Waiting...

It's been over 10 years since God first laid a desire to serve in Africa on my heart; in that time, multiple mentors in my life have encouraged me to continue my education that I may be better equipped to serve.  As each chapter in my life closes, I start praying, asking God if this is the start of my opportunity to head overseas.  He's been gracious to me and allowed me to serve in Africa short-term, only growing my desire to be there longer.  I was sure that seminary would be my final step of preparation, but God had other plans, plans greater than I could never imagine.  And yet I felt discouraged, feeling like the waiting game would go on forever and I would never achieve my goal.

During a conversation  with my supervisor the other day, she encouraged me to continue to hope and trust in God's timing.  As I reflected on our conversation, I was reminded of how often God asked His people to wait: He asked Abraham and Sarah to wait for a son, the Israelites to wait to be released from slavery in Egypt, then wait to enter the Promised Land.  He asked His people in exile to wait for His Redeemer, and asks His people now to wait for Christ's return to fulfill His kingdom.  So while waiting can be difficult, I'm in good company and can rest assured of God's perfect plan. Praising God for His grace and patience with me and for His perfect plan for my life.

Blessed

It seems fairly obvious that I'm in a state of blessing right now.  In the past two months, God has given us a house beyond our dreams, allowed me to graduate with honors, let me marry the man who far exceeds my wildest dreams, provided us with our first dog, surrounded us with great and supportive friends and family, and given us endless opportunities for the future.  Life couldn't be better, right?

And yet I find myself anxious, find myself freaking out.  Why?  Because God's plans are not my plans.  Three years ago when I started seminary, I went in with the intent of studying counseling but not becoming an official counselor.  I planned to spend my last semester interning somewhere in Africa with the intentions to stay there indefinitely.  I had no plans for a husband or dog or to settle in West Michigan for a few more years. My plans didn't happen.  In the most beautiful way, God messed up my plans for something better: for His plans.

And though I'm blinded by His goodness and the perfection of Jehovah Jireh's plan, I worry.  I worry because I realize I'm not in control.  I'm not the one's calling the shots.  I can't say that I surrender my everything to God while also trying to be self-sufficient.  It simply doesn't work that way.  So I'm praying that God will soften my heart, that He will empower me to truly surrender my whole self to Him.  I pray that God will fill me with the perfect peace that comes from Him alone.  I praise Him for holding my past and my future and pray that He would continue to draw me closer to Him.  I praise Him for the plans that He has for me, praise Him for knowing me better than I know myself, praise Him for knowing my heart and exactly what I see.  I'm praying that He'd show me how to trade my worry for perfect peace in Him.  God alone is my strength and future.  In Him alone I place my trust.  To God be the glory now and forever!

Perfection

Awhile ago, one of my professors was teaching about Creation and the Garden of Eden.  In his lecture, he focused on a phrase that, while repeated over and over throughout Genesis 1, has often been misinterpreted in our modern context.

 "And God saw that it was good."

Good.  As we stretch our imaginations to envision what the Garden of Eden looked like, Creation unspoiled by sin and death and decay, often we envision a place of perfection.  A garden vibrant with trees in full bloom, the fragrance of flowers filling the air, animals living in complete peace, humanity at it's wisest and grandest; we envision a world in which all inhabitants thrive together rather than competitively stepping on one another to get ahead.  We envision perfection.

Yet God doesn't declare His creation as perfect.  He calls it good.  In fact, God commands humans and animals to multiply and fill the earth; He blesses Adam and Eve and says to them "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.  Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground." (Gen 1:28).  God creates, then invites His creation to join in fulfilling His plan; He invites us to take part in His glorious design.

As a recovering perfectionist, this is good news for me.  It removes the burden of perfectionism from my shoulders.  God did not create me in my fullest forms but invites me into His work, giving me space to grow and learn in Him.  He creates me in humble form that I may rely on Him always instead of pridefully puffing myself up through my own deeds and character.  Like a little child, God invites me to follow Him as He leads and guides me for His name sake.

Sappy Movies

Those who know me know that I'm not generally a fan of sappy movies; I'm not drawn to the "happily ever after" media, the tales that neatly get wrapped with a bow in one setting.  My friends tease me about my love for sad movies.  Truth is, I'm drawn to sad movies because they seem to better mirror reality; life is difficult; it doesn't get worked out after a 30 minute episode.

Earlier this week I was watching a movie in one of my classes.  It dealt with a lot of difficult issues, so initially I liked it.  And then the ending: it ended with the kid getting out of the psych ward after 5 days and meeting a girlfriend there and his buddies all getting better and the coveted pizza party celebrated.  Blah!  Way to ruin what felt like a descent film by throwing a Hollywood ending on it.

As this thought crossed my mind, I was convicted in my spirit.  Wait, maybe this isn't as far fetched as I first judged.  As Christians, aren't we promised a day in which there will be no more tears, crying, pain, or death (Rev 21)?  Don't we have the hope of a Redeemer who will return and restore His world to become what He originally created it to be?  Don't we have a Conqueror who will once and for all defeat crafty Sin and Death?  Aren't we promised a happy ending in which our God and King returns, bringing us into right relationship with Him, creation, and one another?

Perhaps Hollywood doesn't have it all wrong.  Yes, we currently live in a broken world filled with heartache and pain; we see it everyday in the news and in our own lives.  But there is a greater reality, one that we often cannot see: God's reality of shalom and hope and prosperity, His original creation.  And further, His promise to restore His world to what it once was.  The Easter story proves that we are promised a happy ending.

Come, Lord Jesus, come. 

Beautiful things

I woke up this morning with this song in my head.  The beauty of God's plan amazes me.  It amazes me how He can transform the aches and pains of our life into beauty.  The creativity of His plan is incredible.

Take this for example: two summers ago, I went into the dentist to get a cavity filled; not a fun process, but a necessary one.  In the process, I ended up speaking with a woman who, come May, I get to call my mother-in-law.  Through the irritation of a damaged tooth, I met a man who has become the love of my life, who seemed impossible, who loves God, people, and Africa, who cares for me and draws me closer to the LORD daily.  Beautiful things out of dust.

As I reflect on the past year, I'm amazed by how much God has grown me.  And growth comes through growing pains: facing lies in my life, conflicts with loved ones, loose in the pruning process, awareness of my own sinfulness.  Yet through it all, God has transformed my heart, transformed my life.  He's molded me into who He as created me to be.  And I praise Him!  I thank Him for His patience and grace.  I thank Him for seeing beauty in this speak of dust.

Pain

Pain is a topic that I've been wrestling with lately as well. As people, we tend to run from pain.  We tend to fear pain.  We find ways to distract ourselves when we feel uncomfortable: we flee the situation, thought, or emotion. We numb, deny, devalue, or distract away our pain.  But pain has a purpose.  The pain in my foot tells me that something is wrong, that something needs to be attended to.  If I choose to ignore the pain and run anyway, I could end up seriously injuring myself.  Without acknowledging the pain, I can't give it the time and attention that it needs.  If I don't admit the hurt, I can't heal.  This doesn't mean that we're to dwell in our pain or seek out ways to hurt ourselves.  It simply means that we must take the time to acknowledge our pain and give it time and attention to heal that we may be healthy again and grow stronger from it.  Pain doesn't go away from ignoring it; pain continues until we deal with it.

I think another piece of pain is also accepting that it is a part of life.  I think part of the reason that we long for a pain-free life is because something deep in our souls tell us this is not how life is meant to be; this is not what we were created for.  And that piece of us is right!  God didn't create pain; pain is a result of sin in the world.  Yet praise God that He hasn't left us in hopeless brokenness!  He has promised a world of restoration, and not just for the future, but also for now!  Look at the beauty of the human body: when you get a scrap, you don't bleed infinitely; though God did not design one's body to experience pain and evil, He has graciously adapted it for healing; quickly white blood cells respond to the scrap and a new layer of skin is created to heal the body.  And so God also heals our hearts.  He graciously gives us the hope and peace of His perfect plan.  Though in this world we will have trouble, we may take heart, for Christ has overcome the world (John 16:33).  We didn't fear or flee from pain, but rather accept it as a part of fallen creation knowing that God is greater than our pain.  There are times when are pain is too much for us, but it is never too much for God.  God is bigger than our pain.  He is our strength and source of healing.