Lately, I find myself itching for something. Rather, aching for something. Something beyond me and something that is more than just flesh and bones. Some kind of unquenchable thirst for something that satisfies everything I want and need. The fact that I long for it led C.S. Lewis to believe that it exists. He says that the longings for satisfaction and contentment and eternity come because such a thing exists that will fully meet all those longings.
I long for a place, or maybe a person who is utterly and wholly ‘other.’ I am unable to put my finger on exactly what I am looking for, but I know I need it.
Colorado was a glimpse of this. I remember wanting BEAUTY, a place where I could get lost in creation, where I could breathe fresh air and completely slip away from the hustle and bustle of life; in a word, a place of peace. The Rocky Mountains gave me the sense of that for a fleeting instant, and yet even in the middle of the great outdoors…something is still missing. I am unable to fully articulate it, and my listeners are much less able to understand and feel it with me fully. The gap. The ever expanding gap in the space between. My heart seems to know exactly what I am looking for, but is keeping it a secret from my head. I long for something that is just outside of my experience, but it seems that my soul knows it’s there. Just beyond my grasp. My longing propels me to search, with the hope that when I arrive at the destination, my heart will exclaim “Yes! This is exactly what I was looking for.”
Today I am forever tied with C.S. Lewis, to heaven. The idea of being fully content and fully satisfied and wholly rid of this skin that makes me unable to experience any of it. Today I feel the eternity that was set in my heart by my beloved Jesus.
“If a transtemporal, transfinite good is our real destiny, then any other good on which our desire fixes must be in some degree fallacious, must bear at best only a symbolical relation to what will truly satisfy. …The secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of a name.
These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.
We remain conscious of a desire which no natural happiness will satisfy.…For a few minutes we have had the illusion of belonging to that world. Now we wake to find that it is no such thing. We have been mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us. We have not been accepted, welcomed, or taken into the dance.
The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. And surely, from this point of view, the promise of glory, in the sense described, becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory meant good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things. The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last. Perhaps it seems rather crude to describe glory as the fact of being “noticed” by God.”
-C.S. Lewis
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Psalm 91
Some days, and I take great lengths to remember and drink deeply of the joys of life, I feel like dancing and singing and shouting. I twirl and laugh for no reason. I drive with the windows down. I feel happiness to an infinite degree and everything is beautiful and magnificent and life seems breezy. Days when the sun is out, it's warm and I am eating fresh pineapple. Days when things seem right and good in the world. Like a sunset at the park. Or a night with old friends playing games around a fire.
And then, gravity sometimes sets in and some days feel more like life has woken you up abruptly and you are frazzled and your hair looks a hot mess. And you're always late. Days when you are sick and tired and outside in the cold with inadequate clothing. Times when nothing seems worth it and everyone is against you. When you feel attacked or threatened or like you are being pulled in a million directions for a million reasons when all you want is solitude or to be in your bed. And yet we drink deeply of these too. The fight. The dark night of the soul.
One minute it’s sunny, and the next minute it’s hailing.
I want to confess that I have been wrestling. I have been blatantly disobedient to the call and stirrings of Christ and I have felt guilt and shame over it, and even still a resistance remains in my heart towards the things of God. Why? I know truth after truth about the goodness and mercy of God. And yet my fleshly heart is against Him. There is a resounding terror in the idea of my surrender to Christ, of being out of control. Of being led to a place of discomfort by a God who (in my head) is ready to crush me.
I have seen my struggle and these lies I believe accidently spill into other relationships and rear their heads as anything from insecurity to jealousy. Amidst my wrestle with God, I have let myself be covered in lies. And worse, I believe them. Isn’t that how it goes? We get away from our life source in Christ, and we just start making our messes messier. Lately, I have been all kinds of crazy and two shades of irritable. I think the key to my distress is my lack of intimacy with Christ. My very skewed version of who God really is, and what he thinks of me. And so, with eyes to the ground, tear stained cheeks, and feeble/wobbly knees I am taking steps back towards what is true.
And true is this:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you. If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." -Psalm 91
"The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” -Zephaniah 3:17
There are a lot of things that I want to be. That I think I am. Things that define me and things that are true of me. I could make a long list of words that I think define me or at least the ones that I want to define me. And my motivation behind having this definition, this persona that is all that I am and all that I want to be, is at some deep level I need to feel wanted. Against all my rational and known truths, I believe that I must perform a certain way in order that God will actually want me.
Despite my best attempts at fierce independence and nonchalance, I honestly want approval. I want to know that I am doing okay, that I am on track, that I am going in the right direction. I want justification and affirmation and acceptance. I think it’s the result of my human nature, a fallen world and the burden that all of us (at some level) bear. And so at the depths of my very fragile heart, my life is constantly being set beside a measuring stick. Am I funny? Am I pretty? Am I good? Am I right? Am I okay? Am I wanted?
In this single moment, though, I am met with the challenge to stop trying so hard to be the girl I think I am supposed to be. To instead, “dwell in the shelter of the Most High, and find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” To yield to the God unseen, and to just be. To just exist in the sweet surrender of breathing in the breath that He has given me for this one hour. It’s a bitter pill for my pride to swallow to give up any and all expectations that I have set for myself.
Still, I feel begged, right now, to just be Ally. Nothing more, nothing less. Defined by nothing other than Christ’s love for me. Maybe today I could just sit in the magnitude of His adoration for me. Maybe I could just revel in how He recklessly loves me. To the depths of my soul. Without any performance from me. He wants me. Adores me. And this love drenches me when I am not funny. When I am disobedient. When I am clumsy and emotional and frustrated and wildly out of control crazy. It is then that he whispers “You are mine.” He knows me more fully than I know myself, the depths and the heights of every crevice of my soul and he responds “I want you.”
And in that, my weary soul finds rest.
And then, gravity sometimes sets in and some days feel more like life has woken you up abruptly and you are frazzled and your hair looks a hot mess. And you're always late. Days when you are sick and tired and outside in the cold with inadequate clothing. Times when nothing seems worth it and everyone is against you. When you feel attacked or threatened or like you are being pulled in a million directions for a million reasons when all you want is solitude or to be in your bed. And yet we drink deeply of these too. The fight. The dark night of the soul.
One minute it’s sunny, and the next minute it’s hailing.
I want to confess that I have been wrestling. I have been blatantly disobedient to the call and stirrings of Christ and I have felt guilt and shame over it, and even still a resistance remains in my heart towards the things of God. Why? I know truth after truth about the goodness and mercy of God. And yet my fleshly heart is against Him. There is a resounding terror in the idea of my surrender to Christ, of being out of control. Of being led to a place of discomfort by a God who (in my head) is ready to crush me.
I have seen my struggle and these lies I believe accidently spill into other relationships and rear their heads as anything from insecurity to jealousy. Amidst my wrestle with God, I have let myself be covered in lies. And worse, I believe them. Isn’t that how it goes? We get away from our life source in Christ, and we just start making our messes messier. Lately, I have been all kinds of crazy and two shades of irritable. I think the key to my distress is my lack of intimacy with Christ. My very skewed version of who God really is, and what he thinks of me. And so, with eyes to the ground, tear stained cheeks, and feeble/wobbly knees I am taking steps back towards what is true.
And true is this:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you. If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." -Psalm 91
"The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” -Zephaniah 3:17
There are a lot of things that I want to be. That I think I am. Things that define me and things that are true of me. I could make a long list of words that I think define me or at least the ones that I want to define me. And my motivation behind having this definition, this persona that is all that I am and all that I want to be, is at some deep level I need to feel wanted. Against all my rational and known truths, I believe that I must perform a certain way in order that God will actually want me.
Despite my best attempts at fierce independence and nonchalance, I honestly want approval. I want to know that I am doing okay, that I am on track, that I am going in the right direction. I want justification and affirmation and acceptance. I think it’s the result of my human nature, a fallen world and the burden that all of us (at some level) bear. And so at the depths of my very fragile heart, my life is constantly being set beside a measuring stick. Am I funny? Am I pretty? Am I good? Am I right? Am I okay? Am I wanted?
In this single moment, though, I am met with the challenge to stop trying so hard to be the girl I think I am supposed to be. To instead, “dwell in the shelter of the Most High, and find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” To yield to the God unseen, and to just be. To just exist in the sweet surrender of breathing in the breath that He has given me for this one hour. It’s a bitter pill for my pride to swallow to give up any and all expectations that I have set for myself.
Still, I feel begged, right now, to just be Ally. Nothing more, nothing less. Defined by nothing other than Christ’s love for me. Maybe today I could just sit in the magnitude of His adoration for me. Maybe I could just revel in how He recklessly loves me. To the depths of my soul. Without any performance from me. He wants me. Adores me. And this love drenches me when I am not funny. When I am disobedient. When I am clumsy and emotional and frustrated and wildly out of control crazy. It is then that he whispers “You are mine.” He knows me more fully than I know myself, the depths and the heights of every crevice of my soul and he responds “I want you.”
And in that, my weary soul finds rest.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
In Christ Alone
Banking my decisions, fears, hopes, dreams, and life on this truth:
"In Christ alone my hope is found.
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace.
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones he came to save;
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied -
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain.
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave he rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me.
For I am His and He is mine -
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.
No guilt in life, no fear in death.
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man;
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand."
"In Christ alone my hope is found.
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace.
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones he came to save;
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied -
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain.
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave he rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me.
For I am His and He is mine -
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.
No guilt in life, no fear in death.
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man;
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand."
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Reason for the Season
I love Christmas season. And I love that the reason is exists is because Jesus Christ was born. Hallelujah! Matt Chandler and the Village Church are doing an Advent campaign to “get underneath the meaning of Christmas” instead of getting caught up in all of the presents and shopping and stress and binge eating. Which is difficult assuming that we live consumer driven America. But I am going to join them in their feat.
God has been teaching me a lot of things lately and the most resounding theme goes under the title of: I CANNOT FIX MYSELF. What a crazy easy thing to believe in my head, but my heart is so very reluctant. I mean seriously. I honestly think that if I try hard enough, I will be able to fix myself. I can be better. I can stop this, or start that and STICK WITH IT. I can decide today that I want to be a certain thing, and succeed. I think I can take control and make myself into the person that I want to be. The sad truth is that I cannot. I absolutely and positively cannot. I am hopeless and sick and in need of a Savior.
We are all guilty of the same thing: rebellion against God. And whether it manifests itself in an obvious manner or whether we are living in pride or secret sin, the point remains. We are all guilty. There is not one who is good, by nature. We are by our nature objects of God’s wrath. We are actually incapable of righteousness. CUE: THE GOSPEL.
The gospel, if anything, is a story about remarkably wicked people who cannot fix themselves, and how God—in his never ending love and mercy—answers to our problem. It’s the most marvelous story of all time, and the best news to those of us who are failing miserably at “being better.” I despise not being in control, but the beauty of the gospel is that I don’t have to be, because God is.
God is all about God being glorified, which translates into God being about our joy. His provision, care, and love for me is NOT because I am spectacular but because HE is spectacular. God is glorified by his coming to save sinners. Jesus came to save and heal what could not save or heal itself.
So for those of us who are tired of trying to be better, forgiveness is here. We can let go of our clenched fists over the control of our life because Jesus Christ was born. God has made a way. And that is something to celebrate, people. In the highest degree.
God has been teaching me a lot of things lately and the most resounding theme goes under the title of: I CANNOT FIX MYSELF. What a crazy easy thing to believe in my head, but my heart is so very reluctant. I mean seriously. I honestly think that if I try hard enough, I will be able to fix myself. I can be better. I can stop this, or start that and STICK WITH IT. I can decide today that I want to be a certain thing, and succeed. I think I can take control and make myself into the person that I want to be. The sad truth is that I cannot. I absolutely and positively cannot. I am hopeless and sick and in need of a Savior.
We are all guilty of the same thing: rebellion against God. And whether it manifests itself in an obvious manner or whether we are living in pride or secret sin, the point remains. We are all guilty. There is not one who is good, by nature. We are by our nature objects of God’s wrath. We are actually incapable of righteousness. CUE: THE GOSPEL.
The gospel, if anything, is a story about remarkably wicked people who cannot fix themselves, and how God—in his never ending love and mercy—answers to our problem. It’s the most marvelous story of all time, and the best news to those of us who are failing miserably at “being better.” I despise not being in control, but the beauty of the gospel is that I don’t have to be, because God is.
God is all about God being glorified, which translates into God being about our joy. His provision, care, and love for me is NOT because I am spectacular but because HE is spectacular. God is glorified by his coming to save sinners. Jesus came to save and heal what could not save or heal itself.
So for those of us who are tired of trying to be better, forgiveness is here. We can let go of our clenched fists over the control of our life because Jesus Christ was born. God has made a way. And that is something to celebrate, people. In the highest degree.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Contradictions
God bless Texas. This weekend was one for the books as about 4 of my worlds collided in College Station, Texas. Sweet Home College Station. All crammed around a table at blue baker was my littlest sister and co-bro KabeKabe, my long lost best friend Megan Templin, precious and dearly loved Rita O’Connor (the prettiest girl you will ever see in real life), the funniest girl in the world, @SydneyShrum, and finally my Denver based blonde best Bethany Brueggen. My heart was so overwhelmed with love that I could hardly stand it.
Have I told yall how much I love my littlest sister? Seriously, Brittney is the most amazing person that I know. We work like puzzle pieces. I mean honestly, I am going to call 60 minutes and have them do a special on us for being the first siemese twins to not be born attached...or born the same year. We are going to be so rich.
This weekend was the best weekend ever for multiple reasons that include but are not limited to the following list:
• Most of my favorite people were all in one place. (*However, it felt wrong to be in College Station without Becca Feagin and Lauren Wood)
• I spent the weekend enjoying WARM Texas weather!
• The Texas Rangers are going to the World Series again! YAHOO!
• The fightin’ Texas Aggies showed up on Saturday for the second half (finally) and BTHO Baylor!
• I attended an collegiate football game and tailgated afterwards, so it finally REALLY feels like football season. (I am weary of this ‘I don’t care about football’ Colorado baditude)
• I ate at Blue Baker. Twice.
Being in Texas always ignites some intense nostalgia in me. It is a very weird feeling to ‘go home’ to Texas, and then ‘come home’ to Denver. Both feel like home in some ways, but each is so very different. I love both places tremendously, and am not sure where in my head to store these contradicting emotions. I love being able to confidently put to words what I am feeling, what I am thinking. But alas, I am at a loss for words. There is no amount of letters strung together that could explain the condition of my heart when it comes to the war of Texas versus Colorado.
I love Texas. I love Colorado. I laugh in Texas. I love well in Colorado. I love the heat and sunshine. I love the snow and mountains. I have friends who love me well in Texas. I have friends who love me well in Colorado. Texas is comfortable. Colorado is new and exciting. Texas is home. Colorado is an adventure. I am prideful about being from Texas. I am prideful about living in Colorado. Texas boasts lakes, wakeboarding and familiarity. Colorado boasts mountains, snowboarding and crisp October air. Texas’ environment is welcoming and comfortable. Colorado’s environment is interesting and fascinating. And amidst the confusion of where my heart lies, I have to simply accept that it can lie in both places. I love Texas and I love Colorado.
However, for this time, for this fleeting instant that God has given me, I have an overwhelming sense of peace that I am where I am supposed to be. I know that God called me specifically to Denver, and that he has provided in ways that only could have come from His creative hand. I know that I am a better person since I have moved to Colorado, and that being removed from my comfort zone has pushed me to grow up, mature, and press into the Lord that called me to adventure. I trust that God is doing something in and through me while I reside in this mountainous wonderland that hosts the most beautiful Octobers. And while I cried my eyes out yesterday as I hugged the necks of my comfortable better than best friends and family, I know that they support the fact that I am living a life surrendered to a God that called me far away from them.
As we drove in opposite directions with tears streaming down our faces, Rita sent me a text saying that “we are the lucky ones…so thankful the Lord has allowed us to belong to such an incredible group of friends.” And she is so profoundly right. My heart wouldn’t feel as if it was being ripped from my chest at the Houston airport if it wasn’t for the fact that I love my friends hard. And because they love me back, regardless of the fact that most of them have seen me at my worst. I am convinced that I have the best friends in the world. And like Beef says, “you can always come home.” I am so overwhelmed with love for the people that God has placed in my life to love me well, to partner with me in this life. I so appreciate the girls who are willing to love me well from a distance when I board an airplane back to my dream life. And on top of that, I am thankful for the girl who sat next to me on the plane back to Colorado, comforted me and loves me like Christ does while here in Denver. Oh God, you are too gracious to this unworthy soul.
So I am happy to be back in Colorado. And I still miss Texas. I am choosing today to rest in the plan that God has sovereignty put in motion for me, and trusting Him to accomplish His will in my life. By His mercy and grace alone. Come, Lord Jesus.
Have I told yall how much I love my littlest sister? Seriously, Brittney is the most amazing person that I know. We work like puzzle pieces. I mean honestly, I am going to call 60 minutes and have them do a special on us for being the first siemese twins to not be born attached...or born the same year. We are going to be so rich.
This weekend was the best weekend ever for multiple reasons that include but are not limited to the following list:
• Most of my favorite people were all in one place. (*However, it felt wrong to be in College Station without Becca Feagin and Lauren Wood)
• I spent the weekend enjoying WARM Texas weather!
• The Texas Rangers are going to the World Series again! YAHOO!
• The fightin’ Texas Aggies showed up on Saturday for the second half (finally) and BTHO Baylor!
• I attended an collegiate football game and tailgated afterwards, so it finally REALLY feels like football season. (I am weary of this ‘I don’t care about football’ Colorado baditude)
• I ate at Blue Baker. Twice.
Being in Texas always ignites some intense nostalgia in me. It is a very weird feeling to ‘go home’ to Texas, and then ‘come home’ to Denver. Both feel like home in some ways, but each is so very different. I love both places tremendously, and am not sure where in my head to store these contradicting emotions. I love being able to confidently put to words what I am feeling, what I am thinking. But alas, I am at a loss for words. There is no amount of letters strung together that could explain the condition of my heart when it comes to the war of Texas versus Colorado.
I love Texas. I love Colorado. I laugh in Texas. I love well in Colorado. I love the heat and sunshine. I love the snow and mountains. I have friends who love me well in Texas. I have friends who love me well in Colorado. Texas is comfortable. Colorado is new and exciting. Texas is home. Colorado is an adventure. I am prideful about being from Texas. I am prideful about living in Colorado. Texas boasts lakes, wakeboarding and familiarity. Colorado boasts mountains, snowboarding and crisp October air. Texas’ environment is welcoming and comfortable. Colorado’s environment is interesting and fascinating. And amidst the confusion of where my heart lies, I have to simply accept that it can lie in both places. I love Texas and I love Colorado.
However, for this time, for this fleeting instant that God has given me, I have an overwhelming sense of peace that I am where I am supposed to be. I know that God called me specifically to Denver, and that he has provided in ways that only could have come from His creative hand. I know that I am a better person since I have moved to Colorado, and that being removed from my comfort zone has pushed me to grow up, mature, and press into the Lord that called me to adventure. I trust that God is doing something in and through me while I reside in this mountainous wonderland that hosts the most beautiful Octobers. And while I cried my eyes out yesterday as I hugged the necks of my comfortable better than best friends and family, I know that they support the fact that I am living a life surrendered to a God that called me far away from them.
As we drove in opposite directions with tears streaming down our faces, Rita sent me a text saying that “we are the lucky ones…so thankful the Lord has allowed us to belong to such an incredible group of friends.” And she is so profoundly right. My heart wouldn’t feel as if it was being ripped from my chest at the Houston airport if it wasn’t for the fact that I love my friends hard. And because they love me back, regardless of the fact that most of them have seen me at my worst. I am convinced that I have the best friends in the world. And like Beef says, “you can always come home.” I am so overwhelmed with love for the people that God has placed in my life to love me well, to partner with me in this life. I so appreciate the girls who are willing to love me well from a distance when I board an airplane back to my dream life. And on top of that, I am thankful for the girl who sat next to me on the plane back to Colorado, comforted me and loves me like Christ does while here in Denver. Oh God, you are too gracious to this unworthy soul.
So I am happy to be back in Colorado. And I still miss Texas. I am choosing today to rest in the plan that God has sovereignty put in motion for me, and trusting Him to accomplish His will in my life. By His mercy and grace alone. Come, Lord Jesus.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Hallelujah
It is not enough to know God as a theory, or feel some fleeting moments of affection for Him. Our faith must be alive, and by its means lift ourselves beyond passing emotions to worship God in his Divine Perfection.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Crazy Hurts
I read a blog that was titled “crazy hurts." I don’t know if that’s supposed to be interpreted where crazy is the adjective and hurts is the noun, as in, “that was too many crazy hurts for one week” but I interpreted differently. I think crazy is the noun - as in “being 'crazy' hurts.”
Can you guys believe I just used those big grammar words like ‘adjective’? Take that Mrs. Copeland! (My 9th grade teacher made our entire grade take a grammar course because, apparently, I used, too many, commas, in my essays, and had no respect, for the, laws, of English. But, look at me, NOW! Proof, that Jesus, overcomes!)
Anyways, I felt a deep heart tie with this girl I had never met who wrote the crazy hurts blog and who apparently knows what its like to suffer from “wack-job-ism”. And can we all just agree - crazy does hurt, it hurts bad! It will knock you over, kick you while you are down, and spit on your face. Being crazy is the worst. I should know.
Speaking of crazy: This week I have had very little sleep thanks to my blonde best waking me up at 5AM every morning to go to Crossfit with our personal trainer, Aaron. I love and I hate Aaron, both emotions simultaneously. Not only this but I keep pushing myself to do more, and stay up later, and never say no for reasons that I am embarrassed to tell you. (It reveals a level of girly giddiness that I don’t like to own up to.) So because I have been going ninety-to-nothing all week, I have come face to face with the mortifying fact that I am not as young as I once was. I cannot stay up all night long and wake up and run and be active, and go to work, and have a social life…and remain sane. It’s an either-or situation. Give or take. Get sleep – Retain Composure. Don’t sleep – Spiral into emotional instability and blackout rage over essentially nothing, add crying for no reason.
Anyways its times like this that I come to Jesus. I need Jesus because when I get to this point of exhaustion I start becoming this insecure idiot baby and I cant pull my shiZ together. I start seeing everything and everyone in the world from an extremely worldly view and cant get out of my own head. I need Jesus because whenever I don’t get sleep, my identity seems to get lost in a lot of things that aren’t Christ, making me feel unstable and capable of mass chaos. Its times like this where I start laughing at things that are not funny (and this is not cute, warm, fuzzy laughter, I am talking about manic laughter that makes those around me feel uncomfortable). Its times like these when I feel as if I am stumbling along groping for any landmark that will give me hope that I am still even on the path.
So tonight I am skipping a camping trip (who am I?), and instead I am spending time with Jesus, begging Him to re-align my world, mind, thoughts, worth, identity (and anything else that has gone haywire this week) under His authority, and once again returning to my hiding spot under the grace and love of Christ.
Because when I am too tired, I become a Prodigal Pharisee, a self righteous rationalizer with an extreme capacity for rebellion and an intense desire to run away from all responsibility or obligation. And lets be honest, that’s a combination of the worst characters in the bible. But as it stands I am a repeat offender, a repeat confessor, and thankfully such a debtor to the grace that repeatedly sets me free.
And thankfully, God is good. He meets me here amidst my crazy. He meets with this exhausted wack job and makes me smile and cry the good tears, and gives me nights with no clouds and all stars. He meets me here with encouragement, and reminds me I am not alone. He quiets the fears that I am never going to get it right, and assures me that I have not missed some major memo on Christian sanctification that everyone else received. He meets me here when my ‘crazy’ is hurting and speaks worth into my soul. He meets me here as my Father, and He loves me and sits in my bed with me and sings over my sleep. He is God, and I am His. Tonight, I am resting in Him...and my crazy hurts a little less.
Come Lord Jesus.
Can you guys believe I just used those big grammar words like ‘adjective’? Take that Mrs. Copeland! (My 9th grade teacher made our entire grade take a grammar course because, apparently, I used, too many, commas, in my essays, and had no respect, for the, laws, of English. But, look at me, NOW! Proof, that Jesus, overcomes!)
Anyways, I felt a deep heart tie with this girl I had never met who wrote the crazy hurts blog and who apparently knows what its like to suffer from “wack-job-ism”. And can we all just agree - crazy does hurt, it hurts bad! It will knock you over, kick you while you are down, and spit on your face. Being crazy is the worst. I should know.
Speaking of crazy: This week I have had very little sleep thanks to my blonde best waking me up at 5AM every morning to go to Crossfit with our personal trainer, Aaron. I love and I hate Aaron, both emotions simultaneously. Not only this but I keep pushing myself to do more, and stay up later, and never say no for reasons that I am embarrassed to tell you. (It reveals a level of girly giddiness that I don’t like to own up to.) So because I have been going ninety-to-nothing all week, I have come face to face with the mortifying fact that I am not as young as I once was. I cannot stay up all night long and wake up and run and be active, and go to work, and have a social life…and remain sane. It’s an either-or situation. Give or take. Get sleep – Retain Composure. Don’t sleep – Spiral into emotional instability and blackout rage over essentially nothing, add crying for no reason.
Anyways its times like this that I come to Jesus. I need Jesus because when I get to this point of exhaustion I start becoming this insecure idiot baby and I cant pull my shiZ together. I start seeing everything and everyone in the world from an extremely worldly view and cant get out of my own head. I need Jesus because whenever I don’t get sleep, my identity seems to get lost in a lot of things that aren’t Christ, making me feel unstable and capable of mass chaos. Its times like this where I start laughing at things that are not funny (and this is not cute, warm, fuzzy laughter, I am talking about manic laughter that makes those around me feel uncomfortable). Its times like these when I feel as if I am stumbling along groping for any landmark that will give me hope that I am still even on the path.
So tonight I am skipping a camping trip (who am I?), and instead I am spending time with Jesus, begging Him to re-align my world, mind, thoughts, worth, identity (and anything else that has gone haywire this week) under His authority, and once again returning to my hiding spot under the grace and love of Christ.
Because when I am too tired, I become a Prodigal Pharisee, a self righteous rationalizer with an extreme capacity for rebellion and an intense desire to run away from all responsibility or obligation. And lets be honest, that’s a combination of the worst characters in the bible. But as it stands I am a repeat offender, a repeat confessor, and thankfully such a debtor to the grace that repeatedly sets me free.
And thankfully, God is good. He meets me here amidst my crazy. He meets with this exhausted wack job and makes me smile and cry the good tears, and gives me nights with no clouds and all stars. He meets me here with encouragement, and reminds me I am not alone. He quiets the fears that I am never going to get it right, and assures me that I have not missed some major memo on Christian sanctification that everyone else received. He meets me here when my ‘crazy’ is hurting and speaks worth into my soul. He meets me here as my Father, and He loves me and sits in my bed with me and sings over my sleep. He is God, and I am His. Tonight, I am resting in Him...and my crazy hurts a little less.
Come Lord Jesus.
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