Exactly What I Need

{I started this one in the summer, but I never finished it, so here you go!}
A friend recently posted this song on FB:

Stop.

Actually listen to it.

I know, I know...  I'm creepy reading your mind like that, huh?

Do it.

The phrase that really stuck out to me was "I am desperate for a desperate heart."

That phrase encompasses so much of what I feel everyday about God and my relationship with Him. It was the same when I was reading through A.W. Tozer's book, The Pursuit of God. And I wrote a *post* about it back during January.

This song hits the same notes of my heart's cry that was expressed in that post as well. I am absolutely nothing by myself, a desert soul. Gasping, searching for just a single drop of water. And I long to long to long to long for Him.

Sometimes there are days when that's all I feel, the faintest glimmer of longing, and other days when it is so much that it drives me to my knees.

And this should be my heart's cry, whether in days or plenty or in days of drought. It's so easy when things are going well, to not think about how He's the One that brought it, and then when He brings days of drought, I so easily find myself asking, "What did I do wrong? Why can't I stay up in that nice place?"

I think He often brings me to that place of drought, to bring me to my knees. To make me realize just how much I need Him, with disregard to everything else. Ever, always, only.

May I have a desert soul, satisfied with what He is, but always craving to know more.

In Missing Them

I miss them today. My family.

The other five people in this world who make up the Scott family.

I was just standing in the kitchen this morning, getting my breakfast ready, and this song popped into my head.

And I sang it, and the catches in my voice came. The tears started to pool. I simply miss them.

Then, just moments ago, I reread the post that I wrote before going to college, right *here*. Not only can I never read that without crying, period, but reading it now with an even bigger separation, the gasping cry comes.

I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to cry when they left. Scared that I would try to hold it together so much that I shut out my feelings and simply became numb.

And numbness came to some extent, but I cried. As much as I ever cry.

My father held me, the one who has guided me through all aspects of growing up. The one who helped me apply for my credit card and practice my driving and  bequeathed the family cellphone to me and explained the plan and everything. And I basked in his warmth, in his strength, in his smell, in his solidity, the one who's been my guide and shelter, providing an ever present picture of my heavenly Father. The one who sits out in the living room in the morning doing his devos, whom I know prays for me, whom I respect more than anyone else I know. The tears trickled down my cheeks and melted into his shirt, and he hugged tighter.

My mother who has guided me through the craggy ups and downs of everyday life. Who keeps me updated on families back here in Thrills, who has shown me that friendship with your children is not only possible, but is the best way to live. Who has been my confidante and friend. Who is the first one I call with exciting news. And her eyes grew red and they started me crying, because whenever I see her cry, I have to cry. It's just how it works. Then, later M gave me an envelope that she had given him to give to me after they had left. And even before I opened it, the tears started to roll, as I looked at her scripted Christabelle on the front. Her words were such a comfort, even as the inspired more tears.

My sister who wanted to stay up late and talk about everything running through her mind. The one with whom I shared a bed for the last few nights. One who I am so incredibly proud of because of what she's doing. If you think I'm courageous for staying behind, look at her. She's going out there with them, to a place she hasn't been for five years, and going apart from my parents to teach some children and garner experiences for which there will never be a replacement. She is a constant example and challenge to me.

My brother who is now allowed to be taller than me, since he's on a different continent. The one who's now learning how to wield a machete and is getting a world-class education on multiculturalism and hands-on experiences. I'm personally crossing my fingers that he'll come back a soccer super-star... Siblings can hope, can't they?? Not only that, but I hope that he will be growing closer to the One I know he has an incredible heart for.

My littlest sister who sent me a package of nerds and peanuts while I was at Millar, telling me that I was a nerd as well as a nut. Who just moments ago, through my mother chatting with me on Facebook, called me a nut once again. It's a little game we play, you see. She starts with peanut, I say some other nut, normally walnut, she says peanut, I say pecan, she says... and it goes on until I inevitably beat her with my superior knowledge of nuts. My little cuddle-bunch and monkey whom I held at the airport, with her legs wrapped around my waist.

The best part is I know that they're where they're supposed to be. I feel no regret in staying behind, which has been an incredible blessing from the One who knows best. And even as I grieve, it's not because of pain or hurt, but rather just plain missingness... and He knows. He holds.

But it's just one of those face-watering days.

Wasting Nothing

{Now that I'm back to a sort-of routine here at home, I'm hoping to write more frequently in this space, consequential or not, so I might not be linking all of them to FB. So if you want to make sure to catch all of my posts, make sure to become a follower either by joining the site or following by e-mail. I would sure appreciate that!}

I was talking to a dear friend of mine last night, who is going through some deep issues within their family. And tears seem to be the easiest response when life seems to go in the opposite direction than we thought it would.

So I shared with her a song that I heard first in another blogger's post.

Nothing is wasted.

And it's incredible for me to look back on that Thing That Took Me Away. It doesn't cause hurt or pain or bitterness when I recall it, though. Instead, I see the entire situation gilded with glory and creased with signs of care by One who knew exactly what He was doing.

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing. (James 1:2-4, NLT)

Having a sister who was considered by some to be disabled for a time? Gave me a heart for those the world see as disabled, and enabled God to show me a passion I didn't know was there.

Not being able to go to the MK boarding school in the capital city that I was looking forward to? Being placed in a school that allowed me to learn how to play the flute and tour with a choir for three years, plus many other opportunities, eventually leading to going to Millar.

Having an interview yesterday and it immediately ending after hearing that I've committed to going to Bible Camp this summer? Provides a way for God to work in something that's building up to blow me away with His grace.

If I just allow myself to see it that way, instead of what the surface seems like. It's sometimes easy to forget that He still knows what He's doing.

Each day, when I come upon those small disappointments or hard conversations or burdens from a friend, He is the only One who can hold and gather each broken piece.

His Arms are big enough, and His heart is deep enough.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing that He does not use in my daily life. No incident comes into my life that He does not put there for a purpose, and He is faithful to use the most broken parts of us to bring the most glory to Himself.

What about you? Anything, absolutely anything you're going through, He knows. He's already in there, He's got it under control.

Nothing is wasted.

Central

It’s so easy to get lost.

To get surrounded and tumbled around by the everyday petty things that cause me to worry and stress about what comes next. To take my eyes off of the One who controls the sea and instead to look at the depths that lie beneath me and to feel myself sinking, with my eyes on myself instead of on Him.

I scrabble around, looking for something to hold onto and come up empty-handed.

And I come to the disheartening conclusion that there will always be someone better at something than I am, and I will always miss out on something.

But I will gain something either way, and they spoke at church this week of rest.

Of resting in confidence of God’s sufficiency, knowing that the victory is already won.

It’s not an inactive rest, rather one that acts in the confidence that God will work. I am called to follow Him, knowing that He will provide and that I have nothing to worry about.

But so often, I make my future and my talents about my own desires instead of about His desires.

I get caught up in my life and when I come before Him, I spend my time focusing on myself and all that’s going wrong, instead of all that He’s blessed me with.

I forget to come with expectation and with eagerness to sit at His feet.

I come, wanting rest through immediate answers or a sense of peace instead of simply letting all things go and learning more of who He is and knowing that He is worthy of trust.

I forget to seek His kingdom first, although when I do so, all my needs will be supplied.

Not that I am to spend time *not* thinking about other things, but rather that every moment would have a focus on Him. 

Finals come up and it's easy to give way to rote memorization instead of heart internalization, Christmas comes and it can be turned into a family-centered holiday instead of a Christ centered one, and my identity and heart can be centered on others' expectations and thoughts instead of on the One who crafted each part.

So it's a conscious choice, and not always an easy one. It's hard to tear close of the headway that the world makes into my soul, but when I do, I find rest. 

Rest, through making Him the center of my every day, hour, moment, action, thought, word, and motive.

Through a Blessing

I opened up my e-mail this morning and found it sitting there.

A small note from my earthly father who is in Europe right now.

And as only one who has been with me from my very beginnings can write, he wrote:

To my own Christa-belle,


Just wanted to bless you with this blessing as you head out to Colombia tomorrow!


May God's love shine brightly through you
 may you take risks
  may you be pushed out of your comfort zone to find your strength in Him and not in the amazing talents you already possess
    and may your choose love over safety, service over comfort, and
      may your heart be broken by the things that break His heart.


I love you very much!


Dad

And these words speak to my heart, so much so that I find tears welling up in my eyes.

Because that's what I've been afraid of these past few days with the time ticking and my heart feeling so unprepared.

I've been scared that I would not let myself be hurt, because of how my heart still hurts for another country that is dear to my heart.

I've been scared that I wouldn't knowlingly let my heart get attached because of the ripping-away that comes later.

But as I read those words, I recognize that it isn't about me in the least.

It's about Him.

It's about how He can take this crumbling mess of doubts and confusions and transform it into a creation that glorifies Him in every action every day.

It's about how He works through  my weaknesses to showcase His strength.

And since it's all about Him, I have nothing to fear.

Absolutely nothing.

Because He will not change, and He will not fail.

And it's all about Him.

In the Little Things

As the plane flight to Colombia approaches, I find many things swirling through my head with nowhere to roost. It seems like I fight through a daily mist of misgivings, hopes, dreams, confusions and information without a resting place.

But He speaks to me even through this numbness.

His sunshine truly does pierce through the gloom.

And He speaks to me in the gifts of a little one, who with smiles and hesitations presents me with his offering.

And what an offering it is.

Through his simple scrawl and hastily folded paper, my heart sees his innocence and rejoices in the gift that He has made this one child to be.

Then, later, when I am writing a return letter... one that will go through the "real mail," He shows me how little gifts brighten everyone's day, and that the little things are most often the things that He shines through.

He doesn't call me to be big, powerful, holding everything together during these hectic upcoming months.

All that He expects me to be is a little light, shining for Him wherever I go.

And as the wherever-I-go part gets put to use in the next few days, He's showing me that it may not be about some amazing revelation that He will impart to me.

It may be something small.

But that would be the best of all.

Waiting

I tacked it up there just a few days ago... that paper torn out of a coloring book. The edge ragged, the colors pre-painted on so that even the most unskilled child could create a masterpiece. Belle and the newly changed Beast-to-prince dancing with a rose above their heads. Their smiles, the evident "ever-after" feeling of the picture always makes me smile. It hangs there on the wall... right beside the little card that is headed "True Love Waits." I couldn't think of anywhere else to put it... but after awhile, there seemed a home for it right there.

I find it hard. My heart goes to so many over the course of time. Attaching to some hope and feelings, others a pedestal that was never there. My heart gets bruised, but it's only my own fault, I know. And yet, as I look in the mirror every morning, my eyes are drawn to that card and to that picture. True love not only waits to share itself physically, but mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and that is something I have to work on.

Waiting is not something I like to do. I want the answers now, and I want them to be what I expected. But what I find my eyes drawn to the most is the rose. Some know, others don't, the importance of a rose to me. A rose means the very deepest, most romantic, most intimate part of me. It's my middle name. Although I love the flower because I am associated with it, I love it for other things. The way that it smells, for one. The deep, lingering, sweetness that is evident to anyone even anywhere near a rose. The way the color shifts in different parts of the flower, going from deep to light, to deep again. The variety in the flower... one to suit every mood.

Someday, he'll come. Hopefully sweep me off my feet... the shy romantic that I am. He'll pursue and woo. Show himself to be a man of godly character who loves kids and missions. He'll take the time to uncover all that I am.. every shifting shade, every color, every scent.

But until that day... I wait.

Provision

And yet...

When I face my fear one last time, determined to just feel nothing and get it done with... He provides in wondrous ways. It's as if He's been sitting there, going through my fear with me, but all the while knowing what's on the other side. And because of that knowledge, He smiles oh, so gently down at me and gives me enough courage to face it.

He provides in ways that are beyond my comprehension. As I received the thumbs up to go to Colombia, inside of me I was dancing with joy and excitement and my smile just wouldn't stop. But there was that corner of my mind, that niggling, annoying, responsible side, asking me where in the world I was going to get the money. I began to fear once again, even though I knew that He had pulled through many other times in the area of finances.

Then, out of the blue it seemed, I received a phone call. Asking if I would be willing to spend a few hours a week with one of those very close to His heart, all for a larger amount of money then I would have asked for. He provided, showing me that He could prepare me for the trip by testing my patience and creativity, all the while working with my skills and giving me something that I would enjoy. He provides.

Provision given by the chance to go and counsel at Camp for a few weeks this summer. The chance to put myself out there and to learn all that He wants me to. To learn that humility is the best and that I really don't have all the answers, although I think I do.

But, above all, provision because He loves. With a love that when shown has left me gasping, dancing, whirling, wanting to never stop because it's so full of everything that I long for that when I have it, I find it hard to comprehend. A love that He gives freely, and that I don't always want to receive. Sometimes I think I'm good enough, and then He just goes and shows me otherwise.

I don't know what I'm trying to say. Not really. Only that He's so good, it blows my mind! That I will never understand in this life why He chose me and why I go around thinking I have it made and all together. That He is an awesome God... who calls me to be still and come to know Him in all that He is.