about the promises He spoke over me.  I was frustrated, discouraged and felt completely alone.  During this period of time, I was made aware of how out of control my life had become, and started focusing on becoming dependent upon God and trying to be who He wanted me to be.  This lasted for almost 18 months.  Fighting to maintain a relationship with God, knowing it was destroying my hopes for a solid marriage.  Knowing that I couldn't leave, or I would lose my salvation, the personal relationship I had with God.  And then, knowing my relationship with God was the most secure thing I had going for me, so I must just have to tough it out.  Through months of prayer, fasting and waiting on God, I discovered who He was.  That He did love me, and didn't want me to stay somewhere so harmful to the health and safety of my daughters and myself.  In this period of my life, I was given release from my marriage.  I was frustrated, as I was a Christian woman, and this divorce contradicted everything in my Bible.  I made a commitment to my marriage in front of God, and felt so confused as to how and why I could possibly be being freed from it.  I felt like I would surely be rejected at church, that people would call me a hypocrite and make me go back.  And I was wrong.  So wrong. 

During the months the divorce was being processed and finalized, my life was a living hell.  I was scared.  I was alone.  I was afraid of my own shadow.  Everything my ex-husband had threatened, spoken over me, and promised me would happen was happening.  The emotional scars were beyond what I thought could be fixed.  I thought I was going to be broken for the rest of my life.  I started seeing a Christian counselor, and was quickly diagnosed with PTSD.  I would sleep for maybe 2-3 hours each night, only to be woken intermittently with nightmares and panic attacks so severe I literally wanted God to let me die.  Fear reigned over my life.  I tried to cling to the promises I had been given, cling to the faith that had told me to move.  Almost a year into the depression/PTSD/hell I was in, God snapped His fingers and everything just stopped.  The nightmares quit happening, the panic attacks slowed down. 

You see, I had started speaking life over me.  I had started speaking the promises of God over me, over my anxiety, over my stress.  I had women surrounding me with love, support and prayers.  I started focusing on relieving stress with exercise, conquering anxiety with the Word of God, and eventually started sleeping soundly through the night.  I proved the lies of my ex-husband wrong with scriptures I still carry with me daily.  I had to be fully broken before God could really begin fixing me, restoring me, redeeming me. 

Which leads me to right now.  God is amazing.  There are no words to describe who He is to me, or how much I know He loves me.  I had the amazing experience of serving on a team for an Encounter weekend this last weekend.  In preparing for it, I was asked a very simple question.  What has God redeemed for you?  What have you been redeemed from, Cil?  And, wow.  I sat there, in complete and utter denial that this question would be posed towards me.  I wanted to run.  I wanted to get out.  I could feel panic bubbling up in my chest.  You see, the question wasn't only what I'd been redeemed from, but also stepping out in faith and obedience and telling 90 women what I had been redeemed from, too.  I felt God stirring in me, telling me it was time.  Let it out.  Finally, I stepped out.  I told the director that I hated my word, I hated the ugliness.  I hated the shame and the guilt that I had allowed another person so much control over me, who I was, and the pain that I allowed that person to cause me.  I told her my word.  Actually, she told me the proper term for my word, but I stepped out.  Within 10 minutes, I had received confirmation from God.  My devotion that morning read:

God uses life experiences to mold, train and equip us.  Sometimes what we want to hide - those horrible trials we want to forget - are the very things He wants to use the most.  We all suffer trials.  When we surrender and lean on God, we come out the other side and He is glorified.  Nothing is worthless.  Everything has value.  God uses it all to shape us for our calling.*

 

At that moment, I knew I had done right by God.  I knew that He was going to be my strength, cover my shame, and be glorified.  Let me just say this, I underestimated God.  I seriously underestimated God.  I carried my sign almost a week later.  At first, I was ashamed.  I was disappointed in myself.  And, I was so gently reminded the only reason I would have had to carry the shame was if I hadn't followed God in what He wanted put out.  He redeemed me.  There is no shame in redemption.  There is no guilt, fear or judgement in redemption.  I was freed from captivity, and it opened me and prepared me for the most intensely emotional amazing weekend of my life.  Over the course of 46 hours, I was reminded exactly who He is and exactly the price He paid so I could live a life of redemption.  I am redeemed.  I am loved.  I am unworthy, but His sacrifice paid my debt. I realized being redeemed had a greater message.  I am no longer a victim, but instead victorious. 

 

 

****Devotion written by Wendy Blight.

Ruby Red Slippers

 

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted ruby red slippers.  Just like Dorothy.  I also wanted Toto, but that is a whole different story...  Anyway, I chased around a spunky, daring, little blonde wearing red sparkly shoes through the park yesterday.  These slippers ran through mushy mud puddles, squealed to go higher on the swings, and even swung herself across the monkey bars (yeah, ok, so she had a LOT of help with that one...).   The entire time I watched her tackle the scary "swinging" bridge, the super duper twisty slide, and go around the big sisters who kept telling her what to do, I thought about the hopes and dreams I had for her, really for each of her sisters, but she was the one wearing the shoes I envy, so...

Anyway, as a Mom, I find myself hoping and praying for blessings over my girls.  I pray they know enough challenges to make them strong, and still lose enough battles they understand how to savor victory.  I pray for good grades and college scholarships.  I pray for love and adventure.  But, most often, I find myself praying they know God better than I do.  I long for them to know Him so well that they don't make silly mistakes like I have.  I long for them to experience a life under His protection and His calling for them.  Not walking in disobedience, but knowing how to have the abundance and prosperity that comes from living a life of obedience. 

 

I don't typically have spiritual moments at the park, but stranger things have definitely happened.  As I was running after Jess yesterday, I realized how many hopes and dreams I have lost or changed.  As crazy as it is, it really did all start with the silly shoes and how much I wanted shoes just like that when I was little.  After many years, that dream sort of changed, and it helps to know that my kids have sparkly shoes.  I kept thinking about how to best shield and protect her from the mean girl cliques at school, bullies who steal ice cream money, or best friends who will inevitably stab her in the back.  I thought about all of the mistakes I have made, and the lessons I learned through them. 

 

I kept thinking about the goals I have for her as a parent, those things I so desperately want to give to her.  I kept thinking about the ways I cradle her, protect her, wipe away her tears.  And then realized again (in a wow moment) just exactly how much God feels towards us.  I know the Bible tells us in several different places that we as earthly parent give good gifts to our kids, and that God gives even greater things to those that really seek His heart.  I began to really think about the things I do for the girls, and the love that goes into those things.  Except, the reality part didn't hit me until later. 

 

Pushing her on the swing, Jessie kept crying out, "Mommy, push me higher!  I want to go higher!"  And, seriously, I felt God just speak over me, "Cil, I want you to go higher." I realized as I was laughing at her adamant squeals, I wanted nothing more than to go to that next level with God.  I want to be able to just know where I am with Him and exactly who I am with Him.  The last few weeks, I have spent more time praying, praising and reading than I have in quite some time.  My prayer life has grown, and I realize I just need to go a little higher, experience just a little more. 

 

I feel such an urgency this morning to just fully depend on God for those promises I am waiting for.  To just release my desires and dreams fully to His completely capable hands.  As I was laying in bed last night, I just felt so close.  I just felt that still small voice remind me His promises are never broken.  Waiting has always felt like doing nothing.  I hate that part of life.  I like to know I am doing all that I can to complete a task.  And, waiting feels like sitting around, doing nothing.  But this morning, waiting feels like I am doing something.  I am relying on Someone way bigger than myself to complete His promises to me.  I am releasing control of my situation to the Creator of my days.  And those two things most definitely do not feel I am doing nothing. 

Throughout this season of my life, I have often looked back and allowed myself to be discouraged, frustrated, just wanting something or someone to let me I am important, that I have value, even when all evidence points to the contrary.  For so many years, nothing I did could ever equal worth.  Nothing I did earned respect or an uplifting word.  As I read my devotion this morning, I got the most awesome reminder of who I am.  I am Cil, the one who Jesus loves.  I realized human words are just words.  They can be spoken.  They can be written.  They can be thought or even implied.  But, in all reality, people use them with such wreckless abandon that they often mean nothing to the person speaking them, but everything to the person receiving them.  We allow our tongue to just move all the time, without thinking about the real meaning.  But, when I think about what God says about me, I know they aren't just words.  They are promises, they are true, they are meaningful.  And, I am loved.  I am a marvelously made masterpiece, you know, the one that Jesus loves.  So, this morning, I sit back and complete the action of waiting.  Depending.  Relying.  Knowing that God's promises are eternal.  He won't take it back or change His mind.  He's got this, so I don't have to worry.  And, the awesome thing?  You don't have to either, cause you, too, are the one Jesus loves. 

 



A Little Jump Start

So lately, I have been fighting off some massive problems with discouragement.  Massive, I tell you.  I have felt like my prayers, my tears, my problems were falling on deaf ears.  My faith has started to slowly suffer.  You know the drill, you get motivation, you stay focused, you remain strong, until all of a sudden, you realize how deep the water is. 

I have known my water is deep, and have clung to the promise that God will not let me drown.  It is in those moments that I realize my faith feels tiny.  It feels almost nonexistent.  But it only takes faith as small as a mustard seed.  Today, I reached a milestone, an anniversary, and while a year ago, I felt defeat and failure, today I feel victory and freedom.  Two years ago, hopeless was my constant state of mind.  And, for some reason, I can't help but look back just a little tonight.  Not at the bad, not this set of mistakes in the corner, or the bad call hovering over my head, or even that other major setback. I look back and realize how far His faithfulness has brought me, and not because my faith has been so big, either. 

I received a short devotional this morning in my inbox.  And, wouldn't you know, it was exactly the reminder I needed.  It was about faith.  God has a funny sense of humor sometimes.  Anyway, the devotion made a short reference to Elijah, and I couldn't remember the story and just started reading back.  And it hit home. 

In the story, there was a drought across the land.  The drought had lasted for quite some time when God finally told Elijah the drought would be over soon.  Elijah called the Israelites on the fact that they were walking away from God and right into some statues.  He challenged them, asking them to just make up their minds who they were going to serve and serve whoever it was.  Elijah gave them a test, to see if their idol could start a fire, or if it was only the God he served.  Of course, he knew the answer, but had to prove the point.  They all agreed whoever ignited the fire is who they would serve.  After an entire morning, and part of an afternoon, Baal hadn't ignited the altar.  Nothing was happening, Elijah even going so far as to poke fun at Baal for ignoring their pleas.  After completely soaking the altar Elijah built with water, Elijah prayed to God, and fire came down upon the altar.  The story goes on to the celebration, the rains that came, and then his need for immediate escape. 

At this point, I found it so typical of all of us.  Elijah heard the promise, believed the promise, and told others of the promise.  It was going to rain.  He didn't know when or how, but that God was God and it was going to happen.  He even carried out God's plan.  He proved to all the people that God was the true God, and then suddenly realized his life was in danger.  His faith rocked to the core, he cried out, asking for death to take him.  Scared, running for his life and alone, and yet he still clung to the One he knew could calm it all. 

In my life right now, I have got a million things trying to take me down.  I even think I made the comment a few days ago that I was tired, ready to call it quits.  Not knowing what is ahead of me, only seeing the chaos I have left behind me.  I have been so discouraged, wondering if the promise God gave me was really God, wondering if God was listening, hearing my cries.  Feeling like the storm around me is so big and bold, so fierce I won't be able to make it out alive.  With the smallest amounts I have left, I keep praying.  I keep waiting.  I keep reading the scriptures that remind us God doesn't break his promises, doesn't change his mind.  I find myself in an almost constant battle to remain in control of my thoughts, resisting the urge to throw my hands up and surrender to whatever this is that is coming at me. 

When I am reading a really good book, I tend to not want to stop.  I want to just keep reading, find out the how's and when's of the characters story.  So, instead of shutting my Bible with God being victorious, and Elijah running off to the desert, I had to know a little more.  You see, once more, Elijah was promised something.  Elijah was promised God would pass by him on the mountain.  So, Elijah went to the mountain.  Once there, he experienced hurricane force winds, but no God.  Then, he experienced a mighty earthquake, but still, no God.  And on top of that, Elijah experienced fire.  And again, no God.  One thing after another tried to distract Elijah from his purpose on that mountain.  Meet with God.  He will pass by on the mountain. 

It wasn't loud.  It wasn't fierce winds.  It wasn't violent earth shattering shaking.  It wasn't hot burning fire.  Instead, God showed up after all of that in a gentle, small quiet whisper.  In that moment, Elijah, again, poured his heart out.  God told him to go back the way he came.

This is what hit me.  Sometimes we gotta go back the way we came to see what faith can do.  Sometimes, we gotta go back the way we came to make it up the mountain we are on.  Sometimes, we gotta go back.  Not to stay, not to regret, not to wish things were different.  We just have to go back so we can see what God has done, and what He continues to do. 

Tonight, I keep going back the way I came.  A really really angry teenager, set on doing things her own way.  Refusing to listen to anyone who might have something important to say.  I go back to the days of early motherhood, wondering if the night would ever end.  I go back to the start of my college education, full of hope and excitement for the next few years.  I go back to those days of waiting for God to move, and move BIG.  I keep going back.  It is in these moments my hope, my faith, my courage is renewed. 

God's hand took me out of a bad situation.  God had a plan bigger than right now, or tomorrow.  He had a plan that had to be set in place years ago, so that I could get to this place right now.  I can look forward, with hopes and dreams, because I can see what God has brought me through already.  I look back over my life, and realize I shouldn't be where I am today.  I shouldn't have three amazing little girls right now.  I shouldn't be just a handful of classes away from graduating.  In these moments, I almost want to laugh at how crazy it all sounds.  I shouldn't be thriving.  I shouldn't be so excited about what the next year will hold.  But, I can't help but know if God can get me through the junk in my trunk, He can most definitely get me through today and tomorrow.  He promised me something, and while I can't see the clouds on the horizon just yet, I gotta keep waiting and watching, cause I know they are coming. 

Deep Water

As a young girl, I loved to swim.  I seriously think that was one of my absolute favorite things to do.  I loved to pretend to be a mermaid, sitting on the bottom of the pool, seeing how long I could stay under without coming up.  As an adult, though I love to swim, I am terrified to be where I can't touch or see the bottom.  I love to swim, but I am just not as brave as I was as a young girl. 

One of my favorite scriptures is Isaiah 43.  This morning, the part of the chapter that says, "When you go through deep waters, I will be with you.  When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown," just holds a special place.  It made me think over the course of my life, and how such a simple promise holds completely true. 

Several years ago, I found myself in a situation that was beyond my control.  While not being physically in danger, I realized I was between a rock and a hard place.  Life situations continued to escalate, and at the time, I did go to church more to escape my house than to search for God.  Almost four years ago, I realized that while church was my sanctuary, it was also so much more.  I could pour out my heart, my fears, my failures, my whole life to God and actually know He could help me with it.  At that point in my life, I didn't see how it was possible, but began seeking him fervently for what I needed to do for my entire family.  The waters I was in were so deep, not only could I not touch bottom, I couldn't even see the bottom.  Or the shoreline.  Or any lifeboats.  And I was scared senseless.  Over the course of the the following two years, God became my foundation.  My life preserver.  You see, He didn't allow me to get to the shore, but He kept me from drowning. 

The last few days have been difficult, to say the least.  I had some health scares that pretty much stopped me in my tracks.  And while I had a few hours of afraid, I didn't drown.  I knew I had people behind me praying, not because they knew the situation could be bad, but because they knew I was standing in the middle of a river full of difficulty.  This week has been one trial after another.  Part of me knew it was because God is moving big in my life.  The other part of me thought it was time to let go of my firm footing and just let the water overtake me. 

Isn't it like us to just wish the current could just carry us someplace calmer, quieter, where we can just lean back and float a bit?  Again, it made me think about my life.  The quiet, calm moments and the crazy, overwhelemd drowning moments.  While I love calm, quiet and serene, in those moments, I am not dependent on God to keep me up.  I can honestly say those are the times I am hit or miss with my Bible reading.  Those are the times when I am confident in myself, and my abilities.  While self-confidence is good, feeling independent of God is not. 

This morning, I had a really, really, really bad Mommy moment.  No, I do not need to add any change to therapy jars, but I realized I have got a long ways to go before I can be happy with where I am.  One of the girls has been sick this week, and add really tired to the mix, she was unhappy, grouchy and overy rude to every person in the house.  I snapped.  I am so weary of hearing how bad I am, how ugly her sister is, and how no one in this house loves her.  Yes, I know.  Exhaustion and crankiness meant her words were not true.  I get it.  However, I also know she cannot be mean to people to make herself feel bigger or better.  After the issue was somewhat resolved, I laid down with her on her bed and started praying over her.  I have never felt such peace and love between the two of us.  This little girl has the same strong, independent, leading qualities I have.  While that makes me happy, it makes me sad, too.  I know we butt heads because we are so much alike.  Especially because we both haven't been sleeping well.  Because, like I said, we are seriously alike.  No sleep, no caffeine, and we should probably quarantine ourselves away from each other and every other person in the house.  :)

Anyway, after leaving her room, I wanted desperately to pick up the phone and get confirmation that I was still a good mom, just having a rough moment, just as she is a great girl, just having a bad morning.  I wanted to cry on someone's shoulders about the difficulties I am having as a single parent, trying to maintain consistency, but still be liked because I am not the "fun weekend" parent. I wanted to be told I could do this, not really because I could, but because I have no alternative.  Pride kept me from picking up the phone, and instead putting praise and worship on.  The last thing I wanted was to have to verbally talk this one out.  I started praying, instead, and immediately felt such piece and strength surround me. 

A song came on about being in deep water, and wanting to go deeper.  Dig deeper, and jump in.  It made me realize only when I am surrounded by deep water do I know who holds me up.  When I am floating calmly, I forget that it still isn't in my ability.  When I keep finding myself in water rushing around me, threatening to make me slip and fall, and maybe go under for a few seconds, those are the moments I realize how important a solid rock to stand on is.  I want to be in deep water, because there I experience trust.  I experience faith.  I experience an invisible life preserver, giving me confidence not that I can do this on my own, but instead that I will not go down.  I might not do it as well as others, I might only barely make it out.  But, His promise remains, I will not go down. 

I won't go so far as to say I have loved every moment of my life.  Many times, laying in bed at night, I wish I could re-do parts.  I wish I could erase some of the weakness, and stand firm for the things in my life I knew weren't right.  However, it was in those deep water moments that I can see how amazingly big God is.

Middle of the nights when I was afraid to fall asleep, middle of the day moments when I don't know how I kept my kids fed and clean, not to mention the house and the laundry.  The second that I realized I had a monstrous problem that I could do nothing about, but knew something had to be done.  Those seconds when I realized how worthless I truly was to one of the most important people in my life.  Those long months waiting for babies to arrive, safe and sound and alive.  In those enormously terrifying moments, He held me up, even though I couldn't see it.  I didn't feel like I wasn't going to drown, but I didn't.  Looking forward to a future unknown is often scary and terrifying, with so many questions about how it is all going to happen, or if this or that will work, or any number of the any other things going around in my head.  But the amazing thing?  The peace I have about it.  I know God is in control and working for my good, even if I can't see it all the time.  Even when I totally mess it all up, He will restore it and use it towards His purpose for my life.

Ok, so apparently, I did a total blonde thing...  Wrote the whole thing out and never pushed the button.  Gotta love Saturday afternoon distractions.  :)

Procrastinating at its Finest

 

This is my view tonight.  I sit here, struggling beyond belief with two stupid assignments of a class that is so over my head.  I have cancelled this course twice (yeah, you did read that right.  TWICE.) because it is just hard and overwhelming and scary and the list goes on quite a ways.  I am not allowed to postpone it, change it, or drop it.  Or I get dropped.  Pretty plain and simple.  So, eventually tonight, I am going to have to bite the bullet and get the stupid assignments done and go to bed.  My thoughts just overtake every ounce of me tonight.  All day, I couldn't put my finger on it.  About dinner, I realized about a million reasons why I should be allowed a really really good cry.  Except I can't let myself.  I am terrified if I start, I might not stop for a while.

 

I know you are wondering why in the world I posted a picture of a slightly cluttered but inspirational workplace in a very public setting.  First, because it inspires me.  Second, because I am feeling the need to put off my homework for just a little longer.  I am so not looking forward to doing it and know I will not allow myself to be dropped, so...  Third, because when I write I feel better and why not write about things and people who push me harder and believe in me more than I do myself?  I always feel better after processing a little bit, anyway.  And typing is so much easier than grabbing a pen, so a public place it must be...

 

Ok, so quickly glancing...  My monkey sings "The Fireman Song" and does this silly dance.  Except it's batteries are dead because I couldn't help but push the button.  All.  The.  Time.  Almost two years ago, I ran the Princess Half Marathon at Disney World.  My sister and I were somewhere between miles 6 and 8, and let me just say, we were too far to stop, but way too far from the end for my liking, well, until we rounded the corner and saw firemen.  Amazingly handsome, hunky fireman.  Dancing on the roof of their truck.  Oh my, yes.  :)  Disclaimer: Previously mentioned firemen were in broad daylight, fully clothed.  On Disney property, people.  So, the song they were dancing to (which was "Dynamite," for anyone wondering) has become know in my house as the fireman song.  So, I can't help but laugh at finishing what felt almost impossible every time I push the button.  Probably one of my favorite things is this big red heart, from one of my awesome kiddos from last year.  He struggled all year to write his name and cut with scissors.  And, not only did he cut that heart out all by himself, he also wrote my name and his name on it.  And, he told me I was the prettiest teacher at the school.  So, yeah, that heart reminds me I do at least one thing in life right.  I give my all to those kiddos.  And I love every (ok, almost every) second of it.  I find myself giggling at Toy Story Lego magnets that I would probably go off the deep end if someone stole from me.  They are just way too fun.  I love that my to-do list from last March is still hanging, waiting for me to buy wipes and food and all sorts of stuff.  I look around to Jessie's artwork, to Sara's homemade Mother's Day card, to Cassie's heart magnets, all their hard work and creativity in front of me.  Happy little girls, with brightly colored pictures.  It brightens up one of the most stressful spots I have.  I look at a card from one of my sisters that reminds me how much better I am here instead of where I used to be, and that I just gotta keep smiling through it all.  I have at least four pairs of headphones, reminding me I should be running more.  I am not even gonna go there.  I so want to run.  I really need someone to just tell me to get my butt up and get out there.  I have one of my favorite quotes within a hands reach, "Sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage.  Twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery, and something great will come of it."  Don't even know where I heard it or where I can hear it again, but I love it.  I have my favorite kiddos all with Mickey ears and princess tiaras, reminding me of my best Disney trip yet, and that I am sure there will be more.  Most importantly, I am surrounded with some of my favorite scriptures, and the reminder that even in this dark place I am in tonight, God is here.  Reminding me that in order to reach the prize, I gotta keep pushing on.  Reminding me that every single step I make needs to be with God-centered purpose.  No random strolls.  That His strong Hand holds me and keeps me from drowning, this very second when I am so tired of trying. The reminder that my weakness provides Him the perfect opportunity to remind me of His strength and grace.  That I need nothing more than that. 

 

Come January, I can't seem to escape from where I could still be.  For so long, I have looked at this month as this place of inner turmoil, sadness of past hurts, disappointments and lack of caring.  I hate that I allowed myself to be in such a position to feel so desperate, so alone, and so weary of just taking the next breath.  I hate that I allowed myself to hope for so much more.  I hate that I expected anyone to be a better person, especially because I wanted that person healthy, whole and happy.  I hate that I have an amazing story to share with people, because sharing is so difficult.  I hate that I know part of who I am going to be now and forever is because of what I experienced every day of my past.

 

However, amidst all those I hates, I have a lot more I loves.  I love that though my past is painful, and this month reminds me again and again how many times I was let down and hurt, this amazing relationship and bond I have with my Creator takes the sting out of it, and replaces it with this promise and hope I cannot explain.  I know that I am worth far more than any bottle of beer or picture of a naked woman on the computer.  My value is far above either.  I love that God can take this cracked vessel of a person and mold it into the most amazing, intricate piece of art.  There is this scripture in Ephesians (I think it might be 2:10?) that talks about each of us being God's masterpiece.  Not one more valued than the other, but each of us equally loved and treasured, priceless in the eyes of the Artist.  And, you know, I love that God saw and is creating a purpose through my pain.  I love that God has given me a promise that I can stand firmly on, even in the middle of these rough nights.  I love that God will give me the strength and grace I need to fulfill His plan and purpose for my life. 

 

I guess in all of this, I just have to remember, I could be sitting in the same place I was two years ago.  And, sadly, I remember exactly where I was two years ago right now, and I never want to go back.  I gotta remember to keep my eyes focused on where God's redeeming love has taken me from so that I can see and do the amazing things He has in store for me.  He has not forgotten me, nor have I forgotten what He promised to do for me.  Regardless of the dark, regardless of the weary, regardless of it all, His word remains true.  For that I am thankful, for that I can say I am blessed.  He hasn't changed His mind, and the adversities being thrown my way will not make me doubt the good things He has promised for those who wait.  I will wait.  And His promises will come.