All

It seems as if it's only on my Eeyore days that I blog... either that or days when there is quiet.

Or maybe it's simply because it seems like in every moment, I am being taught new things and if I kept a list to blog about, I would never get around to it.

Anywhos...

Recently, I was approached with a position for next year that requires leadership on my knees... and as I was contemplating the delightful burden that will be laid upon me next year, there was one devotional time where I was thinking about all that could happen and all that could fail and I reached a point.

A point where I had to say, "There is absolutely nothing in me that can inspire a dorm full of girls towards passionate prayer."

And a moment later, I whispered the words that He showed me. I whispered, "But that's the whole point, isn't it? That I can't. I am utterly unable. But you are totally capable. You can."

All He's looking for is a vessel. A person who is willing to be used even in ways that may seem ridiculous. Someone willing to hang on His every word and to move in His ways.

In leadership, I am called to be lead by a greater Leader. I am called to humility.

Over the last few days as I've been praying more and mulling things over, there was a time when He seemed to bop me over the head and say, "Umm.. excuse me? Isn't that what I've called you to do in every part of your life?"

Somehow I fall into the disillusion that I can do it all. That somehow I take what He teaches me and apply it to my life and get wisdom from Him and apply it in my life, and that's a part of it, but I've forgotten the part of letting go.

Of drawing near, so that I disappear and He appears in every action, thought and word. All I'm supposed to be is a human skin willing to be moved by His voice.

I used to think those people who were so attuned to Him were taking it a little too seriously and leaving fun behind, but there is no way that someone can claim to be consumed with God if they're not willing to lay down everything.

And you know what? There is so much joy, so much foundation, so much rightness when He's the center of everything.

There's no way that I've got things figured out - and there's such a paradox between me carrying out the work that He has laid before me and letting His Spirit move, but when I'm in His presence, it all sorts itself out.

I'm called to transparency, so that He may become apparent.

I'm called to nothingness, so that He may be all.

"Each time he said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now i am glad to boast about my weakness, so that the power of Christ can work through me." {2 Corinthians 12:9}

{Just found this song today and thought that it's so often what I miss when coming into His presence - to be a little child in my Father's arms}

In A Milestone

Another year gone and past, and I sit here in amazement, shaking my head at all that He's brought me through.

Read this verse this morning:
"But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his special favor on me -- and not without results. For I have worked harder than any of the other apostles; yet it was not I but God who was working through me by his grace." (1 Cor. 15:10, NLT)

And wrote this:
Looking back, there is no way that I can take credit for the place I am spiritually. I would've never chosen of myself to go through suffering or hardships and yet it's all because of them that I'm in the place I am today. Good thing it's in His hands and not mine! 

And I could be all verbose and wonderfully descriptive, and bring tears to your eyes because of His goodness (okay, I could only attempt and hope, but still...), but there's nothing more to say.

He is good.

And He is faithful.

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.