Awakening - And coming out of hiding

"Something inside is awakening. Like a dream I once had and forgot. And it's something I'm scared of and something I don't want to stop."
~Sara Groves, Awakening

I am coming to realize that prior to this winter I'd spent the better part of a year numb in my emotions. Perhaps more than that. Somewhere along the way I picked up this idea that my anger is unacceptable in every circumstance - even though it was caused by injustice. There was nothing I could do about that injustice so I had no choice but to ignore the anger and hope it would dissipate over time. I believe that my sadness equated unforgiveness and told myself that I must "get over it" in a hurry before anyone noticed or had much time to comment on it.

I don't think I was really afraid of anyone noticing my change in mood - I know I wear my emotions on my sleeve so some observance couldn't be avoided. It was the demand for an explanation that I feared. Because every reason for my change in countenance sounded like a lame excuse -- after all, He bore all of our iniquities and by His stripes you are healed, so why all this drama? I'm incapable of effectively hiding almost any emotion - so I developed a new tactic: Get over it. Which amounted to this formula of shedding a few tears, praying a few desperate prayers, then "medicating" with busyness or entertainment. This is how I lived - for years. In fear of the consequences of my emotions. It shows if you look over my journals the past few years. You don't have to look far. Two years is encompassed on about twenty pages.

It shouldn't surprise me that I was told I'm too emotional. When I did have an emotional outburst it was an eruption because I'd spent so much energy trying to contain it all. Those outbursts were quickly deemed inappropriate and quelled back into submission. Now my emotions are beginning to thaw -- slowly, unlike the tornadoes I've previously experienced. I'm afraid it's going to be the global-warming of my life that will change climates, erode boundaries and leave me permanently altered. I'm terrified, and I don't know how to prepare for it. I'm giving myself permission to feel, but it quickly gets out of my control. I fight, and sometimes lose against the temptation to revert back to my state of non-feeling.

"If we lose our ability to feel physical pain, we'd be in a very, very bad way. Pain is an important part of surviving and thriving in this world. It's from God. Emotions are the same way. They aren't untrustworthy products of the fall anymore than any other part of our bodies. They are gifts, guard rails, barometers, etc., that help us survive and thrive in a world that is both full of wonderful things and many terrors too... I love Jeremiah, Elijah, Nehemiah and maybe especially Habakkuk for how they feel so much, so honestly and how God doesn't go do the "churchy" thing of telling them what not to feel, but meets them each, in different ways."
I wish I had a link or even a full name for this quote but it's by someone who goes by DanaKX - she commented on this post by Elizabeth Esther. 

I know this is true. I need to remember it. I have a friend who is a microbiologist in the leprosy (Hansen's disease) field. Through her I know well the effects of nerve damage on a body. Yet, I have a hard time relating this truth to my emotions. It seems indulgent and self-centered to care for your emotions in the same way you would a physical wound. But I know that if I don't deal with these things now it will stunt my growth from here forward. Without healing, I will stay in this endless cycle of emotional dysfunction that will effect every relationship. And that is not what I want. I want to thrive in every area and one day be able to minister from this place. The desire to honor God with my life has not gone away.

In order to heal I must acknowledge that there is pain. It's taking me a while but I'm finally learning to do that. I'm trying not to look so much like a deer in the headlights when someone asks me, "What's wrong?" But that question induces momentary panic. I feel like I've been caught someplace I shouldn't be - my countenance does not speak of victory in Christ Jesus. I have yet to be able to produce anything other than an awkward, evasive response that leaves the inquirer more unsatisfied than before. But even that is progress for me - I'm no longer denying, lying, and covering with a smile.

So here's to recovery through uncovering. He's always been faithful to me.

Hide and Seek Him

If you grew up in a two parent home you are likely familiar with the following scenario: A child is wailing loudly in protest to whichever parent happens to be administering discipline.

"I want my daaaaaaddyyyyyyyy!"

You would often find me so, curled into the back of my closet, sitting on piles of stuffed animals and discarded prom dresses. I would cry for whichever parent had not crossed me - hoping they would hear from the living room on the other side of the wall.

Then there was a day that I opened my mouth to cry for my mother or father and found that I could not call for either. I knew that neither would offer the comfort I sought. My tears became suddenly silent and I whispered,

 "I want my Jesus." 

I sought comfort from the only constant in my life. I didn't need to make a sound in order to be heard.

Today I can recapture my tiny closet sanctuary with perfect clarity. The pattern of my best Sunday dresses, walling me in, are burned into memory. The uneven plaster carelessly applied to walls never meant to be examined so closely. And the words, written in green crayon, "I want my Jesus."

That closet became my refuge. It was there my heart broke for the first time over friendships broken and lost. In that place I felt fully the first effects of loneliness and rejection. Pressed against three walls, I cried, confident each tear was captured by a Savior who loves me. I never cried for anyone else after that first prayer was whispered. My soul found its' resting place.

The place I used to hide taught me to hide myself in Him.

I have been hiding ever since. Not in a closet. These days my soul finds more refuge in the open air, admiring the handiwork of my Heavenly Father. I have sought Him from dried-up drainage canals, and in pine-carpeted woods, in clearings of wildflower fields, graveyards, and winding country roads.

I'm tempted to wrap this up with a nice little bow. I could do a concordance search on the word "hide" and find the deeper meaning, paired with a few quotes from the Psalms to solidify my position. But that wouldn't be real.  The fact is that right now my soul is seeking sanctuary again. I wish so much to return to my closet. I have very little that is familiar to me right now. I am vulnerable. I am broken. I am being humbled. And all I know to do is cry, "I want my Jesus."

Snapshots

Why is it that when someone takes an unannounced blog hiatus, they feel the need to provide excuses or somehow explain the absence? It's an unspoken pressure - and I know I'm not the only blogger who feels it.

So yes, I took an unannounced hiatus. All I know to tell you is that my inspiration fled for a time. But it has returned. My hands are itching to write once again. I can feel the fountain of words bubbling beneath the surface, and I am relieved.

But until the time that those words find their way these digital pages I thought I might share a few pictures with you - my blog followers - of what I've been up to for the last two months. You can actually see where my renewed inspiration comes from.

Jordan and I visited Houston with some dear friends of ours. We took a day trip to Austin, TX where the photo below was taken in this great crafty antique shop on Congress. Austin is a great city!

Me, Jordan {sister}, and Arielle

We had some grand adventures and tried new things (as always) like Coconut water that we got from a Malaysian Restaurant! Jaclyn (our friend in Houston) knows all these great places for great food! We wandered around Chinatown seeing odd sites and avoiding Durian Fruit every time we turned around. Jaclyn and her husband Orlando are as fabulous as my big sisters. And if you know me, you know my big sisters are pretty spectacular.

Jordan, Me, Jaclyn and Arielle

If you have been on Pinterest for any length of time it's likely that you seen this idea to give 60 memories for a fathers 60th birthday. This was inspiration defined! Our beloved Poppie turned 60 years old at the end of October and we managed to gather notes and letters from friends old and new, co-workers, church members, neighbors, and family.

Jordan stamped all 60 envelopes

I was absolutely overwhelmed to see the ways my father has effected so many lives. I plan on publishing what I wrote to him here on the blog sometime soon. This project produced many tears and much laughter, and our Poppie was so very blessed by it.

Tears as they were read aloud.

At the beginning of November Jordan and I decided to take a spontaneous trip back up The Natchez Trace where these adventures happened. This time were were going camping and hiking!

Me at the Parkway Entrance 

We had a great time hiking all 13 miles of trails in Tishomingo State Park. Even though most of the leaves had fallen, it was still beautiful!

Our shadows on Swinging Bridge over Bear Creek

We did a lot of smiling

We also listened to this song a lot on this trip. I love this group. You can download it for free here.

And finally, over this past Thanksgiving weekend, I turned 23.  I had an amazing time with my family and got some great gifts (Thank you Jordan for Bonhoeffer on Radio Theatre). As an excuse to get out of the house Jordan and I took my niece, Leah, and got manicures (in pale neutral shades).

Of course we did. 

I've got to tell you guys that my niece is one of the most amazing teenagers I've ever met. It shouldn't surprise me, because she has some great parents. I enjoyed every moment with her, as you can see from the pictures below.

A very happy birthday indeed

We got our "no evils" a little out of order

And y'all. This chick is gor-ge-ous. If my future children are even half as beautiful as my nieces, this family is going to have to take stock in the weapons industry.

Photo from my shoot with her this weekend.

I can't tell you the last time I've enjoyed my family so much. And still am. We made some lovely memories.

So the loveliness continues. I love the holidays. I love cuddling under a blanket (new new fluffy, fleecy one!) with some tea to watch old Christmas movies. I'm looking forward to an entire month of these kind of indulgences. It's the simple things...

milktea with honey #favorite

Beauty from Ashes

When I decided to publish my glass heart story I thought it would be easy because I am so far removed from the events that inspired it. And I've told it to countless young women in ministry situations. But the truth is that I hesitated this time. Because while this story illustrates one of the most awe-inspiring works God has done in me to date, it is still deeply personal.

The Glass Heart parallels the story of my first broken heart. I gave my heart away to the first frog that crossed my path. Gratefully, I didn't have to kiss him to find out that he would never be the prince of my dreams. I walked away from that experience broken and fearful. It took me quite a while to trust the Lord with my heart, and even longer to trust any person.

Even once I learned to trust Him again, I believed that I'd destroyed my innocence forever. I accepted that I would have to live with the scars on my heart - for which I was ultimately responsible. I wasn't resentful about it. In my mind, I was damaged and there was nothing to be done. This was the consequence of my sin. I never expected to know innocence again. I'd made my bed and had to sleep in it.

All of that changed one morning in my high school chemistry class. Sunlight streamed in the window behind me, I sat down, and sighed. When I exhaled a lock of hair that was hanging in my face blew back into place. In that moment a childhood dream was fulfilled. As a little girl who adored "The Little Mermaid" I'd spent hours in front of the mirror attempting to imitate this sigh-hairflip-combo that was Ariel's trademark. I never got it right and resigned myself to never being a princess as a result. I'd completely forgotten about it until my hair serendipitously floated out of my eyes that morning. My excitement was unconstrained! Because that moment represented so much more. My childhood innocence was returned to me, symbolized by that "dream come true". A little wind whispered a truth that echoes in my soul, "The author of all true fairy-tales is writing yours... It can happen."


Let me speak for a moment to the girl, the woman, or even the man who has been broken. Your body, heart, and mind has been shattered. You may believe that you are beyond redemption. You may have resigned yourself to never being whole again. You think you are unworthy of healing and may even think it unnecessary. After all, you've adapted. Learned to live with the scars. But I am here to tell you that Jesus Christ is capable of restoring all things.

I know personally that nothing is so big or small that He cannot heal. I thought my broken heart was such a small matter that He couldn't bother with it. But now I know that if He cares to restore something as "small" as my innocence, He can restore anything. He can heal and bring full restoration, no matter what you think you've ruined. There is no detail He does not care intimately about.

His patience is never ending. He does not force Himself on us. The Lord never pushed me to give him my heart. He waited until I'd surrendered every piece to Him, holding nothing back, before He began His restoring work. Before He can begin healing you must trust Him with every part. His hand transforms. My life - my heart - is tangible evidence of His faithfulness. He has made beauty from the ashes.

A few years ago I purchased a glass heart pendant (pictured above) as a tangible reminder of the redemption of God in my life. It's one of my favorite pieces of jewelry, and I get compliments each time I wear it. I usually accept them with thanks, touch it, and remember how I have been made whole. I can never forget.

Have you ever been broken? Has He made you whole? Tell me your story. 

The Glass Heart

This is the first of several personal stories that I'll be posting during the next few weeks. They are stories of Gods redemption in my life and I finally feel free to share them. A few of you may be familiar with this one of my Glass heart. I first shared it at a purity banquet several years ago.


Once upon a time, not so long ago, a man loved a little girl. He watched over her as she grew and knew every freckle and curl. He was her Guardian, her hero and His presence was enchanting. There were many nights she spent curled up next to Him, learning His stories so well she could repeat them backwards.

It was on such an evening that the man presented a gift to the little girl who was now becoming a young lady. In wonder, she lifted an exquisite, hand-crafted glass heart out of the box. She marveled at its beauty and promised to treasure it close. Several times her Guardian offered to keep it safe for her, but she always laughed Him off, wanting the world to see the beauty in the heart He'd created.

As she grew older, the time spent with her Guardian grew sparse. There were occasional evenings she spent with Him and in those moments He would plead with her to let Him guard the heart, warning of its fragility. But she only held it tighter, dismayed that He would try to take something so precious to her.

It wasn't long until there was some distance between herself and her Guardian. Before she knew what was happening she was swept off her feet by a handsome young man. She was delighted by his exclamations of  her beauty. The young lady was convinced that when she showed him her beautiful glass heart he would admire its value. So, she gave it to him in hope of showing him how much she'd grown to love him. She trusted him to protect it for her.

The handsome young man accepted this gift with all the awe the young lady could've imagined. Dreams of forever began to fill her head. They were happy. For a while. Then, he got a little careless and the glass heart was chipped and cracked, but not ruined. The young man persuaded her that he would be more careful, and though she was disappointed, she let him keep it. But weeks passed and the cracks in the heart grew larger instead of being repaired.

The young lady eventually saw that her handsome young man had no intention of caring for her heart. She made a decision and determined not to be persuaded out of it - she was going to get her heart back and leave. So, she timidly approached the young man who had the delicate heart carelessly shoved into his pocket.
"I want my heart back." She said, while holding out her hand
He tossed it into her palm saying, "Take it. I have no use for this. What did you expect?"
Without responding the young lady closed her hands around the heart, turned and ran - until she could run no longer. She found a hiding place, fell to her knees and wept. Her palms opened to reveal bloody shards piercing them. In her haste to get away the glass heart was shattered in so many pieces. Only the skillful hand of the man who crafted it could make sense of the mess.

After her tears were spent she got up and began the journey back to the home of her Guardian. Her enchantment with the handsome young man had led her far from home. The last thing she wanted to do was show her Guardian the heart, broken as it was. She remembered all of his cautious words and could picture the disappointment in His eyes. On her way back she tried many things to put the heart back together. And some things would work. For a while. And then the heart would break all over again. Still she continued on.

Just when she got to the door of her Guardians home she panicked and concealed the pieces of her heart in her satchel, deciding not to reveal its brokenness. He opened the door and embraced her warmly. The young lady sobbed and muttered apologies for not coming sooner. She was taken in, cleaned up, and given her old room back.

For many days she rested, wondering what to do about the broken heart. The young lady and her Guardian went on daily walks where they talked about all manner of things, but He never asked about it. She knew He was waiting for her to explain. Many weeks went by, becoming months. Months that she couldn't bring herself to show Him the pieces of the once beautiful glass heart.

One evening they sat together watching the sunset in content silence. She sighed and leaned against Him, soaking up the last bit of the suns warmth. As the last rays disappeared on the horizon He leaned down and said close to her ear, "Beloved, it's time." Her heart accelerated and she nodded up at Him, knowing exactly what He meant. The young lady led the way to her room. There she opened a small chest that held the pieces of her heart and slowly laid each one on the desk like a scattered puzzle. They were there a long time while she cried and told Him the story of her broken heart. He looked at her with compassion then collected each piece, wrapping it in a handkerchief and without a word, slipped out the door. She slept peacefully that night, relieved she no longer had to protect the secret of her heart.

The heart was not mentioned and the young lady knew without asking that He would take care of it. Months passed, during which she spent time learning from her Guardian and talking with Him. She grew nourished and healthy. There were occasions when she wondered what became of the broken pieces but she never asked.

The young lady was studying one day when her Guardian came and pulled her aside. With a radiant grin on His face He brought a box from behind His back and held it out to her. She stared, open-mouthed. Slowly she reached into the box and pulled out a glass heart. Not just any glass heart. Her glass heart. It looked identical to the original, only without a chip, crack, or flaw.

As silent, joyful tears slid down her cheeks the young lady knelt before this man and held the heart out to Him saying, "This heart can only ever belong to one person. Its maker. You alone are worthy of its treasure. I love you Jesus."

The End is yet to come...


I told the back-story of this allegory after initially publishing this. You can read it here. 

The Summer Chronicles

I was recently recounting to a sweet new friend that almost every summer for the past 8 years has marked a move of God in my life. There is always a turning point. Without fail, it's a time of maturing for me. It's interesting how that parallels with creation. Plants come to full maturity each summer before dropping their fruit and leaves in autumn. In the same way, I've come to be expectant of fruit in the summer seasons. Bringing forth fruit is not always the easiest process. Often there has been much painful pruning involved. But each time I find myself transformed - and I know it's worth it. I want to share some of the stories of Gods faithfulness through these seasons...

The summer of 2006 was the first after we transitioned into house churches. We were high on newly discovered relationship - with God and each other. Someone got wind of Andrew Strom's "Personal Revival" message and it spread among us. In our group of friends the wave of personal revival began with Jordan. She had a life-changing revelation of the holiness of God. It soon spread to Lauren - whose testimony is still posted to Andrew Strom's website. Finally, God got a hold of me. I was purged of everything I'd ever known about who God is and how to approach Him. He was no longer this puppy dog in the sky who catered to my every whim. I saw Him in the beauty of holiness and He became more real to me than He'd ever been before.

Sadly, at the end of that summer, one of our best friends walked out of our lives. We went from perpetual sleepovers and endless inside jokes, to nothing at all. In all the growing we did that summer, there was much pruning. Pruning that left scars, but there is fruit in us today as a result. We learned a big lesson in obedience through suffering during that season.

My first summer at a full time job was in 2007. I did data-entry and form corrections every day with headphones on, listening to every Leonard Ravenhill sermon available on the internet. The young girls in the bible study we taught grew tired of my quoting him constantly, I'm sure. God lit a "fire in my bones" that summer. Jordan, Lauren and I practically memorized "The Revival Hymn". One night, when we were supposed to go see a movie together, we got into the car, and started talking about it. Before I could even buckle my seat belt tears poured down my face and all I could hear in my mind was this;

"We haven't spent half an hour with Jesus, but we'll stay two stinking hours in a movie house! And Paul says that's what the world is to me; It's a system of corruption and rottenness and vileness. It's anti-Christ from the word go!... Is the world crucified to you tonight? Or does is fascinate you?"

When I voiced what was going through my mind, Jordan and Lauren looked at one another and immediately said, "Me too!!" That night became the first of many prayer meetings we had that summer. It was during one of those prayer meetings that God told me to take off my purity ring for good. But that's a story for another time.

In the 2008 the growing and maturing was a lot more practical and tangible. That summer Jordan and I ended up moving out of my parents house together. We lived with a gracious single woman in the church who opened her 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment to us for very low rent. This was a fresh start for us. It held a lot of new challenges that taught us to rely more heavily on the Lord for our needs. He proved Himself faithful, as always.

Relationships were the primary source of change for me in 2009. My relationship to my parents was in the process of being re-defined, despite living apart from them for a year. One of the most profound changes was that our best friend, Lauren, was imminently moving away to college. She was dating Blake. There was a whole new dynamic to our relationships. God dealt with me personally a lot that summer. He put to rest some things that'd haunted me too long.

Last summer followed a spring that we'd spent in intercessory prayer. Beginning in March we met every week to seek God and pray that He would move in our lives and mold us to be more like Him. We prayed fervently for friends who were faltering. We prayed for renewed fire in ourselves. And that summer, God answered. Friends transformed before our eyes. I really believe the Lord mercifully poured out His spirit on us. We sought to hear His voice, and He spoke - through us. None of us had operated in the gifts of the Spirit with any regularity for years. Last summer God taught us to use the gifts again, with words of wisdom, knowledge and prophecy. Church function as laid out in 1 Corinthians 14:22-26 was tangible in our meetings. Peoples hearts were laid bare, causing them to cry out to God. I learned to hear the voice of the Shepherd again, in a completely new way than I'd previously learned it. In years before He had to set my heart racing to get my attention. This time I learned to hear Him in the still, quiet voice, and to act - immediately - on what He was telling me to do or say. He always confirmed what He'd spoken every time I stepped out in faith. And my faith grew by leaps and bounds.

As I've been reflecting on past summers, I'm looking forward to this one. Already a month in, God is moving and shaking so much in me. I feel as though I've been having a crisis of faith - questioning things in myself that I've never questioned before. Why do I believe what I do? Where do my values come from? Are they based on the word of God? What are my convictions, apart from what I've always been associated with?

I admit, as far as my core values and convictions go, not a whole lot has changed. What has changed is that my weak knees are being strengthened. I'm becoming grounded where before I was easily thrown off balance by others opinions of me. I have no idea what the rest of this summer holds, but I know there is a reason I've being firmly planted on the rock of my salvation.