Sovereign

God is so sovereign. He has such perfect timing. Every rut He has you is the very best place for you to be. Think of that. Of all the scenarios that you could possibly be in, the one you are in, whether completely heart wrenching or utterly exhilarating, is exactly the place that brings God the most glory. Think about that some more. God has a plan. A plan with purpose. An incredibly intricate plan spread across millennia with the little sliver that is your life included somewhere within. And your life has its own intricacies. Every little breath of every human to ever live, all ordained by God. And this plan has an end, and the end will be our good (for those In Christ) and His glory.

So here is a little taste from my own experience of how to keep that perspective amidst all the pain you may be in now.

As described in my previous post here, I have dealt with depression from teenage years on. My biggest pit came shortly after high school. I lost a boyfriend, along with most of my friends (his friends). My family wasn't there. I moved away to the largest university in the U.S. (and for an introvert, this is really hard to deal with). I had a lot of free time with a light class load, giving me too much time to sit alone in my apartment thinking of how terrible I was, how no one loved me, and praying my life would end before waking the next morning. I watched thousands of people around me living lives that seemed meaningless to me. I went out for the Rowing team, and it was pretty much the only thing that got me out of bed each day. But even that became too much for me and I quit just before finals. I hadn't found a church yet, so I was away from the Body. I was too numb to read the Word regularly. Basically you get the point, it was a pretty rough first semester.

Row, row, row your boat!

But looking back, I see God working when I couldn't see or hear him then. I had a job at the church the summer when I "lost it all", where I not only was forced to get out of the house, but I had men and women (even if my friends had left me) pouring truth into me. Entering school, my classes weren't too hard (although it gave me a lot of time, it didn't add to the stress). Two of my three roommates ended up being pretty amazing once I left my room (so I didn't have drama there either). I had a really great older friend to speak truth to me, watch TV shows, and have some gentle company. I had a car, so I wasn't STUCK and I could go home (which I did often that first year). I had rowing, so at least I didn't gain a lot of weight and feel like sloth, and I got to be out on a huge beautiful lake everyday. My school was paid for. Although I felt so much, I had so much more to be thankful for. I may have felt dead on the inside, but God kept me alive. You can see this from my first few posts when I started this blog that semester.

All the pruning, pressing and molding was for a purpose. I look back on how my life could have gone if God had continued to let me go down my own road. It could've been an enjoyable life, even God-glorifying on some level. But He wanted more for me, and he knew that this was the only way for stubborn me to get there.

By December I was pretty much out of my pit. Not to say I wasn't still sad sometimes, but I found a way to fall asleep without tears, and my smiles became genuine. I "awoke" from the numbness shortly before finals after becoming involved with another Christian guy. I was pretty desperate for attention (that stupid approval idol). I walked right into a trap. And I got caught. God dumped a bucket of water on my sleeping soul, and it was enough to snap me back to life. So I got the tattoos I'd wanted for years to remember my encounter with God then.

Jehovah Jireh: "God will provide."
Jehovah Shammah: "God is there."

Within a month a met my future husband. This is not a formula for getting a man. "Do this, go through that, and God will bring you a husband." It doesn't work like that. This is simply my story. Around New Year's, Future Husband came home from seminary. I knew the man, but I didn't meet him till he was hanging out with the college group (and me). It was perfect timing. I wouldn't have been prepared for such a time unless I had gone through that emotional ringer. He was tired of dating and hadn't met anyone at school. I was just into college, so I was never on his radar until then. I guess you could say we "hit it off"?

Once he went back up to North Carolina, and I Orlando, neither of us thought a little mutual attraction could sustain a long-distance relationship merely days after meeting. In some way it didn't; God did. We were able to get to know each other very well without any physical contact, and it taught us how to be intentional with communication. He pursued and I learned how to let him (something I think is much harder as a woman than the former). By the time he came home for Spring Break it was very clear to both of us what this was. So he asked to pursue me (for marriage). God was really providential in that I (a girl with trust/abandonment) immediately trusted him. Something inside me (I'm going to go with the Holy Spirit) drew me toward him without fear. On the other side, Future Husband took his time with pursuing me, where he normally hadn't. God held us together. He continued to for the almost two years apart. And he continues to as he is coming home soon. And will continue to as we enter marriage.

God doesn't waste your sorrows. He planned them, uses them, and draws you to him through them. It's all worth it, I promise.

In Christ. 

Identity

As young woman growing up, my identity was found in everything. As a young girl it was found in my best friend, my parents, and my biggest hero, my sister. But as I got a little older, it slowly moved from people, to things, then again to ideas, then eventually full circle (well in the twenty years I've been here so far) back to people.

I'm an Army Brat, which basically means my dad missed a lot of stuff in the name of "patriotism". He became a Green Beret the day I was born, a day in which he was absent. So right from the beginning, my life formed around his absence. First steps, first words (which were "dada" of course), birthdays, holidays, first days of school, cross country meets, graduation, prom, baptism, college, etc. Don't get me wrong here, my Faja is an excellent one. When he was home, he was fully there. He was skilled in the art of compartmentalization. And he was very attentive to his girls. But the mere absence was enough to forge a father-sized hole in my heart.

When I was twelve, my dad moved out family from my home in Tennessee to Tampa. I hated it. You see, unlike most army brats, my dad found ways of keeping us in one place while he would move, deploy, go to training schools, etc. So this move took a lot from me. I started 7th grade alone. I didn't have a single friend for a least a month into school, and even after that I had the one. I was verbally bullied by girls and boys for my frizzy hair, tie-dye t-shirts, and acne. I cam from a quaint military base where pretty much all the brats got along because they all understood each other, to a place where kids were obsessed with image, dating, and drama. So you could say I didn't really fit in. But this bombardment soon became internalized.

Freshman year of high school. 

I began to change the way I dressed. I wore unusually crafty outfits (as seen above) to get attention or applause. I reveled in the name of "non-conformity". My bold facade gained me a few friends, but I still cried myself to sleep at night. I bigger hole had formed in my heart.

I then sought knowledge. I had always been a fairly smart kid, but I began to seek approval in being intelligent. To impress teachers, peers, and especially my dad (you see, I wasn't the type to get in trouble for attention). But of all my knowledge, I didn't have an ounce of wisdom. And the hole got a little wider.

After this I pursued other accomplishments. In high school running consumed my life. I let it distract me from the pain inside. I used to to impress people. But I was never good enough. I was never as strong as some of the other girls on the team, never as thin. Never worked hard enough to get somewhere. Even as the captain my last year, I would never be as talented as my sister, and for that my dad would never be satisfied with me. I couldn't run from the hole within me.

After a CC meet. We're definitely sisters.

I then built my identity around being a "good little Christian girl". I'd grown up in church, but was virtually dead until I was 13. But I didn't understand where my identity lied yet. I used this new title to bolster all my previous foundations. I dress weirdly, but modestly. I did bold things "in the name of Jesus" for attention. I said things to make my dad happy. But knowing my sin after salvation only served to bring my deeper into depression. My high school years were a blur of happy facades, Christianese, and praying not to wake up each morning.

I truly know that I was saved at 12. I understood the Gospel then. But I didn't live in it yet. So here enters another twist in my story. A boy. A boy who had all the right qualities, personality, etc. I immediately clung to him in friendship and eventually in dating. I was unaware of this foundation when it formed. But I was all too aware when it was stripped from beneath me right after graduation. He was gone. My friends left me. I went away to college. My dad was still gone. I was alone. I had nothing left to cling too.

First semester of college. Rowing: my only distraction.

But God...
He saw me there. He saw me when all my walls disappeared. With only my ugly sin to show for. With everything against me. Nothing to earn his love, nothing to demand any sort of favor.
At my lowest I saw him there. I saw him when all my walls disappeared. With all his grace and mercy to show for. With everything supporting him. Nothing to earn my disobedience, nothing to demand any sort of abandonment.

God was kind to me. He wouldn't allow me to cling to something less satisfying than Himself. He let everything fall. He waited patiently for me to learn the hard way that he alone is my portion. He alone can satisfy. He alone can fill the gaping hole in my soul that I kept filling with dust. And not only was he willing to fill my heart, he made it new. He stripped away the desires that lead to destruction, and drew me near to the things that brought life: Himself. He gave me a new identity. A real identity. One that would stand, one that would last. A daughter. A child. An heir with Christ. In Christ I stand. Not on myself, not on others or anything. To live in Christ is to never search again, for I am found in Him.
In Christ. 

Authenticity

I live in a country where it's very normal to have a church on just about every corner. I go to a very large church where it's likely that I know of less than five percent of it's several thousand members. It's easy to get lost in the shuffle, of all the pomp and circumstance. Stand up. Sit down. Stand back up. Shake a few strangers' hands. Sit back down. Say amen. Raise your hands. "How are you doing?" "Good, you?" "Good." "Pray for my..." "Of course (not)." Repeat a few more times. Then we all get back into our cars, and go about our days. 

I can't help but think I am missing something here. The Christian life has to be more than a few surface-y conversations, convicting sermons we have no real intention of obeying, cheesy radio and bumper stickers, and Lifeway bookstore (not knocking that store, I'm actually a frequent customer). The fact of the matter is that God himself came to die in my stead and was raised from the dead to prove his payment was sufficient. But does this really affect me? Has it really sunk in? Not just a few convicting tears at church camp, not just the christian lingo, not just the theological book sitting on my shelf that I claim to read. Not the serving in Middle school ministry, not being active in the college ministry, or even all the bible studies. It's all meaningless if not in Christ. 

When I'm faced with a choice, what do I so often do? I pray for opportunities to share the Gospel, but I either just miss them or ignore them when they come. Laziness, lack of vigilance, selfishness, fear, etc. You name it, I've felt it. I can only hide behind my introversion for so long. It's not even a good excuse. When a guy walked up to me (just moments after praying for this) offering a "self-actualization" book to me and a moment of my time, that was my cue. Yet I missed it. When the girl sitting next to me in class makes a comment, that was my cue to chime in. When my Jewish professor compliments me on my knowledge of the Old Testament, that was my cue to redirect the glory. Nope. Just "Thank you." Those cues will always keep coming, but I when will I start obeying? When will I actually listen to the Savior and LORD I claim over my life? 

Valley of Vision, "The Great God"

If I'm being honest, I can only think of one handful of lost people in my life. How am I supposed to react to that? The Christian life is not a separatist lifestyle. It's one fully engaged in culture and current events. Yet I mostly live in a bubble. Directly opposed to the Bible and the life and ministry of Jesus Christ, the one whom I claim to be like.

Yet I am also rarely honest with those Christians I see most often. I go about my day, they go about theirs. I go home to an unbelieving sister, brother-in-law, and toddler niece that I hypocritically react to rather than serving them like the Man I pretend to uphold. I treat my mother with a completely inappropriate attitude. I veg in my room on Netflix rather than soaking in the WORD OF GOD (or even homework for that matter!?) I manipulate the people around me, especially my fiancé, to fuel my approval idol. This list could go on for hours. My point is that I am a sinner. And unlike other sinners (lost people), I claim to follow Christ. I ardently say one thing, then oppose it with my next breath. This is much worse. 

"Now the law came to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Romans 5:20-21

This is a promise to which I cling. When I am weak, he is made strong. But in writing this post, my point is not to brush this under the rug again. It serves only to shed light where I often hide. These are things I am thinking of often these days and am daily seeking to turn from through the Holy Spirit in me. Honesty without repentance is just another shade of pride.

In Christ. 

Begin Again.

In the interest of attempting to blog more regularly, I find myself sitting in my pink reading chair with a cup of Starbuck Thanksgiving blend (proof of God's abundant grace on this earth) under my favorite quilt on this late Tuesday morning. In the past I have used this blog as in inspiration board whenever I felt that what I had to say was worth publishing. That usually had something to do with the Gospel, which of course isn't a bad thing, but I wasn't writing consistently enough to actually create a blog. SO here I am starting this over. This will be a blog about my life, my crazy yet at the same time boring yet also confusing and imperfect mess of a life. I hope that by uncovering the mess you (if there are any of you out there!) will see the big God working in my little life to bring glory to himself in my corner of this big world. The messier I am, the more gracious he becomes. Ain't that amazing? BIG GOD, little me.
And as it's a blog about my life, y'all should know a little about it, right?

• I am engaged to the wonderful Michael, he proposed this past October. He is finishing seminary in North Carolina. We have been long-distance since the beginning almost two years ago. 

He did good. 

• I study History, and you may find me relating things to some random person that you may not care about, so bear with me! History means I spend a lot of time reading things that put most people to sleep, but keep me up hours. I'm just a nerd like that. I have a special hankering for Church History. 
• I live with (until I tie the knot next Spring!) my sister (only sibling), her husband, and the crazy-beautiful-exhausting-mess of a one-year old Michaela, my niece. I spend a lot of time with this kid, and will probably mention her a lot.

She really loves to eat!

• I am a Green Beret brat! That basically just means that my dad spent most of my life kicking butts and taking names, but also that I'm from several home towns. I'm still realizing how much the military has affected me, even as an adult. 

My bald baby head wearing Daddy's beret. 

• I love non-fiction books, naps, over-priced coffee, expensive clothing super sales and a military/student discount (JCrew!!), Gilmore Girls marathons, missions, and painting. Among a thousand other things to be revealed at another time....

Here's to a new beginning.

In Christ.