Wasting Nothing

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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.

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.

Reminding Me

It's at times like this that the emotion runs coursing through my body and even music can't calm me down. When the urge to express my feelings reaches out to the solace found in black words on a white page typed by my hands.

When that moment comes when your brain is fighting every fibre of your body because something needs to change and it. just. can't. And your voice has obeyed you before, when no one's been watching. But now, when it counts, it won't happen. It's as if your mind has a keyhole and the key that you're trying is the wrong one.

And you can't make your voice follow the instructions as much as you long for it to. Yet you're stubborn enough to hide the tears starting to well up in your eyes and explain away the catch in your voice and that acidic sting in your nose.

Is it a battle for humility versus pride? Is there something that I'm missing? Do I just need bare everything, or can I find that key, or... what?

And she comforts and speaks words of love over me and yet I can't accept them because I feel as if I failed.

And it hits me that I've failed to be that strong tower, to be impregnable, and I don't. want. to. let. that. wall. down.

And as it hits me I realized that I've realized something fundamental.

I didn't tell her what was going on inside my head the entire time.

I'm too independent for my own good. Too focused on how others see me. Too analytical. Too much of an Eeyore.

And I exited the building, with the crunching of leaves beneath my feet, and I stand still, gasping as I cry the only way that I do... silently and for a few seconds, without any tears escaping. And then I carry on walking, wiping away the wetness that did trickle down and just wanting to be alone.

Even as I write that, I find it slightly ironic that my version of "alone-ness" means being cradled in the understanding that simple, stark words on a page give me.

And I found myself asking why I ever did this. Put myself in a position to go through this.

Then, He comes knocking. And, oh, how I want to push Him aside. How I want to continue to be the center of my pity-party.

But He won't let me be.

"Have I not given you this opportunity to develop the gift that I have given you? Have I not placed you in this very place to be stretched and broken because of the lessons that I have to teach you about humbleness? Do I not do what is good?"

And it leaves me feeling very Eeyore-ish, but glad that my life is held in the hands of One who knows what He's doing.

The Answer to My Hosanna

Woke up "late" this morning, ate breakfast and did my devotions in peace after seven extra people in the house this weekend. Getting ready to go to church, the calm and quiet was the perfect balm for the harried and people filled last few days.

Although I wouldn't trade them for anything, these past few days have been filled with the hustle and bustle of everyday life combined with balancing my two worlds of school and the spring play.

And so I slipped on shoes, zipped up my coat, and set foot in the beautiful world outside.

It's turning to spring (fingers crossed) and the weather outside is gorgeous, if but a tad windy.

I reveled in the quiet, the distant greetings of seniors as they made their way to church, the way the new green tips of the fir trees contrasted against the clear blue of the sky, and how at peace everything was.

I didn't need to say a word.

We just sat there, in a way, me and Him. Me: listening, smiling, and loving Him for all that He has created. Him: smiling at my joy and agreeing with me.

I arrived at church, greeted people I knew and truly worshiped as the songs were sung, and others around seemingly faded as this joy and peace settled over me and I was in a moment of thanksgiving.

And the pastor got up and started speaking, and it took me by surprise to find out that today was Palm Sunday.

The pastor started talking about how He walked over the Mount of Olives and rode a donkey, fulfilling key prophecies that people recognized by calling Him the Son of David.

But the other thing that they called out, while laying down robes and palm branches.... a Hosanna.

A way of praising... but its meaning? Something that made think:

"Please save" or "save now".

They were crying this out as the one whose name is Jesus, Yeshua, the Lord who saves, was riding into Jerusalem.

Do you see the promise? Hear the eminent coming of a victory?

And not that long after, He answered their cry.

He answered by hanging on a cross, by providing a way to be saved.

It's so sad how sometimes we as a culture, and most definitely me, as an individual, view Easter as a time of no school, more church services, spending time with family, of even gruesome death and pain.

But view it as the fulfillment of centuries of people's groaning, pain, suffering, and crying out of "Hosanna!"?

Viewing it as the answer to my cry of "Hosanna!" when life overwhelms and threatens to crush the joy of life out of me?

Easter brings so much more than dyeing eggs, dressing up little children in cute clothes, spending time with family and taking a much-needed breather.

It brings the answer to the world's cry of "Hosanna!".

In Her Eyes

To my Munchkin:

You sat there on the bed, head bent down, resting. Your normally rambunctious spirit is growing up into a joyful, somewhat more subdued one. And I settle myself on the floor and look up into your eyes.

And I see need.

And so I fulfill it. "God loves you SOO much. Did you know that? And Rose loves you SOO much too." Your smile begins to creep across your face and your eyes change.
"Your Mum and Dad also love you. Your sister too, your helpers at work, the people you talk to in the middle of the street."
"They love you because of your smile..." You grin. "Because of your joy, because of your hugs, and because of who you are."

"You're growing up into a beautiful young lady." You points to herself, and I nod. "Yes, you."

And it's your eyes that have me captivated. Those eyes that can be green or blue depending on when and how I see them. They can be mischievous, sorry, joyful, sad, happy, angry, pouting, or needful.

And they tell me of a longing that some may see as unnecessary given your "disabilities."

They tell me of the longing to be loved for who you are inside. For who you are honestly, when everything that stands in the way is stripped away and your personality stands quivering under examination.

And I have come to know you for who you really are. I still find if funny how we can walk down a street hand in hand, honest-to-goodness having a conversation without you saying a word.

Your hands, your communication to the outside world... they are beautiful. People stare and I just smile back. Having known you, I wouldn't trade any of the misunderstandings, embarrassments, or frustrations for any of the hugs, tears of joy, laughs, conversations, walks, and moments that we have had together.

How little I knew when I first walked into your home so many months ago.

And how much I still have to learn about you.

How often have you had someone tell you what a beautiful person you are inside and out?

I don't think you realize how much of a gift you are to me. How much you've taught me in the eight or so months that we've known each other.

And I hope that I can give a little bit of that gift back to you. Affirming instead of reprimanding you. Giving you tough love when you need it, but also giving you new challenges to overcome.

To encourage you to grow and to not hold you back in the little box of what you are now when your potential is huge.

It's such a privilege to get to know you. When I spend time with you, the outside world stops. Number one, because you never hold to anyone's schedule but your own, so I've given up trying. But, number two, because being with you teaches me again and again what is important in the world.

I hope that I never lose your friendship, your trust, or your laughter.

But most of all, I hope that I never lose being able to see your eyes.... and through them.

~ Your Rose

When I Don't Understand

We crouched there, on the broken tile courtyard, creating pretty pictures with sidewalk chalk.

Surrounded by clumps of kids, we talked, giggled, and played tic-tac-toe.

And in my peripheral vision, something caught my eye. Kids were starting to colour inbetween the broken tiles instead of on them, and the first though that came to my mind was: Why are they wasting this beautiful chalk?

I wanted to say something, but I didn't, and as time passed... something happened.

What I had seen as messy, unncessary, childish wastefulness earlier, turned into something so beautiful, unique, and out-of-the-box that I was astonished.

 
And as I'm back here and trying to apply the lessons that I learned while in Colombia about my everday mission, what my gifts, passions, and talents are, and what God can do through someone who lets go of everything.... these pictures keep on coming back.

Right now, life is messy. It doesn't always make sense, there's much on my plate and yet I procrastinate.

He's teaching me, and I resist. I try and do it all on my own, and He shows me how that really is impossible.

I feel overwhelmed and like nothing makes sense, and yet life goes on and He gives me strength to persevere and to do my best right here.

But I know that in the end, I'll look back on what I viewed as the unncessary and see how vital it really was. I'll look back on the messy and see what beauty it created later on.

He's working on the masterpiece of me... and it's messy.

But He knows what He's doing. And someday I'll stand before His throne and understand the whys, whens, and hows.

In brokenness... there is beauty.

As He Answers

I stood there at the foosball table, eyes roaming over the building scattered about with children playing, laughing... being engaged in activities. And as I waited for the next person to come along who would claim my attention, I prayed.

Leading up to this day, we had been told to pray constantly for these kids who were coming for the first time to this ministry.

So I sat there, bathing each precious face in prayer and begging Him to act on His promise of a future and a hope, of good and not evil.

And as I stood there, I heard the words.

Words mingled with music, laughter, shouting, words of instruction.... words that meant so much.

"I called, You answered. And You came to my rescue and I wanna be where You are..."

Repeated over and over and over.

Speaking of the power of One who does listen to prayers, but, even more, answers them. And even though these kids have been placed in a situation that seems desperate.... He knows.

He cares.... He loves... He answers.

And as I'm gone, and am physically too far away to lift up each face and to see that smile, and to shiver with joy inside at the beauty that He's made... I'm never too far away to pray.

I sit here, remembering all that has gone on... thinking with incredulity that two weeks ago, I was there.

And as He answers prayer about this summer, about who He is, about people that are close to my heart... He also answers my prayer for these ministries, for those godly people, for those children still there.

I'm learning a little bit day by day, what "pray without ceasing" means.

What talking, conversing, sharing, laughing at quirks, rejoicing... every moment... means.

And I'm learning how much He loves to hear my voice.

He loves to hear yours, too.

I can just imagine the smile that comes to His face when we bring Him the beautiful, the ugly, the snarls, the sweet sorrows, the pain.... our lives.

And I can just imagine Him saying in a voice just above a whisper, "My precious one... I love to hear you speak. To hear you say that your heart rejoices in what I have made, to hear it break for others less fortunate than you. But know... I made them, too. So don't worry.... I've got it covered."

So, although I remember their faces, I also remember that they are even more ever-present in His mind.

And I can let go of any worries that I hold.

And pray... knowing that He will, He does, He is going to... answer.

Faithful

Although this new phrase came into my attention more than a week ago, I've simply been either too swamped or lazy to have written anything about it.

Once again, I was flipping through my Bible, looking at all the things that He had shown me while I had read through it (I finished reading through it for the second time this past year). Finding underlined commandments, promises, challenges and everything else that is found in this amazing book.

Somehow the Old Testament has always held a big fascination to me. Looking at my Bible, there is considerably more gilt rubbed off the pages at the top of the first half than in the latter half.

I think it has something to do with promises. 

They're always there, and in times when I feel as if everything else is going downhill, I know that I can claim them and that everything else is under His control. 

And I reached the famous passage of Jeremiah 29:11, and read all three of the verses I had underlined there: 

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me." Jeremiah 29:11-13 (NLT)

And as much as the first verse has hit me hard in the past, it was the last one that caught my attention. 

Because there are no ands... no buts... no what ifs. 

If I pursue him wholeheartedly, letting go of all distractions, and search for Him in the brokenness, in the joy, in the pain, in the delight, in the everyday and the ordinary.... I will find Him.

The Creator, Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Lover, Provider, my All in All, and everything else that He is. 

And that's my pursuit this year. 

To seek Him with nothing held back. 

Knowing that I will find Him in the fullness of all that He is. 

Knowing... that He is faithful. 

Risk

At last week's Colombia meeting, S showed us some pictures from the Colombia trip last year. I'm already starting to get excited as the date creeps closer and closer (less than 75 days!), but as she neared the end of her pictures, she brought up something that I hadn't been formerly informed about. She turned to a few pictures of kids playing around in a yard, a big imposing house in the background and then explained... that we're visiting a physically and mentally disabled holding house.

As S was telling her story of seeing things that white people aren't normally allowed to see there, my heart tugged and I wanted to change it. Wanted to make all the boo-boos better. Because, people who have nobody else is a very real *passion* of mine. And I'm so excited to see how He's going to grow and make that passion flourish when I'm surrounded by those in need. I love playing with kids, getting them to laugh, making up games, passing the time marveling at the world with them... but I'm also scared.

Scared that I will crawl back into my old shell, will be introverted, will not plunk down and feel instantly at home and start playing with kids. Because... I've always been afraid of getting hurt. Not physically, but emotionally. Of heartache, of pain, of sorrow, of tears.

I've had a lot of that in my life. A lot of pulling away, being uprooted, saying good-bye. Or.. even worse... not being able to say good-bye at all. Of having to leave a country where I grew up and never get to go to my childhood haunts and say good-bye. And I'm scared to bare my heart for all to latch onto, and then to be ripped away again. But... maybe He's calling me to that. Maybe... just, maybe, He's calling me to let it hurt. To let Him work through a passion and calling strong in my heart. To allowing Him to work through my affections to craft me into a more caring and affectionate person. But it hurts.

And these thoughts brought to mind something that I wrote less than a year ago. Because these struggles will come back time and again, when I'm faced with loving those who I think are unlovable, with those that I don't want to risk having my heart attached to. When I love.

Love (March 20th, 2011)

So often when I look around
there are people
without a sound
longing to be loved.

But when I'm among them
Only casual greetings pass my lips
And when alone I search
and find
that I'm afraid.

Afraid of what might happen
if I let go
Fearful of the repercussions
of letting my heart show

To open my arms
and heart to a world of need
Takes one who is higher than me
I am so used
to saying good-bye
Of tears and uprooted feelings

Through it all,
My heart's gotten wise
And built a wall
Tall and wide

So each day I work
Taking, brick by brick,
Apart this wall of
Shelter my heart has built.

 And with new eyes enter
A world that is pleading
to know the One above
So, taking my chances...

I let go of fear
Of reproof, dismissal, disdain,
and open wide a helping heart
Realizing what love's really about

It's not about feelings
although those play a part
It's a choice to let go
Of getting dirty and low...

 And allowing the hurt,
The pain and the dirt
Finding that love...
is about holding nothing back.

Laughter

We roll on the ground, my friend and I. Doing ridiculous things on her computer, posing for pictures, for which she ducks away. And it's while I fall asleep and listen to her talk, that I thank Him for giving me friends with whom I feel safe.

They're the ones with whom I can share anything and not feel ashamed. To be told their own worries and to see that we're all human. That nothing changes, except that we can choose to judge or to forgive and look beyond. He has blessed me in an overabundance with friends who are willing to draw me close, to forgive my lack of spontaneous calling and excursion planning. To allow me to be me, in all my originality. I only hope that I, in turn, can do the same for them.

To reach out to those whom some may say are unreachable. To push myself beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone to offer the comfort that I've been given. To see their lives changed by simply sharing what I've been given.

One of the greatest gifts that I've been given is laughter. Everyone has it... although, some need it to be unearthed. Sometimes it hides the pain, and sometimes it comes through tears, but laughter is what binds friends.