Tiny Things

I was inspired by this post that Sheri wrote, and thought I'd think for a minute or two and make my own list.

Tonight, I'm grateful for tiny things.

• For a warm bed to crawl into at the end of a long day at work.
• For a phone call that was less about crisis, and more about chatting.
• For the fact that my friend made a wise decision after our conversation this week when I was sure she wouldn't.
• For the quick lessons of reality that I've lived in the last couple of months.
• For a life that is not easy, but has vitality right now.
• For days when I can sleep in a little - and not have to wake from the bad dreams.
• For a good novel to curl up with.
• For friends who write interesting blog posts.
• For dried mango to eat.
• For a change in work schedule that means I won't have to work 10 straight days this month.
• For patience as I spent three hours dealing with a bridal couple at work today. (It should have taken just under an hour, but they were indecisive.)
• For a day that was busy at work, so the shift went quickly.
• For the song "Hallelujah" which my brother finally lent me the CD of. I've been looking for it ever since I read the article I mentioned here a while back. And then, God started teaching me to pray "hallelujah".
• For a family that loves me, even when we're battling over various issues.
• For the fact that my friend is choosing to allow people to see her vulnerability and accept help from some of us.
• For a moment when my friend wondered how I was doing - what was going on in my life, rather than sharing her latest crisis.
• For a level head, common sense, and an ability to chat aimlessly when necessary - all of which have been saving graces in crisis moments the last few weeks.
• For high speed internet that lets me indulge my need to blog, to read blogs, and to email.
• For a fantastic public library system that is feeding my reading obsession these days.
• For a relationship with God that seems to be growing, rather than stagnant.

Hi ho hi ho it's off to work I go...

Only I'm going to work this morning with decidedly less enthusiasm than the dwarfs!

Long night last night. I woke up over and over, and had quite a number of strange, blurry dreams that have again left me unsettled. I woke in a state of disarray - mentally, physically, emotionally, maybe even spiritually. Blah.

Of course, I went to bed frustrated, after a conversation with my parents, so that could account for at least part of how I woke up. Biting my tongue to keep from saying things that would have landed me in a great deal of hot water. Right now, we're not navigating the "I'm an adult and making my own decisions/You're still my child living under my roof" thing very well. I desperately need to either move out or buy a car and create some independence. We're battling over financial issues - which I happen to think is none of their business. I work for my money, and I pay my bills, and I'm not sure why my mom in particular feels the need to have massive amounts of input into my finances. I'm financially responsible - I just don't do things quite their way.

Most of the conversations we've had recently have felt like criticisms for the way I'm choosing to live my life - the way I handle my finances, the church I've chosen, the job I'm working in, sometimes even the way I handle my social life.

But, no time to muse on this now... I must be off to work and keep making money so I can keep being financially stable (unless, of course, my mother steps in!)

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.

Listening to God is...

"Listening to God is one of the most underwhelming, difficult, unfulfilling, confusing, and altogether frustrating experiences of my life."

A friend of mine wrote this sentence on his journal at our church website today. And it grabbed me when I sat down to read the entry tonight.

Because this is how I have felt lately. This is how I felt today.

This afternoon was one of the most stunning crisis moments yet. Everytime I think that things with this friend cannot possibly get worse, they seem to get astronomically worse. And I am left wondering if God maybe said the wrong name when He called me to serve her. If possibly God got confused and meant to appoint someone with age, wisdom and experience.

And so I sit there, and listen to her, and wonder what could possibly be the reason that I am being asked to do this. And God is stunningly silent. I listen to her, and I pray silently, begging him to take control of my lips as I begin to respond to the crisis. I don't know if He does - sometimes it feels like it. Sometimes there are insights that become suddenly clear, and I know that I need to share them. And sometimes, I just talk - practical common sense kind of things, and hope that those are God too.

And if positive steps are made while we talk, then the credit certainly belongs to God. Because who am I anyway? I'm twenty-two. I spent the last several years battling depression, nightmares, and emotional and spiritual issues. I have a degree in European history that hardly qualifies me to give sound insight on matters of physical, mental, emotional or spiritual health. On November 1, 2005, I met God in a more powerful and personal way than anything I've ever experienced, and my life has been a gong show ever since. He called me once again to serve, and it's been nuts. I've put out one fire after another. He's ripped open wounds in my life that I have no idea what to do with. I find myself on the brink of tears on a nearly daily basis as I think about these wounds - this from the girl who hasn't been able to cry in well over a year. I'm having weird dreams every night again - dreams that seem somehow significant, but for reasons I can't quite peg. I don't usually remember them, I just wake feeling restless and unsettled - a feeling that takes a couple hours to fight into submission. And yet, in the pit of my gut, I know I can't leave - ever. Because He's there, and He's doing crazy things, and I'm astonished every day that He's there. Wow!

But the fact remains that listening to Him is, well, all the things my friend named. And another friend swears to me that it will get better, get easier, and I hope he's right, because this is just crazy hard at the moment, and I could really use the "direct voice of God" in some of the wounds of my life, and in these crisis moments that I'm dealing with on such a regular basis.

Muddled, but gearing up

I've had three days off work this week. This is day three. The goal for the days was to rest and recuperate. I may have accomplished this.

At the present moment I'm gearing up. Today this means I am mentally preparing myself for some challenges, while eating multi-grain toast slathered with butter and strawberry jam. (Just as an aside - I don't quite understand multi-grain bread. To me, the concept of bread is something soft and delicious - multi-grain bread with bird-seed like stuff in it is just not quite there. But it's edible. It just won't ever measure up to a crispy warm loaf of white french bread. Plus, strawberry jam is definitely a second rate option next to raspberry, which we seem to be out of again.)

In a couple of hours, my friend who's mother is dying will come over. I'm a little scared for that conversation. I think things are going pretty badly for her. A couple days ago she started refusing to tell me what was going on over the phone - saying she'd tell me when she saw me. That always scares me with this particular friend. When I'm done posting, I'm going to crawl into my bed, turn on some David Crowder Band, do a little reading and a lot of praying to prepare myself for whatever comes next in this one.

After I meet with that friend, I'm spending the evening at a movie with another friend. I've known this one since I was six, but she's one of those friends who you have to "do" something with. You can't just sit down and have a conversation. It always makes me a little sad to spend time with her, because I see hurt in her life, but don't know how to touch it, have never been able to draw honesty or feeling from her. And as our relationship changed in university, I stopped sharing too. Oh, we'll cover the basics - what our families are up to, is there a guy in either of our lives, plans for the next while, but I'll come home, and it will still feel empty, and sad - the promise for so much more is there, but we can't seem to find it.

I go back to working full time tomorrow. I'm hoping for the best. I don't particularly love my job, but at the moment I don't hate it either. This next month will be filled with consultations - every bride getting married in the spring and summer wedding rush will be needing to set up gift registries, and my job is to ensure that the registry they create suits their needs and their guests budgets.

I'm still muddled. Still praying single word sentences. Someone suggested I might pray the word Grace - it's a good word. I've been praying a prayer Brennan Manning suggested in a sermon I listened to recently - "Abba, I am Yours." I'm trying to rest in that statement. To live there as I deal with some incredibly painful things that God has brought to light in my life. I feel like I'm thrashing, working hard to grab solid ground that isn't quite in reach. But I'm going to keep going. Because nothing in the previous years hurt this much - not the depression, not the numbing overwhelming struggle, but nothing felt like that moment of clarity when God reveals something, when He promises to begin a new work in your life, when He opens a wound but promises to heal it properly if I will only wait and allow Him to work. So, I'm clinging for dear life, treading water, whatever metaphor you want to use, but I'm never going back!