God's Not Late, We're Just Early

Whew! Now that I got that off my chest...
I want to start by admitting that this title is not original (at all), but I saw it somewhere and thought it was perfect for where I'm at right now. If I'm completely honest with you, although I have no idea who you are, I have been very frustrated with life. I have been frustrated with God. I have not been content in all things. I have, however, been unsatisfied. I have been ungrateful. I think it's okay to come before God honestly and let him know how we truly feel about certain things. In case you forgot, he already knows your heart, so be fake if you want. You're only fooling yourself.

When I was in high school, Adam and I would talk about our lives, maybe getting married one day, where we'd like to live, where we thought we might work, etc. I'll admit, we did not guard our hearts very well because we even talked about baby names. Well, I mostly talked about that, he listened.

I just want to say that I don't blog about things I haven't shared with him (I told you, my brain is scattered tonight). And what I'm about to share has nothing to do with our marriage, well not directly. Anyways, the other day I told him, "When I thought about us at 23/24 (I'm older. He got a cougar.) this is not what I had planned." Am I happy with him? Of course. With our circumstances? Not completely. Some may read this and think, "What is she complaining about? They live in a decent house. They both drive decent cars. They both have jobs. They live comfortably. She sounds very spoiled and ungrateful." First, I would say to those people, you are right. I already admitted I have been ungrateful and yes, bratty. Second, I would say, things are not always what they appear. Often times people who seem to have it all together are the ones who feel like things are falling apart around them. I'm not saying we are those people, but I'm not saying we aren't. Just because we go to church, believe in God, and follow Christ does not mean our lives are a cake walk. We still experience failures, disappointments, sadness, anger, and the list goes on... Okay, off of that soap box and back to the original point of this post.

If you know me, you know I'm a planner. Honestly, I'm only just now realizing that not everyone makes lists for everything, color codes things in their planners, or even has a planner for that matter. I know, I'm shocked everyone isn't like me. If you know me, you're not shocked that I just said that.

Needless to say, before Adam and I were married, I had a five year plan. You may laugh, but I'm serious. By 22, ________ would happen. By 23, we would _________. I want __________ to happen by 24. And by 25, we will be _________. Let's just say, as I approach 25, things have not gone according to my plan. I've thought, God, where are you? You're supposed to make these things happen. I'm tapping my watch, looking up, saying, "You're late!" Don't you know __________ was supposed to happen by __________??? We were supposed to be __________. What are you trying to do, mess up my plan? Some of you may be thinking, "Oh she's talking about ______." No, I'm really not. I am talking about many different things that just have not gone like I wanted them to. Life is messy and complicated and I'm so thankful for my God that guides me through it and my husband who supports and encourages me in every step of our journey. 

Lately, I have been so caught up in my circumstances and the fact that things aren't going according to plan. For a planner, this is aggravating. For all you go with the flow people, I don't see how you do it. So, yes, I have been aggravated and I may go so far as to say angry with God. It doesn't matter about what- things that I have no control over-things that I can't change.

Have you ever sat through a church service and felt like everyone else could leave because you were sure the message was just for you? Well, I'm sure others needed it too, but this morning was one of those mornings for me. I love Pastor Jeff. He's a simple kind of guy. He usually has one main point in his sermons. Sometimes he gets a little crazy and gives two. I mean, really, if we actually took the (one) point made in a sermon, we could probably spend a while trying to live it out in our lives. So, I'm thankful he doesn't give me too much to chew on during the week! This morning, he reminded me us: Faith says: I'm more confident in God than my circumstances. He could've just stopped there and I could've started praying and been there for.a.while. I have not been very confident in God lately. In fact, in my prayers, I have asked God what he is doing. Why am I here (not literally)? What is the point of this? Why haven't things gone my way? How did we get to this season in life?

Jeff gently reminded me through my storm, which may seem trivial to most, God is teaching me to have full confidence in Him. Sometimes life and this Christian walk isn't fair. Oh em gee. Was he a fly on the wall in my house the other day? Because I just said, through tears, to Adam: "It's not fair that ____________________."

"What if the work God is doing through the circumstances is to help build your faith so that you're totally confident in Him the next time a situation arises that requires your faith to be strong?" Hashtag, things that are hard to hear........... because then you are forced to reason with why things are/aren't happening your life. I know God is building my faith in Him through this season of life. I don't like to admit that, for whatever reason. Of course, I think my faith is strong, it doesn't need to grow any. When I'm honest, I know that's not true. It's like Jeff said, we all want this strong faith that can move mountains and not be shaken, but we don't want to go through and experience what it takes to grow into that kind of faith. This kind of faith "doesn't come from years of bible studies". Sometimes this kind of faith is a choice. Not just a one time choice, but a choice that has to be made weekly, daily, hourly, every moment we are breathing. We have to choose to believe God will take care of us. We have to choose to have faith that says, "When you give and even when you take away, my heart will choose to say, 'Blessed be Your name'. " We have to choose to trust that God knows what He's doing. We have to choose to follow Him and believe His word is real in our lives even when things aren't going our way.

By the end of the sermon, I was in tears, so overwhelmed. The last song we sang couldn't have been more perfect. I prefer Matt Maher's version and I've had it on my iPod for a while now. It has been one of the many songs I meditate on and keep in my head. "Without you I fall apart.[..] Lord, I need you. [..] Every hour I need you."

To wrap up all this babbling, as much as I don't want to make sense of any of my "mess", I know that God is growing my faith through this time. Yes, there will be and have been days where I don't think I can keep patiently seeking God and waiting for Him to make sense of it all. There will be days when I feel emotionally drained and too overwhelmed with all that goes on in this crazy head to function. But, in those moments, I hear God say, "You don't have to carry all of this. You don't have to figure it all out. Just rest in me. Wait on me. Keep looking to me and I am going to take care of you because you are my daughter. You may not understand your circumstances, but I am working it all out, so just trust in Me to do what is best for you. I'm not missing anything. I'm not late. You're just early. You're not ready yet. It's not time. So just wait. When these things come together in life, it'll be right on time. You wait and see."

Until the time when those things make sense, I will continue to rest and put full confidence in Him...

Bearing Your Soul to Strangers

I was just writing/typing a blog post and then got to thinking... Monthly, sometimes weekly or evenly daily, I write about things that are of value to me. I write about things that weigh heavily on me. I write about things that I feel other people may enjoy reading or be encouraged by. The strange thing is I have no clue who is out there reading all of this stuff! It's like I'm bearing my soul to a bunch of strangers. I am being transparent with people, some of which might not even speak to me if they saw me in public. That is weird! Maybe the only people who read my posts are close friends and family. Maybe only "church people" read my posts. Maybe I have a stalker who clicks on my blog multiple times a day to see if I've posted anything new. I mean I have page views from Russia and Germany. Talk about freaky. The point is, I literally do not know who reads the stuff I put out there. And most of my posts are very personal. I don't feel they are inappropriate or too vulnerable, but I write about some very personal things- like I said, things that are important to me.

I don't know who you are, but I do know people out there are reading my posts. I can see how many page views my blog gets, how many times a certain post is read, etc. But all of the stats are anonymous. I don't see names I only see numbers. This is not to discourage you from reading. I promise, there is no way for me to figure out who you are. It actually makes me feel good that people are at least clicking on the link to my blog when I share a post! Whether or not they read the whole thing, again, there's no way for me to know. Don't get me wrong, I would definitely still [write] even if I had 0 page views. I find it to be very restorative (it's a real word, look it up). For someone who isn't good using words verbally, I love to write. Most times I feel like the words make sense :)

My brain is very scattered right now, so I don't think I could've finished my original post before I got all of that out. Anyways, thank you to the people who take time to read what I take time to write. I hope, somehow, these posts can an encouragement to you.

Now, back to my original post...

Resting in the Rain Specks

Lately, there has been a lot on my mind. The wheels have been turning constantly.
I noticed the sunset on our drive home. Brillant colors filled the sky. Once we got home, I decided to sit on our back porch and take it all in. The stillness and peace that comes from reflecting on God's creation; my mind could sure use it.

As I watch the last colors of the sunset fade from the sky, I notice the smallest, lightest rain specks (not heavy enough to be drops) falling down. You can't hear them or see them and you can barely feel them. If I hadn't sat still, I wouldn't have even known they were there.

My sweet Father reminds me to not get so busy with life. Don't worry so much. Don't plan so much. Don't overthink things. Don't be so consumed with other things that you forget Me. If you do, you may miss out on the tiny rain specks of life.

Just as soon as the rain specks started, they seemed to stop; as if it were only something He and I knew about. I don't know if they were or not, but I have been reminded to slow down and take time to be still before Him; clear my mind and cast all of my cares upon Him. My God is a good God and I'm so thankful that he cares about me, personally. He formed me and created me and He knows the number of my days. It feels good to slow down and rest in Him.

You Don't Have to be Fake

I'm not good at being fake. I never have been. Whatever the emotion: stressed, aggravated, sad, mad, you can see it on my face. It's not that I don't try to seem okay. I'm just not good at pretending. The harder I try, the more exhausted I get. You never have to guess what I'm thinking or what's going on in my mind. You can read me like a book and I see it as a flaw. This is not an excuse to be rude, but rather, a way of showing that I'm real. After all, "christians" are normal people.

If I can't fool those around me, why do I think I can fool the One who created me? Sometimes I pretend to be okay before Him, like I'll follow faithfully no matter what. While this is partly true, I'm not always okay with what's going on in my life. Sometimes I get aggravated and annoyed with God. I get frustrated when things don't go the way I think they should. I get aggravated when things don't happen at the times I think they should. I think in my mind, sometimes not daring to ask aloud, "God what are you doing? What is happening in my life? This is not how I planned it."

As much as I want to be sometimes, I dont have to be fake with God. Even if I try, he sees through it. When I'm frustrated, I tell him. When I'm sad, I tell him. When I'm anxious, I tell him. No matter what it is, I tell him. While I think it is okay to express my frustrations and anxieties to Him (after all, He already knows my heart), sometimes I just need a little perspective and all of a sudden, my thought process changes. Rather than dwelling on cirumstances I can't change, I choose to believe that God is on my side and he has my best in mind. He reminds me that his best for me is not always what I think is best for me. Other times, it may be. I sometimes pray with words that I don't truly mean, but as I talk to him, I beg him to help me pray them sincerely.

I realize I fight a tough battle here on earth. There are people and circumstances that challenge my faith and make life difficult at times. These seasons in life cause me to yearn for the day when he returns or calls me home and all the cares and anxieties of this world will pass away. No more tears, no more sorrows; only praising him forever.

Until that time, I continue to fight as hard as I can. I refocus my perspective and regain my determination. I evaluate the important things in life and remember all my blessings. I lace up my shoes and start to jog again. Before I know it, I'm back running as fast as I can, so that I may finish well.

God reminds me that if anyone can read me like a book, it's him. After all, he's writing the words on each and every page. And as I trust him to write my story, he reminds me that he is working all things together for my good. He has a purpose and a plan; a story just for me that goes exceedingly beyond anything I can ask or imagine. The circumstances I was upset about before all of sudden hold no weight. They pale in comparison to knowing him. He reminds me, once again, that he is all I need. He is more than enough and, once again, I choose to be satisfied in him.

A Simple Smile

You're surrounded by sounds of dishes clanking, water pouring, forks and spoons dinging, and unrecognizable chatter. People are everywhere, only two that you know. The challenge is not having someone to talk to, but rather, choosing who you will talk to and how to invite yourself to their table. For someone who does not do well with conversations (especially with strangers), this is a difficult task. Completely out of your comfort zone.

One lady tells you of how she is ready for her kids to go back to school. Another says nothing. She stares as you make conversation with her father. Yet, another lady sings sweet lyrics to you from her favorite childhood song.

For a moment, you step away from the chaos and take a couple deep breaths. Remember why you're here; not for yourself. Looking for your next opportunity, you struggle with who to talk to and what you should say. For reasons of fear or wanting to avoid awkwardness, you decide to just walk around and ask everyone how they're doing and if they enjoyed their meal. You accompany these simple questions with a genuine smile. And then, you realize you don't always have to use words to show you care. You don't always have to have deep conversations and use big words. In fact, for some situations, no words are needed. At these times, all you have to do is offer a simple smile. Smiles are universal. They break racial and socioeconomical boundaries. Cliché? Yes. Truth? Yes.

After your small revelation and giving out a few more smiles, you muster up the courage to go talk to one more person before leaving. This lady is alone; surrounded by seven other little bodies, but none the less, alone. She is strong; she has no choice. Someone has to be for her little ones. She is patient and surprisingly calm. She talks as if she's been waiting for someone like you to show up. It doesn't matter if you're really listening, she's just glad to have your company. Once the conversation winds down, you tell her you aren't sure when you'll see her again. She asks about your church service and you give her the details. You give a goodbye with genuine hopes of seeing her soon and off you go, leaving her with a simple smile.

The Story of the Poptart

When preparing for our mission trip to Jamaica, I packed a good amount of snacks, knowing I probably wouldn't each much. Supper included things like chicken foot soup, stewed chicken, rice, etc. I don't even eat regular soup.... just to give you an idea of how picky I am. This is something I know about myself and I knew it would be one challenge I'd face throughout the week. However, I was willing to put myself through this small discomfort in order to go on the trip. Needless to say, I lived on granola bars, fruit snacks (chewies), and poptarts. There were times when I was so hungry, even these snacks did not fill me up. I knew the hunger pangs were temporary and I'd soon be back home with a house full of food, so I tried not to think about it too much.

As the week came to an end, I actually had a good bit of food left; some applesauce, a few packs of crackers, 4 packs of poptarts, and some fruit chews. Not wanting to pack it in my luggage, I decided to give away as much of it as I could and leave the rest at the house for the kids. So on our last morning, after packing, I decided to go see if the team wanted any of it before I took it to the kitchen to leave for the kids. The poptarts were the first to go. People would ask, "Are you sure you don't want them?" "Are you sure you don't want one?" I answered "no" and at the time, I honestly didn't want one. As I passed out the last one and walked back to my room, I thought, "Man, I should've kept one for myself... just in case.... I am kind of hungry." I walked back down to my room. I grabbed my bag, put my sheets in a pile, and grabbed my camera and ipod. As I finished packing things into my bookbag, I saw a shiny wrapper laying in the bottom of the front pocket. "Yes!" It was a poptart that I had packed to take out as a snack earlier in the week and had completely forgotten about. Although it was smushed and broken into about 30 pieces, it was the yummiest raspberry poptart I'd ever eaten.

God reminded me of two things:
One, that I am called to give and sacrifice in order to help others. This could be giving my money, time, energy, and or resources. I should give without expecting something in return. I should give without expecting recognition. I should give without expecting results.

Two, in the simplest way, God reminded me of how he provides for me. When I think I'm running out, he is there to fill me back up. When I can't understand, he brings clarity and peace. When I'm hungry, he feeds me. When I'm thirsty, he gives me something to drink.

He doesn't always promise us a poptart right when we think we need it, but he does promise to provide for us in every way, in his perfect time. He will meet all our needs. It may not be when or how we think he should provide for us, but his ways are higher than our ways, and we are to put our trust in him.

So, I leave you with these questions...to chew on:
(no pun intended...actually I did do that on purpose!)
-Do you know this God that I often write about, I mean really know him? If not, I challenge you to ask someone you feel comfortable with about this guy named Jesus. Find out for yourself if he is who he says he is and really did what he says he did.

-If you have a relationship with him, are you giving all your poptarts away? Are you giving them away without expecting recognition or results?

-Are you trusting that God will provide for all your needs and that he will take care of you in every way?

Hmmm... that's a lot to think on!
Until my next post.....

The Strange Transition

Emotional. One word that accurately describes arriving back in the states yesterday. We have spent the last week in Jamaica and got back home yesterday. After seeing all that we did this past week, it feels very odd to be surrounded by so much. I can't really explain the feeling. It is very odd. All week we had what we needed: food, shelter, a bed (bunk-bed style), showers (although cold), and electricity. Just the basics, but exactly what you need to live. No unnecessary "excess" stuff.

As I pull into my neighborhood, lined with two-story homes, each with at least one car filling the driveway, I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of emotion. As I walk inside our air conditioned house, set to a particular temperature, I place my belongings on our granite countertop and take it all in. Tears stream down my face. All of the decorations, electronics, furniture; little things that we take for granted. They seem to consume the inside of the house. I wash off in our shower, lined with tile, complete with double shower heads on either wall, and at the water temperature I desire. I'm overwhelmed with just how much we have. I'm overwhelmed by this life of luxuary we live. I don't feel sorry for those who I know are still in Jamaica, because most are content with what they have, but rather, I feel very blessed. You see most live without warm water, air conditioning, shoes and clothes that fit and match, and many other small things we take for granted in America, but they are happy with what they have. Cool showers are a way of life, some even wash in the river. They have clothes on their backs, though not expensive or designer name brands. Most live day to day, with just enough to survive. We aren't rich by any stretch, at least not by American standards. But, even the poorest of the poor here in our community have far more than most I met in Jamaica. It sounds cliché, but it's so true.

On the other hand, I'm sad to be back home, for things to return to normal. In a way, I feel that when my schedule returns to normal, somehow all I've experienced will slip away. I don't want the busy-ness of this American life to crowd out the simplicity and humility I've experienced. So, I'm holding on to all the memories as tight as I can. I don't want to ever forget the faces I saw in Jamaica. I don't want to forget any of the people I met there. I don't want to forget the poverty I saw. I don't want to forget the brokenness, but I also don't want to forget the joy. I don't want to forget the lack of innocence I saw in most of the children. I don't want to forget how starved they were for attention and love. I don't want to forget their excitement over small toys from the dollar store. I don't want to forget the hunger people have there for the Gospel and good news of Jesus. Most, just waiting and desperately seeking something to hold on to. I don't want to forget how content they were with what little they had. I don't want to forget Lisa, Stephanie, or Babs. I don't want to forget the little girl who begged and begged me for water. I don't want to forget the sweet, sweet children and people who live at the house where we stayed: Deanna, Samson, Joshua, Moses, Jadah, Sheena, Felix, Bryan, Jim and Penny. I don't want to forget their energy. I don't want to forget their boldness.

There are so many memories that I don't want to let slip away. I hope through journaling, pictures, and video, they will stay with me. This trip has been life changing. Words can't describe what we have experienced. I'm still trying to process it all. The people and places I saw will hopefully stay with me forever.