I Don't Know Why It's Me

It's that time of year when you're supposed to start up a list of everything you're thankful for. And then get that Josh Groban song in your head.

It's also that time of year when depression befalls a silent minority not because they aren't thankful for things but because of what they want to be thankful for that they just can't be. Either because they don't have that thing or because they simply can't be thankful for painful things the way they know a "Christian" should. Does it make them a bad Christian? Oh, just put that on the growing list of things to be concerned about this season. Then put your worries, your sorrow aside because, gosh darnit, we're having Christmas. Starting in October.

The rest of us go about our holidays feeling blessed and fulfilled and giggly and pity the ones that can't seem to keep up.

The thing is that I'm not entirely in either of these categories. I have a family with whom I love to celebrate. Who I love to celebrate. Two of my pretty apartment mates surround me with their work and their laughs and the sunlight is streaming in through the door, creating a glow off of our fake flowers (DIE blumen!) and, for me, life in general. I'm thankful for that. But I also sometimes (most times) wonder if "glowy" is really what I'm supposed to be going for. A lot of people spend their lives trying to make their family something they can be thankful for, or turn their pain to gladness, or to reach a contentedness with the people or places around them. There are those who deeply desire picture perfection and others who will strive to make it look like they have it. Especially around the holidays. Others know they won't ever have "perfect" and decide, especially at the holidays, that they just wont celebrate in light of that.

Then there are the me's. The ones who, by a lot of other people's standards, have perfect. Not that they are perfect, but they have an ideal situation. And they know that people are looking in thinking "yeah, if I had that situation, then I would be perfect. Then I would be thankful." People like me who are so genuinely thankful for having all a person could want but realize it's not all a person needs. Because if what I have is what people need to be "perfect" or whatever and I truly believed that, it says to other people "if you don't have a family like mine, if you are surrounded by people you don't like, if you're feeling pain, then you can't have the hope that I have." Which, of course, couldn't be further from the truth. And, ultimately, what I have is not perfect. It might be ideal, but it's not worth striving for, this aura of perfection.

Why?

Because once you get there, where I am, apparently, you still have this: "But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law (or other people's definition of "perfection"), but that which is through faith in Christ-- the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith." (Philippians 3: 7-9)

Having close to everything by the worlds standards is that much more I have to be prepared to call loss compared to knowing Christ. Not that I have to lose it. Not that I can't be thankful for it. But what does the girl who has everything need? What else could I possibly want? I could use this sentiment to smile brightly at parties and call myself blessed this Christmas season and I probably will. Because if someone so rich and privileged as me can't get happy, who can, right?

But the girl who has everything needs Christ. Because the girl who has everything has more to lose without Him. And when all of it is gone, He is what remains. So I'll use the season to be grateful as I should, but I'll do my best to use it as a time to come to know even more how useless these things are compared to being "found in Christ." I'll do my best to use this time to come to and understanding of what that means. And how it should look in my life.

I don't know why it's me, the girl who has "everything." But in the meantime, I'll have this:

²⁵Woe to you who are well fed now,

for you will go hungry.

Woe to you who laugh now,

for you will mourn and weep.

²⁶Woe to you when all men speak well of you,

for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets.

Jesus' words. Words that say to me "be happy now, be thankful now, eat, laugh and enjoy good counsel now. But it just isn't where it's at. Because when the day comes that you're hungry or mourning or the object of unkind or untruthful words I'll be just the same. I'll be enough then in a way your 'good' life only appears to be enough now."

I don't know why it's me, the girl who really has nothing.

Jesus sets up the spectrum in those verses and tells the crowd that he's got the in between covered. Whether I have good or have have plenty (mostly because one day my "plenty" will be irrelevant) Jesus is where it's at.

He says "you're not good enough, you will lose your things and life will be tough." But he also looks at every single person, to me, and says "I love you and I want to help."

I don't know why it's me.

But, it isn't just for me.

And that is what I'm thankful for this season.

That and really good coffee creamers. I had to mention it. Just to take this post up a notch...

I know, I know, I go on and on about Christ's sufficiency and the plight of a person who doesn't have to want for much and then bring up creamer.

But the truth is, "I wont that."

And when Katie Jones tries to steal that?

Well.

It doesn't much bring out the best in either of us.

Just ask Peterso.

Or Sally.

But hilarity does ensue.

(this is not me trying to pants Katie Jones.)

(this is my unsuccessful attempt at getting and using a straw for a sip.)

(this is the part when I say "I can't believe we haven't spilled this all over ourselves." KJ gets an idea...)

(this is the part when KJ pours the coffee all over me.)

(this is the part where I try to wipe the coffee up with her sweatshirt.)

In the end I had to come to terms with that I might even be a tad addicted to creamer.

It's not easy being her roommate. But someone had to do it.

I don't know why it's me.

(I'm glad it is)

Up To

Well you know what they say.

Don't be a stranger.

(one of these days I'm going to have to go back and compile a list of all the things they have said on this blog)

I've been a stranger of this blog for the sake of my journal and some stuff is going down there, y'all. Surely I'll write about that at some point (well, you know, like at the end of this post). In the meantime I've been up to a lot of other things about which I felt the blog should be brought up to speed.

Like today I bought a snack size ice cream crunch bar and it took me straight back to the first ten minutes of every single visit to my mammaws house. Seriously, every time it was straight to the freezer for us. It is a tradition I hope to pass down, no doubt.

Right now I am partaking of my current favorite food. I always knew I liked the casserole and enjoyed the nights when we had sweet potatoes at dinner in years past. However, it is now a staple in my diet. It is a good regulator in my diet, too, if you know what I mean. And if you know what I mean, I am sorry for the tmi.

I am also enjoying a warm cup of french roast coffee, which I only recently discovered is different from french vanilla flavored coffee. Recently meaning today. I know. It is delightful, however, my little cup of french roast.

I am all kinds of nAsty from kickboxing with Kelsie and our good friend Kathy Smith. We found out tonight as we watched the credits on the video that good 'ol Kathy has a personal hair stylist for maintaining her locks during the taped workout routine. It's okay, though. Next time I'll just pretend I'm kicking Kathy in face instead of a made up attacker. Should improve my technique, I'm thinking.

Yesterday I tripped over a speed bump. Tripped like fell on the ground, not trip like stumbled.

However, I have yet to be crowned LVP* on my flag football team, so I haven't lost all skill. Just the walking skills, apparently.

*Least Valuable Player

Yesterday I finally went in to check on a little boy in the bathroom during sunday school and found him standing, as in climbing, on the urinal. So that was good.

I've fallen asleep twice in the library in the last week, a habit that more than once produced imprints like these on my forearm. A habit that also led me to buy french roast coffee at the sto today. Maybe I'll go back for french vanilla creamer. The gingerbread will have to do for now. Until Katie Jones uses all of it up (it was my gift to her, until I began drinking coffee again and started ganking on it).

I read the TIME and the PEOPLE magazine at the library. Because I would never want to seem either ALL boring or ALL shallow. A mixture of the two will do for me, thanks.

I believe I've found the perfect (albeit calorie laden) fusion of seasons: pumpkin spice egg nog.

I've shopped for and helped bake a beautiful cake.

I've thrown (or facilitated the throwing of) a bridal shower for Noelle. You might have heard of her.

I was Sadie the Cleaning Lady for halloween. Who? Oh, get ready. Give this gem a looksy. (shout out to my bloom girls! ;) )

I executed the duties of a BCM state council member last weekend at (the retreat formerly known as) Axis. But mainly grew to love the people that make up our own "group."

I've written papers, gone to class, curled up to watch Arthur and chatted late into the night.

I guest blogged on Noelle's intern site. You might have heard of her.

http://fairviewintern.blogspot.com/2009/11/caught.html

But quite possibly the hardest thing I've done in the past week has been to begin to really know God's faithfulness at night and His love in the morning (Psalm 91). The sun's rays literally woke me up on Sunday.

A sweet peace I needed after a tough Saturday night. I of course took a picture of it. I say hard only because it is time consuming to get to know God. It is difficult to ask Him to challenge me and it is altering to sit as He does so. It is waking me up to sit and actually maul over the different, difficult areas of my life and other peoples' lives where I need God to work. Creating the time to take each request to Him requires me to acknowledge each burden and admit my own inability to fix them. It is a bit exhausting to feel the weight of each issue as I bring it to the God who can rescue me from them. Or begin to. It is a bit addicting, this time with Him.

The more I carry to Christ's feet, the more I am eager to see Him work. The more available I make myself to see Him work. And as I see it, I am inclined to head right back to my red leather journal and thank God. Thank Him that His word is coming alive for me the way I have begun to beg Him for it to. It is hard, this process, because the more I involve myself with God, the more dissatisfied with my way of doing things I become. The more I long for more. It is the best longing, the kind that is met by promises made by God throughout the Bible. And as these promises are made known to me, the more I long to see them realized in my life. It's a longing for more that I don't know how to attain. It's a good longing because it absolutely necessitates God's presence and intervention in my life. So the issues that surround me are hard, but owning up to them brings me into a place of need that can only be met by God himself. It is a God-sized yearning only satisfied by a real, active relationship with Him.

I continue to feel like I'm talking in circles in my head and I know I am doing so in my journal and on this blog. What amazes me, though, is when small bouts of clarity come through and I can know, just know, that it is God working in my heart. Because I asked Him to. And because He is faithful. And because He loves me. So I can sing His praise in the morning and at night. Because in a small way I then know of His love and His faithfulness. I don't have to be frustrated by my own empty words or songs because in what little I know from one week I mean the praise I am offering up. And while I talk in circles trying to explain it, there is peace in the midst of being before God. God can and He does silence the fears and the anxieties like no other person or amount of writing can.

That's why I haven't been writing. Because I'm seeking the silence and letting my words be few (well, okay, not exactly in this post).

It's why I may not have been the most charismatic friend in the past few days. I know I'm acting differently because I believe God is making a difference. If I've been distant it's because I've found refuge. If I've secluded myself it's because I feel like I've found a place to really meet God. And it's exciting and it's what I'm drawn to. Sure I want to be a more pleasurable person to be around. Absolutely I want to bear more fruit. And oh how desperately I want to be what my friends need me to be for them right now. But that just can't happen before I am "rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as [I] was taught and overflowing with thankfulness" (Colossians 2:7). I can talk to friends and type on this blog all I want to-- puffed "up with idle notions" (2:18)-- but the roots only grow "as God causes [them] to grow" (2:19).

I can endure my own hardships and those of the people around me, I can deal with my own concerns and those of others and I could probably even keep up my enthusiasm and optimism because that is just how my personality works. It's probably a very useful tool, said personality. But as is, or as recently was, God could still say this against me : "you have forsaken your first love" (Revelation 2:4). God, "the First and the Last, who died and came to life again," is with the the afflicted and the poverty-stricken. He makes them rich. He tells them to be faithful to the point of death and promises them the crown of life (Revelation 2:9-10). These people haven't abandoned their first love because they are constantly faced with the possibility of dying for their faithfulness to Him.

What is it worth to me to know God as my first love?

A woman came to the BCM on Saturday night to speak for the Voice of the Martyrs. Or to speak as the voice of the martyrs. With her came God's presence and the spirit of a woman I want to be. A woman who has seen the scars and the scarring of people who decided it was worth everything to have God as their first love. A woman who makes it her job to care for people whose true afflictions and poverty only God knows (and He does promise to know them in Revelation). It sort of rocked my core to see the kind of passion I want embodied. And so I wrote. Like the wind. In pencil. In my not so little red leather journal.

11-7-09

"I just don't fear the death thing. Not here. Not now. I mean, I know I would in the face of it. But I kind of want to be there. In abandon. Without all of this quarreling and personality conflict. I don't want to just hear stories. I want to be there with these people. With them in their wounds? Maybe. In their pain? For sure. It's where I'm supposed to be. With them. With 'the walk.' Am I just saying that tonight? Is this a phase? A page of a journal? I don't have to be married by 30, God. I mean, I'd like a like-minded, supportive spouse. But I don't need it. Am I just writing that tonight? Maybe. But it is my heart. Make it my heart, will you? Wouldn't you? I don't need children. I feel like I need to be around them. But my own? I just don't need it. Shane and Shane's 'yearn' is on right now. That is what I need. I need to yearn for you. I need your spirit. That's what I need. That's it. God, I'll write it all night. Because I just feel like it is the only thing missing from this heart of mine. The yearning. The intense desire for your will. The kind that will wake me up at night because sleep isn't all there is, but neither is exhaustion for the sake of nothingness. If I'm going to be exhausted, I want to be exhausted well. Like Darcie said tonight, if they're going to be persecuted, they want to be persecuted well. As in for you. And the only way it will be for you is if it is out of a passion for you. And a yearning for you. And out of a passion for the people around me. A passion not compromised by dispute or personality differences. And God, if I knew, if I knew how, I'd be there. I'd be doing it. But I just don't know how. YOu do. And so all I have to know is you and its all one big circle that ends with the necessity of a heart that yearns for you. I want it. I need it. I feel that. But how do I get it and where do I go with it? You brought me to Virginia, take me from it. Show me the next step as it rapidly approaches... I sit here with my big 'ol Bible in the middle of a room, sitting indian style in the middle of the BCM thinking "dang, anything else?" What else do I need? What else is it going to take? North Koreans are chillin' with their orange balloons with Mark secretly written all up on it and they're good with that. Iranians have little 2inx2in Bibles and they've learned to trust in you and learn from those resources. What is it going to take for me? If I felt fear in claiming your name, God, in facing death, I'd be feeling something deeply, passionately, and intimately in you, through you. Oh to be so rich as the church at Smyrna! Make me so rich, God, if I dare challenge you to that. Challenge me. Here am I. And here I am meaning it. Show me the next move."

In Matthew 11, when John the Baptist is in prison, having expected all of his life to be intimately connected with the establishment of the kingdom, he sends his own disciple to ask Jesus "are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"

This is how Jesus responds: "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me." Not blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of his own stubbornness or smarts or well-acted-out faith. The man who does not fall away on account of his knowledge of Christ and what He has done.

I want to be that man.

My Bible commentary thing asks this question: "Do you know the God of the Bible well enough to know if you truly worship him?" The voice of Tracy Morgan as Brian Fellow pops up in my head "Do I?!"

I'm getting there. That is what I'm up to.

Bygones

One of our breakout sessions this weekend was about journaling and our exercise was to journal. So I did.

10/31/09

"Halloween. Yours is the only spirit I want in this room. Remember that Halloween 14 years ago? The Holy Ghost party? Those friends, that church, that child? Did you know then that they'd move away? Did you know the future of Saddle Creek?

Did you know I'd be here, in this room, with these friends, as this child? Of course you did. You knew.

Do I take that for granted? Do I just assume you'll take the reigns and carry me through, carry my friends through? I just don't have as much of an issue with trusting you as I do asking you. I believe you know your plans, but it doesn't mean it'll just happen. It doesn't mean that doubt won't creep in or words won't cut deep or relationships wont be a struggle. These things just happen when I assume that we're good. That you've got it without even haven communicated with you. I measure myself against other people and my beliefs conform to theirs. It's not that they are bad beliefs. But they just aren't yours. They aren't your words and without your words, mine mean nothing.

14 years, God. 14 years of changes and phases and laughter and pain. So many times that I've need your words and so many times I've spoken my own. I believe that you created me to think independently and be smart. To reason. To put stuff together in my head. But when I'm not seeking evidence of you, I have little to actually claim faith in.

I claim you. But to know you? 14 years worth? I feel like I'm behind."

I hate this problem. And I hate that it is a persistent one in my life.

I don't lack belief. I don't lack faith.

I lack maturity. I lack abandon.

"Still another said, 'I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.' Jesus replied, 'No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God." -Luke 9:61-62

Well, I mean, let's back up. I just straight up lack reading my Bible. If I'm behind it's because I haven't used my resources. It's that I've aspired to the life of greater maturity but have done little to reach it. I am at once okay with where I am and in another instant hating it. One moment if feel like I've done enough. The next I feel behind.

I'll follow you, Lord, but first...

I have a lot of "firsts." The main one is "but first, don't you see how badly I've failed. How childish I've been. Don't you see my record, here? Don't you hate the lukewarm? I'm just average. I've just been comfortable. You despise 'servants' like me. The ones who say 'no, no. I've done enough. See?...' Don't you see how distant I've been?"

But first, let me think it through. Let me decide if I'm good enough. Let me decide if she is good enough. Let me decide if he is good enough. Let me decide if you are good enough.

I'm not. Let me work on that and get back to you. Don't worry I'll figure it out. Let me look back. Let me go to a conference. Let me talk to friends. Let me think.

The question, though, I believe, is are you, God, good enough? Good enough for my abandon? Good enough for my attention?

(The retreat formerly known as) Axis brings out a side of me I feel like you meant to be very useful. The side of me that will drop the thought of sleep and instigate a three legged race. The side that will ball up in a corner of telephone booth to beat a record. The side that will sleep on a pee stained, pee reeking bed because half the world doesn't have half that. The side that will hop on a stage and have the most fun, if only for a few minutes, seeing the laughter and glee of new people. The side that will dance around to "I'll fly away" not because it's what I'm supposed to do but because it's what I'm not. Because by the end of the weekend you managed to teach something to this hurt, confused heart. The side of me that will go to bed that exact same day crying because knowing something just isn't enough. Knowing a lot of things just isn't enough. Believing a lot of things just isn't enough. It isn't enough compared to the "surpassing greatness of know Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I (should) have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ-- the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead." (Philippians 3:8-11)

The side of me that is ready to give a lot of things up.

Who is ready to be humbled, even humiliated.

(insert picture of my badonkadonk with rust stains all up on it here)

Who at the end of it all would like to attain to resurrection. Not because heaven has gold or my grandpa (but I mean, hey B-Daddy) but because resurrection is the only way to truly be in the presence of Christ. Yes, after humbling myself to servanthood, I hope to be there, finding the glory in your presence.

But if not.

"Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to the king, 'O Nebuchadnessar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, o king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:16-18)

But if not, it would be worth it anyway. You would be worth the humiliation of being reduced to a foot washing peasant. Glorification for me or not. Because it will have been to your glory. And that is enough. You don't need me for the glory in the first place. You sure don't need to glorify me.

I'm not good enough.

But you gave me your attention. And you abandoned your majesty to humble yourself as a servant.

Good enough for my attention? Good enough for my abandon? Good enough for my humiliation?

The three-legged race is. The phone booth is. The laughter is.

Aren't you?

Phrased like this it comes so simply to me. You are more than enough.

Hence the dancing and subsequent crying. More than I know, you are enough. And what I know is not enough.

I will follow you, Lord, but first let me know a little more.

"My brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained." (Philippians 3:13-16)

I will glorify you, Sadie, but first let me humble you.

That starts from where I am. Not where I want to be. Not where I was. But from where I am, with what I have already attained.

Let bygones be bygones.

I will be glorified, Sadie, but first let me show you humility. Let me exemplify it. Let me bring it about in you. Have faith in that. You be the evidence. You press towards the goal. You keep lowering yourself. You serve me. You reach the bottom and see if there isn't a prize waiting.

I will, Lord, but even if there is not, I will not serve anything, anyone, else first.

It is what God wants to hear, I think. It is the response I want to give.

But as is, I have a lot of firsts. The main one is "but first, don't you see how badly I've failed. How childish I've been. Don't you see my record, here? Don't you hate the lukewarm? I'm just average. I've just been comfortable. You despise 'servants' like me. The ones who say 'no, no. I've done enough. See?...' Don't you see how distant I've been?"

Family. School. Friends. Sleep. TV. Technology. Me. All have gone first.

But I'm letting bygones be bygones.

Sure I feel inadequate. Sure I feel behind in knowing the God who knows me intimately.

But it was never about me.

At least not until God decided to make it about me. And you.

It's not about a prize or the glory in being able to say "yes, I have done enough."

It's about that "the God we serve is able." (Daniel 3:17).

Able enough for me to abandon my bygones. And more than good enough.