Love

Love.

It's a concept that He's been bringing to my mind a lot recently in terms of both relationships and lifestyle.

I'm one of these people who focuses on what I can accomplish, on a checklist of ideals to finish off for a day, who gets together with people so I feel as if I've contributed enough to that relationship for awhile, so now I can slack.

But He isn't like that.

Love is not something that can be contained. Love does not slack. Love never ends.

The first time I was struck by this was during the Alumni soccer weekend, when I took some time to be alone in my dorm room and do my devos.

My own theme verse that I had chosen for myself this year in regard to soccer was Galatians 2:20:

"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (ESV)

And I examined that verse, and here were was my train of thought:

-What does that look like? I am to be merely a human skin encompassing a heart, soul and mind completely devoted to God. I am His earthly reflection and I'm not doing so hot. 

-But what am I to reflect? How can I change my actions?

This lead me to think of 1 John 4:16: "God is love."

-I can focus on so many things but what is underneath is an attitude of love (which in its pure Godly form is unselfish, etc.)

Which lead me to 1 Cor. 13:

-The obvious love chapter - but I see it with a different view when I read it regarding how I'm supposed to treat others. It's not able to be faked, it's an attitude - a heart thing.

-"If I could..." 
       -"be amazing at soccer and score a ton of goals, wowing the audience and impressing my coach" but have not love - I am nothing.
       -my skills at sports really have nothing at all to do with anything, it's all about my attitude and how I treat others, God and myself

-"Love is..."
        -I fail so miserably at all of these (but that's the point isn't it?)
        -I am so often self-seeking and wanting to make myself look good, but my purpose on Earth is to make God look good (and sometimes that's done best by my failing)
      
And this love? It cannot be checklisted. It cannot be faked. It cannot be done comfortably.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable." (C.S. Lewis - The Four Loves)

I cannot love without opening myself up for hurt, heartache and pain.

But then I look at what He did.

"but God shows His great love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8, ESV)

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:3, ESV)

And I am called to do the same. To live with a selfless love that always puts others first.

Because He first loved me.

By My Side

Project-oriented.

A new word I have recently found to describe myself.

How? I like to fix things and to get things from start to finish. That includes school projects, situations in other people's lives, other people themselves and my own spiritual life.

Yup.

Doesn't work so well with those things that refuse fixing. Things that undulate up and down and never seem to hold a steady place because, I need to face it, humankind is humankind.

We have our up days, we have our down days, we even have our inside-out days.

And when it comes to my spiritual life, I wish that I could go from area to area, or spiritual fruit to spiritual fruit, work on one until it comes to fruition and then move on to another.

But I find that as soon as I try to do that, I look back and see that the area I just left has already fallen into dis-array.

I'm not perfect.

You don't say.

And being home has had it's ups and downs as well. One one side, I'd say that I adjusted to being home the best out of any break so far. I feel as if I'm back in the home groove once more. One the other hand, the struggle of bringing Millar habits and integrating them into my home life.

I fail. I fall.

And I beat myself up until I remember.... it's not about me.

If I was enough to make myself perfect, there was no reason for Him to come. I am striving to earn grace, and that doesn't work. So as I listen to words of truth, I bask in the knowledge that I am not enough, but that He is. And He is always by my side.

Eli

Last weekend, our soccer team had the privilege of leading the service at one of the surrounding churches as part of our field education. Some of us helped with worship, one preached a sermon for his homiletics course, and still others led the children's time.

And as soon as they were up at front and the storybook was revealed, I settled back into my seat prepared to sit through another heart-warming reading of a Max Lucado book.

You are Special. Although the rendition included laughs, it struck a chord in me that I hadn't realized needed to be struck.

The story of one young boy who finds himself unable to live up to the expectations of the community, covered in grey dots instead of sparkly stars, judged for the things that he cannot accomplish.

A young girl who has none, and to whom none can stick, and a secret revealed.

Every day, I go and see Eli. 

And out of desperation, and yet with trembling and fear this young Wemmick approaches the doorway to the carpenter's shop and pauses a moment.

Then he hears something. A voice. The sound of his maker calling his name.

"How good to see you." And the conversation continues, until the Creator comments on the marks that the Wemmick bears. Ready to defend himself, the Wemmick is surprised to hear Him say, "Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care about what the other Wemmicks think." 

Although there are so many lessons that can be gleaned from this book, there are a few lines from their conversation that really stuck with me.

"Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me. Every day, I've been hoping that you would come... the more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers."

"Just come to see me everyday and let me remind you how much I care."   

And a craving arose in me as the story finished. To meet with my Creator as he had met with his. To view time with God as an escape, a refuge, a place where my priorities are rearranged and where my eyes are opened so that I realize how little value the labels of this world really hold.

So often I view my devotions as something that is scheduled in, something that I occasionally delight in, something I meet with God in, and yet something that I view as have-to-do.

A chance? An opportunity? An escape from this world? Not really.

Today in chapel, our student body president shared something that compounded this message. He shared how so often in his life he found that he had made his faith about the Gospel + whatever. That he felt that if he didn't do enough good works, he would someday be shamed. That there was this striving and reaching for something instead of rest.

Because that's what we're called to do. Rest.

Rest in the fact that our heavenly Father could never love us more than He does at this moment.

Let that sink in.

It's a truth that I so often let fade away into the background and soon I am back to trying to please God with all the good things that I do, all the while failing to realize that He delights in me.

Yes, I continue to do good things, but as an outpouring of the love that He shows me, rather than as a way to be able to be worthy.

And that's the key.

I am not worthy. Never have been. Never will be.

But He has made me worthy.

And how foolish to negate the worthiness of Christ that is now given to me, simply by striving to do it on my own although I know that it has never worked in the past, so why should I think it will work now?

That is why I fail to come. I fail to realize His love. The longing He has for me, not because of my own merit, but because of Christ's.

I want to come as a little child to the office of my Father. To be in awe of all that He is and yet to climb with joy and anticipation into that huge lap and to be cradled in those strong arms. To simply be, and to tell of my sorrows, and to be willing to be reprimanded. To want to stay as long as I can, instead of think of how soon I can escape.

I want to be with Eli.

Captivating

{I find that blogging is often something I postpone doing simply for lack of time to craft words in the way that I want them to be crafted... but really? That's pride. So here's to more regular posts about random things!}

I was given a sheet of paper at the beginning of the school year with quotes from John and Stasi Eldredge's book Captivating on it. A week or so ago, I took the time to read through and meditate on the concepts that it brought forth in relation to my life.

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, ti should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." ~1 Peter 3:3-4

This has always been one of those verses that bites. every. single. time. I feel as if this is a concept that I will continually struggle with throughout my life, because let's face it, I like to dress up. I like to wear nice clothing and attractive outfits, but when I look deeper, I see that the heart of the issue is that I like attention. And that, my friends, is pride. As is written so many places in Scripture, we are never to boast in self, but only in Christ.

The more 'His' we become, the more ourselves we become, more our true selves. Peter doesn't say that beautiful women rarely speak above a whisper, if they speak at all. No. To have a gentle and quiet spirit is to have a heart of faith, a heart that trusts God, a spirit that has been quieted by His love and filled with His peace. Not a hear that is striving and restless.

Have you ever had that gnawing feeling, that although you shouldn't think it, sometimes you wonder if you're losing out by doing things His way? And that's the thought that's been indoctrinated into us through advertising and the sinful world. We think that somehow, through being taught how to truly live life by the Giver of life, we'll somehow miss out on life. Crazy.

And that pride? See, the whole fact that I want attention is where I need to target the problem. I need to be content in His love and I love the phrase "a spirit that has been quieted by His love." I am called to no longer strive to find purpose or placement or peace, but to look only to Him, to know that I am loved and lovely.

A woman in her glory, a woman of beauty, is a woman who is not striving to become beautiful or worthy or enough. She knows in her quiet center where God dwells that He finds where beautiful, has deemed her worthy, and in Him, she is enough. In fact, the only thing getting in the way of our being fully captivating and enjoyed is our hiding and striving.

I am enough. I need to stop striving.

"He will quiet you with His love" Zeph 3:17. A woman of true beauty is a woman who in the depths of her soul is at rest; trusting God because she has come to know Him to be worthy of her trust. She exudes a sense of calm; a sense of rest; and invites those around her to rest as well. She speaks comfort; that all is well; that all will be well. A woman of true beauty offers others the grace to be and the room to become. In her presence, one can release the tight sigh that so often grips our hearts, and breathe in the truth that God loves us and He is good.

I long so much to be that quiet presence. To speak with wisdom and to be at that center of rest. It's all about being content in His love. No longer striving. No longer wondering. No longer running after other's approval.

You see, ultimately, a woman invites us to know God. To experience through her that God is merciful. That He is tender and kind. That God longs for us -- to be known by us and to know us. She invites us to experience that God is good, deep, lovely, alluring, captivating.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and worry. Worry about how I appear to others, worry about what others think of me... worry about who I am. But that very worry undermines the goodness of the God who crafted me.

And I long to be captivating and to be captivated by that love that shaped me, that love that quiets me, that love that tells me that I no longer need to strive, that I am enough.