Thinking Out Loud

I reread the last few posts I've written here today. I printed them off, tucked them inside the cover of my journal, and took them to work with me. I read them on my lunch break. They feel really honest, and, to be quite frank, somewhat exposing and raw.

I wonder if I should have shared the depths of my sense of inadequacy as I walk through this time in my life. I know God has called me to serve Him by caring for these individuals in crisis, but I wonder still what He could possibly see as my qualifications for this sort of service. And yes, you can't grow up a pastor's kid and not know that God will never call you to something without equipping you for it, and that that equipping comes in the moment it's most needed and never sooner. But still, I wonder.

I sat at lunch and thought about the conversation I had yesterday. My friend is facing some pretty big challenges in her life right now. There is a strong likelihood that the challenges will get bigger before they taper off. I listened for a while, and silently pleaded with God (as I had off and on for much of the afternoon before meeting up with her) to give me words - to speak - preferably loudly. I guess He did - although not loudly. As I began to respond to her, certain things became startlingly clear in my head. And I spoke them, challenging her to make some decisions, to rethink some she'd already made. I hope that was God. I think it was.

Everytime I answer my phone these days, I wonder what I'm going to get hit with next. I'm almost afraid to spend time praying and meditating, because each time I've paused lately, I have been made aware of deep wounds in my life. Can God use the walking wounded? Because at the moment my life is a mass of open wounds - wounds that He has exposed, but not yet healed. Wounds that are going to be a long time in healing, I think. I'm the walking wounded. And yet, the phone calls haven't stopped coming. The crises haven't slacked off. And I wonder...

I am confronted with spiritual realities that are new to me. Areas of darkness are huge in the life of my friend. And I am ill-equipped to face that. I know nothing of spiritual warfare. It was not a topic discussed in the home or the church I grew up in. Spiritual warfare in our home refers more directly to the realities of my dad's occasional mission trips to Ghana, not to something we deal with everyday. And yet, I am so very aware these last few months of the battle for my friend's heart, for my own heart a lot of days. I am aware that there is a battle, but I feel so incredibly ill-equipped for the reality of that statement. And that scares me.

I have surrounded myself with friends who have greater understanding and discernment in this area than I, two friends in particular. But the two of them are off traveling for the next couple weeks - enjoying a post-graduation road trip. They won't be back until nearly the end of the month, and in the mean time, the crisis around my friend in intensifying, and will probably continue to intensify for the foreseeable future - especially once her mom dies. As I dropped her at home yesterday, I wished for nothing so much as for my friends to be in town, because I had no idea how to respond. They're my backup. I emailed them, and the next time they're somewhere where they can check, I know they'll pray, but in the meantime, I have to continue to negotiate this situation. (And boys, if you read this - thanks for praying - I appreciate it. I hope the road trip is awesome, and I miss you guys!)

And I can't help but think, "how did I get here?" Because, that night, when I sat in my friend's car (November 1), and prayed at his encouragement, invited Jesus to enter my life in new ways. To allow me to experience Him and not just know about Him. Nothing that night indicated the kind of ride I was in for. And yes, I see major changes in my life. Things that stun me. Things that fall into the category of "I would have sworn I'd never do or never say that."

I was chatting with a friend from high school last night, and she read a bit of this blog for the first time, and commented, "it sounds like life has been pretty rough for you lately." Well, yes, that's true I guess. I'm tired all the time. I've been on 24/7 call for the last month or so. I've having weird dreams almost every night again. But I'm meeting God in stunning ways almost every day.

The word "vital" or "vitality" popped into my head just now as I tried to think of a way to describe what has changed in my life in the last few months. I looked it up in the dictionary, and vital has several parts to its definition. The parts that popped out at me were "essential to the existence or continuance of something" and "full of life and vigor". My life has felt vital this last little while. And after several years of depression, it is beautiful. I would so much rather be walking through wounds, than living in a place too numb to even see the existence of those wounds. I would much rather hear a painful word from God than never hear Him at all. I would much rather pour my life into caring for a friend in crisis than live in a world that is focused on my own depression.

And yes, I feel most days incredibly young and inadequate to walk out these things. But God is calling me ever further along this journey, and the vitality of the previous moment gives me the faith to take each tiny step to the next. I struggle to trust Him, but am at the moment choosing to acknowledge that He has been faithful these last months, never giving me anything beyond my ability to walk into it - even when it doesn't feel that way in the moment.

So, Jesus, here I am. Young, inadequate, feeling terrified and unworthy, but willing to do almost anything to keep hearing from you, to make these changes in my life continue. Abba, I am Yours.