sleet.

I'm really confused by the sleet.  It bounces around, ricocheting off rooftops and roads and windshields, before finding its final resting spot with is predecessors in a puddle on the asphalt.

I can't tell where it comes from sometimes.  Sometimes it appears to be falling up, or being thrown sideways.  It's like having eyes on the inside of a popcorn bag; no rhyme or reason to the direction they explode and collide.

***

I admit it.  I don't know how else to write right now.   I'm constipated with words.  I've put off writing like a dam.  The source waters are backed up and up and up, and there's a raging flood being held back by this simple dam, constructed to keep the words at bay.  I don't know what trickle to let over first.  I'm afraid I'll compromise the integrity of the whole convention to just bleed the waters a bit; that the whole structure I've built up to house too many things in the first place.

Some call it denial, I call it a dam.

There is a man made lake-full of emotion and words and thoughts I want to get out, but I don't know where to start. And I know that once I do begin, there's no way to shut it off.

Recognizing the problem is the first step, right?

***

My heart is crying.  My tears would fall outwardly if I wasn't in public.  I drove home at first, knowing I needed to write in a place I felt comfortable enough to write, honestly.  I drove straight instead of turning on my road, opting for a place I wanted to be, giving The Well an edge up on priority.  I'm sitting on a bench covered in burlap, next to a cold, dreary windowscape, but it feels warm and inviting in spite of the icicles forming from the gutters and freezing rain collecting on the curbside.  Nightfall just turns down the contrast of the gray day as it fades to dusk.

I guess to begin, well.  I guess I'm sort of back in a lull.  It's a hard place to be, and its a hard place to realize you're at.  I had the flu this week, and that meant I spent 97% of my time alone, and in my house.  I've slept for days, but my body is still extremely fatigued.  Going up stairs, carrying my purse, simple things are difficult, and it makes me feel like a failure.

I know, I'm hard on myself.  This weather doesn't help either.  But, I see my incomplete laundry, and I see how I've failed.  I go upstairs to bed and remember my sheets are still in the wash, and again, I've failed on the only thing I set out to do.  I go to get in my car, and before my feet even touch the floor mats, I'm reminded of how I've failed to vacuum it, again.  That I've failed to carry in my mixer,  that the kinders' nametags are still wrapped in laminate and waiting to be cut out.  I can't find a thing in my purse,  there are things in my trunk I've intended on putting away when I got back from Christmas, my lesson plans for this week remain unfinished (and its already Monday evening).  Every time hives involuntarily take over my body, I feel like I've failed to find a solution to keep me healthy.  When my kiddos disregard my eleventy-billionth request to keep it at a level 1 whisper.  When i look at my bank account and have to worry about the two weeks before I get my monthly paycheck; or see the balance of my student loans; or how much money I still have left until my credit card is paid off (even after paying $700 this month, leaving me approximately $350 for food, gas, and  any other "luxuries" for the month); and I feel, again, like I've failed.   When I lay down at night and realize I've gone all day without taking to the Lord, I feel the weight of the forty-seven-thousand tally marks beneath the "failures" label.

i know my feelings do not dictate my identity.  where I see myself as a failure,  God sees a daughter.  where I see myself as a sum of all I lack, God sees every victory He has walked me in.  Where I see the failures of my past surmounting, God sees the promises of a hope and a future.  When I sulk in darkness, God illuminates with the Light of Christ.

to live a life recounting our brokenness alone, we rob ourselves of God's satisfaction in the work of the Cross.  When we carry our shame, we forget that God's promise of redemption and our creation in His image is the cloak of grace we ought to wear in the winter storms.  He is not grieved by the vastness of our depravity.  He has already overcome that on Calvary.

elipses

on a day that evokes reflection from even the hardest of hearts and stubbornest personalities, my mind has been plagued with thoughts of the past year.  how to categorize them, how to process some of them even.  in light of others joys and sorrows, i feel like they are trivial.  but that, that is just the nature of comparison.

so how then to evaluate?  juxtapose them to the Christ.  every joy, an illustration of His provision; every trial, an opportunity for the same.

i've been faithful.  i've trusted Him blindly.  i relied solely on the promises He whispered to me, the hopes that He spoke to my heart.  i walked in obedience without even asking to see where i was going. i have jumped, literally, jumped up and down with the joy He had placed in my heart while worshiping so much that I had to take off jewelry to be less of a distraction.  i've seen breakthrough in areas of anxiety that i never thought would cease.  i've received divine revelations, casting the Creator's mark on my dreams, and been given boldness and courage to stare the big, scary monsters in the face, and say move.

and, i've been faithless.  more often than not.  i've chosen to fulfill flesh rather than faith.  i've doubted, so many times have i doubted.  i've wondered if it's too good to be true.  i've given up hope.  i've ignored Him.  i've silenced Him.  i've all but abandoned Him, and then, i ran from Him anyways.  i've chosen noise over praise.  i've gone mute just because it can be easier than just trying.  i've questioned Him, and blamed Him, and yelled at Him.  i've fallen short, so short.  and i've disappointed myself.

but, I believe, He is anything but disappointed by me.

i weep; big, ugly, tears drench my face and snot pours from my noise like a faucet.  because, even in my shortcomings, He pursues.  He loves.  He forgives.  He forgets.

He has the ability to wipe our slate clean and to truly not see our lives the way in which we see them, as a list of demerits and brownie points.  systems of comparison created to justify a sense that we've earned our right to something, or another has racked up too many negatives to ever be trusted again.  when He said, it is finished, He meant it.

and the weep turns into a sob, as His words soothe my hypocrite heart that still doubts even behind the facade of these words.  He hears us.  and, He doesn't just hear us, He responds.

****

2012, if I were to evaluate the ups-verses-downs, would probably show a net-gain.  it doesn't feel like it tonight; but i'm thankful faith is not reliant on feelings.

j:  i rang in the new year at a fancy party.  new dress, tall shoes, champagne toast, and dancing til 2 a.m.  i spent 4 hours on a couch with new friends hearing and sharing testimony, praying over the year.  i learned self-control and discipline and did the Daniel Fast.  i said goodbye to a friendship for a good while, knowing it had to be done.

f:  i found out my summer intentions were not approved.  so i laid them down at His feet in surrender, and never turned back.  i truly, for the first time, walked in faith and blind trust that He had this.  i received flowers for Valentines from a Godly man that has never ceased to encourage me and build me up in Him.  and i may have jumped up and down outside at midnight in my rainboots.

m:  i went through DMS 2, learning more about leadership and relationship, while cultivating closer ones.  i visited Lancaster and got to spend some time away from the hustle and bustle.  our fellowship became a church. God told me not to choose, i tried anyways.  i had anxiety, and decided not to make a choice yet. hmm, funny that it always goes full circle.

a:  i sat on my hands instead of fixing things.  when He said, this, i pursued it.  and waited.  i learned to wait a lot in April.

m:  i saw His hand move in ways only He can.  i saw Him piece together my summer plans in just weeks.  from subleasers, to internships, to flights, to vacation with my dad, and the timing of everything.  i was amazed at all He did.  and i preached my first sermon.  and i'm still amazed that He gave me courage to do that.

j & j:  i left nashville for two months.  i went to costa rica.  then spent a month loving on the sweetest orphans in Cap-Haitien.  i lived with two of the most incredible women i know.  i learned to rely on my strength from Him, and not just to draw it from my community. and i prayed, a ton, for clarity.  i fell in love with two little girls that broke my heart to leave.  i prayed over them and sobbed at their bedside.  i was given vision in Milot, and divine appointment at the PaP domestic airport.  i returned to st. marc.  i had a crepe sale.  i had a first date.  i had hard conversations.  i spoke truth unabashedly.  i walked through awkward situations instead of running from them.  and i learned gentleness and honesty even without having clarity.  i saw a culture of prayer be ushered in.  i found beauty in Jacmel.  i watched others fall in love with haiti for the first time.  i taught precious ones about jesus and the fruits of the spirit.  i learned creole well enough to teach in it.  i was one of the last teams to see precious Junette.  i saw the Lord fulfill a list of secret desires from my heart I had written a year prior.

a:  and then, i came back to nashville.  and something had changed.  it wasn't the same.  i wasn't the same. i found myself facing anxiety and depression.  i was overwhelmed with decisions between one Godly thing and the next.  i became obsessed with not making the wrong choice.  i began to learn it would be a season of laying down things, good things, God things even.  i began by laying down the pursuit of a relationship i had anticipated with a different ending.  and the thread began to fray.  i chose Nashville Life over TVC.  i had anxiety everytime i walked into the building.  i cried and prayed and fought through it everytime.  others warred over it with me.

s:  i didn't unpack for 6 weeks.  i had a garage sale the next day.  i bought a car.  i freaked out.  i cut my hair.  i was asked to lead missions for Nashville Life.  i went straight to the Gospels.

o: i finally found myself at fall break. and i could not be more thrilled, relieved. i visited leah in nola.  we talked for hours, and i poured my heart of discontent onto her living room floor.  the stirring began.  it began to rise.  something was burning, was building.  we talked to no less than 4 friends from haiti.  someone from years ago was praying for me, because God had put me on her heart about a mission she was doing this coming spring.  i knew it wasn't what God had for me, but it showed me He was active, even though I didn't see it.  i felt alive again.  i felt myself again.  i felt like i could breathe.  God spoke to me in a coffee shop with a picture of New Orleans.  i cried in public.  this was becoming a trend.  and it was just the first week of october.

o.2:  i went to a cultural fest. i felt at home.  i cried there too.  i picked up PC info, non-chalantly.  i found The Well.  i all but moved into The Well.  I read through Matthew.  almost.  the stirring kept ... stirring.  i stopped being busy.  i started allowing myself to dream.  i skipped church and wound up at church, at the Well.  i stopped reading, and started writing.  i found myself scared: not of doing something, but of what life looked like if i didn't.  i started filling out my PC app.  i told christina. and lauren. then shelley.  then jacq.  not one person was surprised.  God continued to speak.  anxiety continued to rise.  i was to lay down church.  to agonizing to even rehash right now, but i walked in boldness and courage that He supplied.  and i walked out in peace and joy and freedom, for the first time in MONTHS.  i worshiped freely, openly.  i walked in the center of His will.  He showed me that the good things in my life, the God things, the thought of that relationship, the church, my career; all these things, i had to surrender.  they were good things, great things, even God things.  But they didn't fit.  and they didn't fit, because they weren't created to.  they are good things, but He has better things.  and in one fell swoop, my fall had been redeemed.  i had been blaming myself that they did not fit.  but they weren't meant to, and it was okay!  hallelujah!  oh thank you Jesus!  i started a bible study with girls from my church/neighborhood.

n: i told my principal of the PC plans.  i had his blessing.  i told my family.  it was mixed reviews.  i finally finished my PC app.  i began working with The Bridge ministry.  i submitted my medical history, and all my references returned their work.  i met up with Anna.  and with Tabitha.  and my heart was so, so beyond blessed by that.  i said goodbye to a brother that headed to Kuwait.  i moved into my attic.  i gained a roommate.

d: i can hardly remember the first two weeks.  i had strep.  i've been sick.  i've had severe hives, worse than they've been since 6 years ago when they started.  i've had a hard time at school.  i had the Lord show me His vision for the present+future with a better story.  i was blown away by how He breathed it into existence, and then somehow sees me responsible or worthy enough to steward the idea.  i spent much time with my family over christmas.  i flew my mom up to surprise her dad for his 79th birthday. i visited with my grandparents in atlanta, and had the pleasure of seeing my granddaddy light up over Les Mis and being thanked in public for his service in the marines.  i know that realistically, especially with me not being here for 2+ years, theres a big chance i won't have many more moments to savor with him.  so i'm choosing to remember the sweet, little things.  i hugged my niece like crazy.  i said 'i love you' a few more times to my kiddos at school and my family at home than i usually do.  i had my PC interview.  i was officially extended a nomination.  i decided to go corn-free, with the potential of ditching gluten, too.  i have embraced all-natural, herbal remedies.  i'm getting in touch with my hippie side, pre-PC, just in case.

and tonight, tonight i babysat.  then i came home in the rain, and amidst the popping of fireworks and the burn of my tears, i typed out this reflection.  it's lacking the poetic, but it's authentic.  it's where i'm at tonight.  a lot happened in 2012, pretty much everything unexpected.  so if you would've told me I would spend NYE in my attic after babysitting, i would've laughed.  but the tears were good, and the reflection, a reminder of His ever-intervening hand in my life.   more of that to come.

2013, i'm not there yet.  i'll deal with you in the morning.

intentional.

true story: blogger freaks me out.  it's sort of like time with Jesus: the longer i go without, the more scared i am of even opening that door, as the flood gates release all that has been waiting for my return.

it's always a good thing to return; just ask the prodigal son.  there's just that anxiety that wells up within, that would rather shy from the overwhelmingness than succumb to it.  so if i've gone a week without a blog post, i'll likely go three more, just for good measure.

but today, i was intentional.  i did a little preplanning at school for next week, and left with an abundance of time for what looks like to be the only free evening I will have until Christmas.  i had two intentions for tonight:  coffee shop and Jesus time, and writing at home.  i figured if i didn't put them in that order, I wouldn't actually do either of them.  (i actually have a third thing, organize my sewing corner in this mess of a studio room i now inhabit, but that's neither here nor there).

intentionality.

there's a lot in that word.  it represents our heart.  our purpose.  our pursuit.  our focus.  it shows our level of commitment, or maybe our lack of it.  i think it's also a humility check for our ability to coast-by, ever-so-effortlessly-- in which we realize most things don't come with ease, rather, only with well-intentioned pursuit.

i realized a few things today i must be intentional about.  writing is always one of them.  as much as i love to write, as much as words are the next best antidote to Jesus for a trying day, they don't pour out at will without me first popping the cork.

time with Jesus must also be intentional.  although its a rare day in which i don't encounter Jesus in unconventional ways, to really grow from those experiences, i must grant myself time to marinade and reflect.  give the opportunities of the day a chance to breed emotions, give those emotions an opportunity to find words to express them.  but if the words remain unspoken, unwritten, then their potential to change my heart remains unreached.

we must also be intentional to love and to seek out opportunities to love.  it's not always easy.  the flesh wants to respond in a way that seems natural: to discipline errors, to air our frustrations to those that we deem deserve to hear them.  whats hard is to take the offender by the hand, bite your tongue, and speak love, out of a place that doesn't seek to inflict the same pain your heart is feeling because of them.

patience must be intentioned.  no body becomes an accidentally patient person.  if so, please allow me to sit as one of their students, because i seriously suck in this department.  although i failed on many accounts to be patient through the course of today's trials, there were a few moments in which I said, "die" to flesh, and surrendered my "right" to be right.  more often than not, that wasn't the case.  the victory, albeit small, was still a victory for Christ.

the Word tells us that our flesh and the Spirit are set in opposition to one another.  The flesh sets its desires against the spirit, and the spirit sets its desires against the flesh; we can not do what we want because of this power struggle within.  because our flesh is set against the Spirit, to walk by the Spirit, we must be intentional about setting our choices, words, actions, responses, etc. against our natural instincts of the flesh.  over time, through learned behavior and habit, we can become more agreeable to the Spirit's desires, but I'm not certain that there will ever be a time in which we do it all the time, every time, without error without first choosing the Spirit over flesh.

living intentionally is the only way we can truly live a Spirit-filled life.  intentionally choose your words, your actions, your reactions to mimic that of Christ.  love others with intention, not out of the limited ability of your flesh, rather out of the unlimited fullness of grace and strength of the Lord.  we must pursue Him with intention, walk with intention, learn and grieve and humble ourselves with intention.  not that in our own intention we are ever capable of walking out perfection.  but without it, we will wander aimlessly.

beautiful.

there's a fleeting few moments between daylight and nightfall in which the horizon erupts in a rainbow variety of pinks and oranges and blues and yellows and purples and fiery reds.  just before dusk pulls its curtain down to meet with the tree line, the sunset speaks silent yet bold to the world around about its Creator.  in a moment, the very breath slips out from my lungs as a gasp; ignorant to the cold chill that typically penetrates my bones with a long-lasting bitterness. i breathe in deep and feel with all of my senses.  the Lord steals my breath away with silhouette of the bare trees of late fall, backlit by the marked beauty of the sunset hues.  in moments like this, you can't help but feel alive, and completely at ease with the way things are, if only for that moment.  and just as quickly and quietly as it came, the navies and indigos of nightfall settle in and begin to kiss the ground.  my heart has been wrecked, like a longing glance from a secret lover, causing my heart to melt and my knees to wobble.

and as the stars begin to make their crystal-like appearance as the heavens go black, the wooing of my soul begins again.  so is God's pursuit of our heart.  He is like a suitor, offering the most generous of gifts, romancing our distracted and wayward hearts back to our first love.  His gifts, however, are eternal, transformational.  they cause our senses to awaken, the stone abounding in our hearts to be chiseled.  and the beauty He sees emanate from the stroke of His hand in the Heavens and on the horizon are incomparable to the beauty He sees in the dirt and ash and crumbs of a heart surrendered to Him.

the wedding dress day.

like many posts, i will start this one by saying it *will* be short, because it is *late* and i need to be up *early*.

and like many posts, i likely will not stick to that.

but, God is doing a massive work in my life as of this week, and it is too exciting to at least not try to pen a bit about.

the gamut of emotion i have experienced in the past 24 hours in insane.  i can not tell you how much anxiety and un-rest i was feeling this morning.  it was heart wrenching beyond the point of tears.  it was an apparent move of the Lord to get me to surrender and walk in obedience, even when that obedience did not look like what i anticipated it to.

and as i walked with one foot in front of the other, hands trembling and stomach churning, His strength was perfected in my weakness.  in my humility, He was glorified.  and in one fell swoop, completely surrounded by His grace and love and mercy, His perfect peace not only covered me, but elevated me to an amount of joy, freedom, and excitement that I have not felt in years.  years!

i imagine that one day, i will try on a beautiful white gown, and i will feel such joy and excitement in knowing that this is it.  this is the one.  this fits exactly as if it were made for me. 

but today, in my single-dom, i feel an odd sense of peace in knowing that the way God is moving, the things He is stirring, the ways he is requiring me to walk in obedience and lay things down that looked like they fit, He is giving me such a joy and sense of excitement, knowing that this truly is it; this season fits exactly as if it were made for me.

because, it finally is. 

God's releasing me for great things this season.  I can't share about them here yet, but ask for your prayers as life is going to look a lot different in the months and years to come.

He has been renovating my heart in major ways in the past month, after spending the past three months being torture by anxiety and obsessing over "the 'right' will of God."  i feel as if i've been leading a double-life; not out of shadiness, or trying to hide anything.  but rather living 'stuck' in a life and the shell of a person that was no longer alive; verses the crying out of my heart to live how He has created me to be.

In the past month, since my revelatory visit to New Orleans (seriously, revelatory is putting it lightly.  God used that trip to practically wreck my life; and I'm thankful for it!), God has revealed to me the things that make me come to life.  and in seeing them, i've seen how dead i've become over the past few years.  sure, there have been pockets of amazing seasons, namely my times in Haiti being at the top of those lists, but overall, the person He has created my living soul to be has been stifled.  In seeing the parts come to life, I've realized how long those parts have been dormant, and I've realized the need to engage them for His kingdom, as well as to embrace my own created being and allow it to flourish.

God is finally granting me strength and vision and opportunity, and He is only beginning this process.  I feel like although I will be in the perpetual "what-the-H-am-i-supposed-to-be-doing-with-my-life?" question, that He's given me a lot of clarity on all of that in the past week, and I *almost* feel as if it's all beginning to make sense; that I won't be lost in this sea of wonder forever.

i am so, so, so grateful for His faithfulness.  For His peace like a river.  For his JOY!  Excitement!!!  The fact that I can literally stare at things in the face that have TERRIFIED ME to no end, and say "In Jesus name, you have no power/control/strength against me."  to walk out confrontation with humility and lowliness and risk disappointment, because i have been granted peace in knowing it is the right thing to do.

i am so, so excited for this season.  it's going to be a long one.  there's going to be a lot of newness.  and a lot of moments and opportunities to become overwhelmed and worried and anxious about days to come.  but that just means the Lord has even more of an opportunity to receive the glory as He enables me to walk with boldness, confidence, and a sound mind.

give it well.

It was late as I drove.  Even if it wasn't, I would've been just as exhausted, as life these days in adulthood has seemed awfully fatiguing, fighting for joy and worth (that's another post).

I've been day dreaming about my passions and this invisible life that my heart feels like it should be leading, a lot.  I've picked up peace corps literature, googled every NGO under the sun, and even started charting out a silent but huge dream on my heart.

I was thinking about my super-ecclectic group of extremely brilliant and talented friends.  Musicians, artists, designers.  I feel like everyone has a talent to offer.  Something that can sustain them financially,  allow them to pursue their work with passion, and afford them the opportunity to use their gift to give back.

My heart wrenched, if it can actually do such a thing. "I have nothing to give," I thought remorsefully.  I'm good at several things, but I don't really excel at ONE main thing.  I have no staple.  There's nothing I can be known for.

Immediately, the Holy Spirit refuted my statement if self-pity.  "Oh, yes you do, daughter.  You have the most important thing to give.  You have Love.  It's far more important you give that, give it well, and give it in My name."

I'm not claiming I'm good at it, that I excel at it, or that it even comes naturally.  But through Him, in Him, I can do all things as He is the one that allows me strength.

We all have something to give.  You were not designed to give the same, generic gift someone else has been designed to give.  You are unique, and intimately known by our Creator.  Use whatever gifts you possess to bring glory to His name; but do not neglect your capacity to give and show love.  It is the most important, unrefined treasure of your heart to be able to produce

"Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins." 1 Peter 4:8
"If I give away all I have, and I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing." 1 Corinthians 13:3

He hasn't focaccia.

I can hear them now, whispering.  Trying to pass the blame. Peter! You forgot the sourdough, again! What do you mean, there's no challah?!  Didn't anyone grab those seven baskets worth of focaccia back at the shore before we hopped in the boat? You know, Jeezy's not gunna be too pleasey with this one again.

"Watch and beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the Sadduces."

Umm. Earth to Jesus, come in Jesus. We brought NO BREAD.  Not sure you heard that.

"But Jesus, aware of this, said, "o you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread? Do you not yet perceive? Do you not remember the loaves for the five thousand, and how many baskets you gathered?  Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many baskets you gathered? How is it that you fail to understand that I did not speak of the bread?" 

We do it all the time.  Or, at least I do.  I petition Him with a silly request.  I don't have patience, or peace, or resources.  He responds with a metaphor, and I say, ummm, Jesus, did you just hear what I said?

Of course he did. He's God.  "But Jesus, aware of this..." the text says. Of course he is aware.

But how aware are we of the abundance He's provided in our lack before?  When He's overflowed baskets with bread when the multitudes had nothing to eat.  When he's taken the small amount we've had, and multiplied it for His glory and our benefit.

I'm reading story after story of Jesus' radical teaching and love, and although He lived it out right before the disciples, miracle after miracle, each one as astounding as the one before it, they were so quick to forget.

He had just probided bread for thousands. And yet, they still remind him they have no bread.

"Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or drink, nor about your body, what you will put on.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?" (MAtthew 6:25-26)

Whatever it is you're anxious about-- about not having enough, about not being enough, about not seeing your basic necessities or the resources to even conjur them up-- do not worry.  He knows your need before even you do.  He will meet it if you look to him instead of your worry.

As I left the coffeehouse when I wrote this out, I felt the Lord smile on me as he melted my heart.  I saw three sparrows in the parking lot.  Tearing a part a piece of toasted bread on the asphalt.  In the most unlikely of places, God provides just what we need.

Aren't we even more valuable than the sparrow of the field?