Trading my superwoman cape for a crown

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” ~Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)

I’ve had this verse underlined in my Bible for years and have even written it down to display in my room on mirrors or bulletin boards because I liked the sound of it. It painted the picture of a loving savior, opening his arms, and inviting me to enjoy a vacation with him.  No schedule, no work, just rest for a weary soul. But this verse was never a reality to me until this year and my experience over the last few weeks. I had no idea how God was going to use it to radically alter how I looked at life, relationships, his character, my character, silence, and being still. It has been one of the most frustrating, horrible, wonderful, and exhilarating experiences of my life.  The blessings God revealed during this time will likely span a few posts because a number of you have already sat through the disjointed monologue lasting 15-30 minutes and I won’t subject you to that again. But I am excited to share this story and the ones that follow. I pray that it will lead you to your own place of rest and open your eyes to a most loving and gracious creator who wants to spend time just the two of you.

           

In my lifetime, I don’t think I could count the number of soccer balls that have flown at great speeds toward my head. It’s the nature of this beautiful game, sometimes you are prepared for them, and sometimes you are not. Friday, January 4, 2013, I was not prepared for the ball that hit me in the face and knocked me off my feet to the turf below. I remember leaving the game, thinking I was a little tippy and probably shouldn’t play anymore (although I later learned I got back up and continued playing for awhile after the hit). The rest of the weekend brought a couple different birthday celebrations and only in retrospect were there hints that something may not be quite right. By the time Monday rolled around, I thought I had a touch of food poisoning from the day before and called in sick to work. What I learned as the day progressed, was that I was having a hard time focusing, the light’s were unbearable making my eyes want to stay closed and retreat into darkness, and I had a headache. At some point, when the words I was reading started jumping around the page, going in and out of focus, I realized that I probably had a concussion. No big deal I thought. I work with concussions every day and knew exactly what to do. I put myself on physical and cognitive rest, turned off all the lights in my apartment, and slept 10-12 hours each night with 1-2 naps during the day for the next week.

           

Well, if the concussion weren’t enough, later that week I caught one of those nasty bugs floating around that felt like I was swallowing a hornets’ nest, my face was going to explode off my head, the facet in my nose was locked in the on position, and a 500 pound grizzly bear had taken up residence on my chest.  This lasted about a week until the doctor gave me some antibiotics and I began to re-enter the land of the living. Two weeks after the initial hit to the head, I returned to work for a half day, finally over the bug and feeling part human again. It was a Friday so I had the weekend to recover. Monday, I woke up excited to get back to normal, ignoring the little headache that had become a new normal. I thought I was ready to go back to a full day of work. I thought wrong. I lasted the entire day, thinking my little headache would go away as the day progressed. It didn’t. Not even when I took my daily allotment of Aleve before noon. It kept getting worse, making me wish I could pull off wearing sunglasses inside. When the day was finally over, I called my mom, burst into tears, and drove directly to my parents house where my mom tucked me into bed like when I was a little girl. I took the rest of the week off and set up an appointment with a concussion specialist. Together we developed a plan for return to work at a gradual pace, starting with 5 hours per day and working my way back to full time as tolerated.  As of this week, I am almost there!! I was essentially away from work for 3 weeks total and dropped all other extracurricular activities as I tried to let my brain injury heal.

        

 January 3, 2013, in my prayer journal I asked God for rest. I asked that he would show me how to sit and be still in his presence. I had so many activities going on, good things that I enjoyed doing, that almost every night of the week was scheduled. Most unscheduled time went to watching TV so I could veg and try to relax in preparation for the next day that was sure to be crazy. I was trying to be superwoman. I kept comparing myself to the women around me, thinking that I should be able to keep up the same pace or even a busier one since I don’t have a husband or kids to take care of. There were so many things to juggle I didn’t know how to relax, worrying that everything would come crashing down around me if I stopped for even a moment. It was pride and insecurity and an unspoken belief that the world would stop turning if I weren’t there to save it. So God gave me a time out. He showed me how to rest. I went kicking and screaming and crying at first (concussions make you very emotional) but with patience and compassion he gently called me into his presence. Maybe he gave me the concussion or maybe he just allowed it to happen, making the most of an opportunity to get my attention. Either way, I’m grateful for the experience. Everything I could do, reading, writing, watching TV, working out, working, spending extended amounts of time in well-lit areas, was stripped away. I had to learn how be. He taught me how to be still, how to be in his presence, how to be me without doing. I was carrying all the burdens superwoman should be able to handle and getting choked by a cape that didn’t fit. God taught me how to surrender those burdens to Christ, lay them at his feet, and be fit for a yoke that was light and designed just for me. He loved me enough to carve out time so that he could remind me of who I am to him. I am his daughter, his crowned princess, his beloved. Psalm 103:4 says He redeemed my life from the pit and crowned me with steadfast love and mercy. 

           

I’m still learning, still healing, and slowly but surely beginning to venture back into the land of doing things again. But I am learning to do things with a renewed spirit, and a sense of peace that only comes from being in his presence first, drawing my worth from him instead of all those activities. I am not superwoman but I do know the creator of the universe who claims me as his own, giving me a crown of life. I’ll take that crown over a superwoman cape any day. Beside, the matching tights just aren’t really my style.

           

            

A Small Slice of Humble Pie

Have you ever asked God for something that you weren’t really sure you wanted, but knew it was something you needed? Did God give you an answer that completely blew away your expectations and made you wonder why you ever doubted? This has been my experience over the past month. It all began one snowy Sunday night when our women’s small group was cancelled due to weather and my roommate and I decided to stay in and watch the church service on-line. Our apartment was already clean and we had set aside time for small group, so we spent the hour and a half before church started reading the Bible and journaling, spending some quiet time with God. It was during this time that I decided to ask God for something I’ve wanted to ask for but have been avoiding because I was afraid. You see, I have an issue with pride and I know that God desires humility, but I also know that humility is not something that just happens, it’s a process, a work of transformation. It was this process that I was afraid of. Could I really handle the pain and turmoil of the process? So that’s where I started. I told God I was afraid to ask for humility but I know it’s something that I needed, could he show me how not to be afraid? And so the journey began.

            

The sermon series for the month of December was about drawing inspiration from quotes of the Christmas story. The key verses were familiar, as I’ve read and reread them every Christmas. But this year, I saw the story in a whole new light. The sermon on that snowy night was based on Luke 1:30 “Do not be afraid…” When the titled flashed across the screen, I literally laughed out loud, flipped open my journal, and read part of my latest entry to my roommate cause she looked confused at my laughter. I knew then, it was time to surrender and allow God to transform my prideful heart into one of humility, no matter how it came to be.

            

As much as I love snow, the next day I discovered what a headache it can be during my commute to and from work. My drive time doubled, the streets of St Paul were covered with ice making the trek up the hill to my parking ramp impossible. I was one of those people stuck at an intersection, my wheels spinning, crying because I could see the ramp and see my work but I could only reverse and slide further down the hill, away from where I wanted to go. I eventually made it to work half an hour late despite leaving early. This was the trend the entire week, long drives to and from work with slippery roads and crazy drivers who forgot what its like to drive in the snow. That week I was met with patient after patient who just weren’t getting better despite all my best efforts. Intellectually, I know that it’s normal for kid’s progress to ebb and flow and that I can’t always fix everything, but that week, the ebb seemed to outweigh the flow and I could only see my inadequacy as a therapist. It was also this week that I went to go visit a friend whose child was in the NICU. I was excited to meet their newest bundle of joy and see my friends, but felt helpless to know what to say or do. The doctors gave them a bleak prognosis for what his life would look like if/when he left the hospital and I was at a loss as to how be there for them during this difficult time.

           

I started to regret my decision to surrender and allow God to transform my prideful heart. I was exhausted and could only focus on how small and out of control I was, I lost sight of the bigger picture. The next sermon was entitled, “I am the Lord’s servant…” It was about Mary’s response to God’s decision to make her the mother of his Son. Mary is revered by many people of faith throughout the world, but I’d never personally given her much thought except as a character in the Christmas story. This sermon helped me to see her as a true model of humility. She couldn’t see the whole picture, but she trusted God and His promises anyway. The entire week I was focusing on my shortcomings and inadequacy as a human, the things that were out of my control. This only lead to insecurity and doubt in the person God created me to be. I forgot that the most important thing about humility is that it isn’t about me at all, it’s about God.

            

Humility is surrendering control to God because of who He is, trusting that He can see the big picture, and that He will hold true to His promises. Humility isn’t about examining your shortcomings, it’s about turning your eyes to the creator of the universe and discovering the freedom of surrender. I learned that by keeping my eyes on Christ, circumstances don’t necessarily change, but I see those circumstances I once found overwhelming as opportunities to see God at work. I will always have patients that don’t get better or have friends going through difficult times. There will always be circumstances that are out of my control, problems I want to fix but can’t. Humility grants me the opportunity to allow God to work in and through me during difficult times and to experience the blessing of seeing Him as He is.

          

So now that I’ve mastered humility and become the most humble person you’ll ever meet (ok so maybe I’m still a work in progress), I’m excited to see what blessings God has in store for the New Year. I hope you had a blessed holiday and were able to spend time reflecting on what God taught you in 2012, the good, the bad, and everything in between.

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." ~1 Peter 5:6 

No Problem Mon

I was blessed with the opportunity to return to Jamaica the week before Thanksgiving. The purpose of the trip was similar to the one I took in May, but this time the team was bigger and we were hoping to perform at least a couple of the surgeries we were unable to perform last time (well the surgeons performed them, not me).  The trip was also different in while it was planned further in advance, up until the day before the trip, I wasn’t sure if I was really supposed to go. With the trip in May, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God orchestrated it so I could go. But this trip was different. Originally, I said no because I was already taking vacation in October and didn’t know if I had enough PTO to take off again in November. Around September, I received a call saying that they still didn’t have any physical therapists to go and is there any way I could make it work? I said I’d look into it. I knew it was something I should pray about, but somehow I never got around to it. I looked at my available PTO, did a little math, and discovered that I’d have enough to go on the trip, so I said yes. I told everyone in my small group at church that I’d be going back again, I told all my friends about this great trip I’d be taking, and told all my patients and their families the week before I left that I was going down to Jamaica to do medical outreach. I told everyone how excited I was, but even up until the morning of our departure, something didn’t feel right.  I tried not to let me anxiety and stress show, so I did my best to suppress it and put on a smile.

            

The night before and the day of our departure was an adventure in itself. I received a phone call Saturday night explaining that our 6:15am flight was cancelled and the next available flight wouldn’t get us to Miami in time to make our connection to Kingston. The trip organizer was on the phone with the airline for an hour trying to figure out how to get us somewhere on the island in time for the surgeries that were scheduled Monday morning. Around 11pm, we were told to meet at the airport at 6:00am to take a flight to Atlanta to make a connection for Montego Bay. Nine out of the ten team members got the message, but no one could get a hold of team member #10. We arrived in Montego Bay by early afternoon but got held up in customs because the paperwork to bring in the necessary drugs and medical equipment was ready for us in Kingston, not Montego Bay. Once we were given clearance for the supplies, we took a 3-hour van ride through fern gully, a winding road that took us through the heart of the island. It was probably very beautiful during the day, but was a little scary at night. At one point I woke up from a cat nap thinking I was still on the airplane. It felt like we were just coming in to land, but when I opened my eyes, we were actually just stopping at a red light. We arrived in Kingston around 9pm, just in time for ice cream before heading to the hotel. My roommate and I were able to settle into bed around 11pm and minutes after turning off the lights, heard someone trying to get into our room. Through the peephole, I saw team member #10 had arrived safely after an equally adventurous travel day of her own.

           

On the trip down to Jamaica, our team was scattered throughout the plane, so I had the opportunity to spend a little quiet time with God. I was honest and brought to Him my uneasy feeling surrounding the trip. As I reflected on some things we discussed in my women’s Bible study and my thoughts and actions in the week preceding the trip, God revealed how prideful I’d been. I’d been telling everyone about the trip so they would think I was a great person doing great things. I left God out of it, the giver of great things. I left Him out of the decision making process, out of the preparation process, out of the motivation for the trip, and my faith in His provision for the trip faltered. I endured undue stress and anxiety because I tried to do things on my own, hoping that I would be glorified through the work I was doing. During my quiet time that morning, I was able to repent of my pride and experience the peace and freedom only God can provide. I was also able to pray for each of the team members and the kids we were about to meet, inviting God to bless the work we were about to do. And I allowed God to work through me, remembering each day, that this trip, this work is not about me. I am merely a conduit of God’s love to those who are orphaned, hurting, sick or lost. He has given me unique gifts to bring His message of love and hope to those who need it most, but if I focus on how great those gifts are, I lose sight of the Giver and the incredible blessings that He gives through those gifts. 

            

I’ve often marveled at my ability to struggle with pride and insecurity all at the same time because to me they seem like opposite problems. But what I’m learning is that both stem from a me-centered perspective. God calls us to live with a different perspective. Have you ever seen the acronym JOY? Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. You start by praising and glorifying Christ for what He accomplished on the cross. Then, He equips you to see others how He sees them and challenges you to love them like He does.  Then you experience blessings beyond what you could ever imagine. Our knee-jerk reaction is to take care of ourselves first, be independent, and self-sufficient. But we weren’t created to work that way. We were created to be dependent on one another. The blessings come from the relationships and the give-and-take we share with those around us. Had I continued to focus on the good work I was doing, I would have missed the good work my team was doing and the blessing of seeing each individual use the talent God has given them to improve the quality of a child’s life. I would have missed the smile and laughter each child offered as a gift to focus instead on the problems they had that I thought could fix. I would have continued to worry that I was going to do something wrong and second guess every decision I made, missing out on the peace and freedom God offered to enjoy the work that I was doing.

            

The trip turned out to be an amazing experience despite our adventurous start. The kids were worked with were adorable, the families we worked with displayed so much gratitude toward us, and I came back enriched by the new friends I had made. At the end of the trip, we had the opportunity to soak up some of the beauty of the island by making our way up the mountain to where coffee is grown. The reward for our hike up to the lookout point was the type of breathtaking that can’t fully be captured through pictures. It’s amazing what a little change in perspective will do for appreciating the places God takes you in life.

            

The Eye of the Beholder

One of my favorite movies growing up was Annie. My friends and I loved to play orphans dressed in rags and forced to do labor intensive chores. Whoever could come up with the most pathetic, down trodden story won (at least that’s what my competitive 8 y/o mind thought.) The game would always end with our adoption and a transformation from rags to riches. My mom saved some of her junior high and high school dance dresses, old high heels, and our dance and Halloween costumes. I loved to rifle through the dress-up bin to put together a new outfit, complete with jewelry and make-up, so I could make the transformation to beautiful complete.

            

Feeling beautiful is not something that happens often for me. I’ve never felt that my outward appearance has been one of my strengths. I’ve gotten compliments on my appearance, but I accepted those compliments as circumstantial rather than a reflection of who I was. My skin has never been perfect and breakouts are not something I’ve grown out of like I thought. My nose has been broken 3 times and more prominent than I would sometimes like. Then there are body issues that stem from years of comparing myself to other, more toned athletes that I competed with and against throughout my soccer career. No matter how fit I was, there were always flaws I was sure everyone else focused on just as much as I did. These insecurities were never something I wanted to talk about because I didn’t want people to think I was fishing for compliments or shallow for focusing on my outward appearance. Most days, I kept silent and tried to focus on the other things I had going for me. The problem was that those unspoken insecurities transformed into lies I started to contemplate. Then I was then afraid to talk about the lies because what if they were actually true? The lies were particularly potent when I was most vulnerable during my college years. They included things like: nobody wants to be friends with you because of the way you look; you’ll never get playing time if you aren’t shaped like that person; and how do you expect to get a boyfriend with skin like that? I pretended to myself and to God that I wasn’t affected by these lies, I was secure enough in other areas of my life that what I looked like didn’t matter to me.

            

I did my best to ignore the lies, pushing them beneath the surface instead of actually dealing with them. This technique worked for a little while after I graduated college and once I had success in other areas of my life. I was able to focus on those lies less, but they’ve always been teeming below the surface.  Recently, God has been encouraging me to examine those lies and face them head on, seeing them for what they truly are, and eliminating them in exchange for the truth.

            

Lie detection device number one was a song that came on the radio. I have anywhere from a 30-60 minute commute each day depending on traffic so I have a lot of time to think about random things, pray or sing along to the radio. On one day in particular, a lie had crept its way up to the forefront of my random thoughts. As I was getting ready to ignore it like I usually do the song playing on the radio piqued my attention.

           

            “There could never be a more beautiful you.

            Don’t buy the lies, disguises and hoops they make you jump through.

            You were made to fill a purpose, that only you can do,

            So there can never be a more beautiful you.”

           

It was a great song written by Johnny Diaz, and if you’ve never heard it I recommend looking it up: More Beautiful You. The song was the first echo God laid on my heart to initiate a thought transformation. The second lie detector came through the same radio station on a day similar to the one described above. A woman was talking about how our physical “imperfections” are what make us relatable to each other. We all see them as the things we would most want to change, but God sees them as a beautiful way to make us approachable to the people around us who don’t know about his love. If we were the picture of perfection, we would likely be too intimidating and miss out on relationships and opportunities to show others love. He changed my perspective of my physical imperfections and showed me that I was intentionally created with them for His glory.

            

The last lie God encouraged me to let go of didn’t happen the way I thought it would. As a single woman of 27 I’ve always considered myself a pretty good catch for any Christian man (I really hope that doesn’t sound conceited.) I do my best to seek after Christ in everything I do, I have wide variety of interests, I enjoy watching and playing sports, I’m a good listener, and I try to put other’s needs above my own. With all of these things going for me, I had a hard time understanding why I’ve been single for so long. The lie that I tried to ignore most but was probably most afraid of was that it was because I was physically unattractive. I expected God to squash this lie by bringing the man of my dreams into the picture so he could tell me everyday how beautiful I am and we would live happily ever after. God chose a different way. I’ve been reading a book by Margaret Feinberg called The Sacred Echo. She writes about how God doesn’t just tell us something once and we are done, we either learn the lesson or we don’t, but instead He echoes important lessons over and over until it begins to sink in. One echo God has continually laid on my heart whenever we discuss the romance part of my life is wait. Should I pursue this person even if he doesn’t appear interested? God echoes wait. Should I give on-line dating a try? God echoes wait. Should I go to this speed-dating event to try and put myself out there? God echoes wait. The echo takes a variety of forms from Bible verses to fictional stories to conversations with close friends. Sometimes I am patient and graciously accept the answer and sometimes I get frustrated and cry or yell at God for such a silly answer. There is a chapter in this book entitled How Long? It talks about waiting and how we (the human race) are all waiting for something: graduation, marriage, a job, a house, retirement, etc. But we aren’t the only ones. God and all of creation are also waiting for the world to be reconciled to Him. The book puts it so much more eloquently than I just did and the message I gleaned helped to change my perspective on waiting in my dating life. I learned that He is trying to teach me how to wait expectantly because it will make what I am waiting for that much better while at the same time increasing my trust and faith in Him.

            

Once the lies were exposed, examined, and transformed to truth, God allowed me to see myself as He sees me. I am made to fill a purpose that only I can fulfill, my imperfections show his strength and love to those around me, and I am waiting not because I am unattractive, but because He wants to draw me into closer relationship with Himself. I feel so blessed to know that God cared enough about me to clear up the lies I thought I had under control so the truth could set me free. I am no longer an orphan in ugly rags, but a daughter of the King, clothed in beauty and grace.

            

Nanny for Hire: A Love Story

I spent the majority of my Labor Day weekend, not at my cabin or enjoying the outdoors as originally planned, but splitting time between my bed and the couch watching movies, reading books, and eating ice cream. My nurse/designated ice cream scooper/lovely sister was able to join me for part of the weekend watching said movies, scooping said ice cream and bringing me whatever I needed while maintaining a safe distance. I was very happy for her company. In between the sleeping, lounging, and eating ice cream, and while my sister had other plans, I had some time to reflect on different events of my life and felt compelled to share with you all part of the story about life the year after I graduated college.

           

The story actually starts a few months before graduation. I was stressed and taking way too many credits than what was healthy for a person who should simply be enjoying the last semester of college life. On top of that, I had no idea what I was going to do once the semester was over. I knew that somewhere down the line, I was going to go to physical therapy school, but had decided earlier that year, it was not going to be right away. There was also the dilemma of where to do the what I was going to do after graduation. Do I stay in Nashville or go back home to the Twin Cities or try some new part of the country or travel the world? I had a feeling that if I left Nashville at that time, I wouldn’t likely return for grad school and part of me wasn’t ready to give up on the city yet. College hadn’t been exactly what I anticipated, but I knew that the city itself had more to offer.

            

Naturally, I prayed for direction and guidance for God to direct my next steps. Turns out He was going to answer my prayers right around Spring Break. I went on a road trip through Florida with one of my friends who told me about an opportunity to work as a nanny for a family in the Nashville area. I’ve always loved kids and have worked with a wide variety of ages and personalities so I felt this job was right up my alley. During the next couple weeks, I interviewed with the family, met their 4 boys, and we began discussing start dates and availability. At the final interview, the family said they would call to finalize the details later in the week. By the time, the weekend rolled around and I still hadn’t heard from them, I started to get concerned. I tried calling but it always went to voicemail. Finally, I received a return call but it wasn’t exactly the call I expected. Turns out, there was a miscommunication between the husband and wife and one of them had already offered the job to someone else. I was so confused because I clearly felt that this was what God wanted me to be a nanny during my time off from school. Naturally, I went into panic mode. It was now weeks after spring break and I had no idea what I was going to do after graduation. I liked the idea of being a nanny so I decided to put my resume on a random nanny website and said I was willing to go anywhere in the country. I spent a whole day perfecting my profile and searching through potential families, wondering if anyone would contact me. My room was a flurry of suitcases left half unpacked from a weekend trip, papers scattered everywhere as I tried to think of more things to add to the profile, and textbooks accumulating dust as I neglected whatever homework was due that Monday. I’m sure my roommates thought I was having a nervous break down.

            

At this point in the story, looking back at what I know now, I picture God shaking His head, smiling, and thinking, “Just wait little girl, at least give me a day to show you what great things I have planned for you.”  You see the next day, I received a phone call from a friend of the family I’d interviewed with. She was also looking for a nanny for her 2 daughters and lived in the Nashville area. And had I found a position yet? We set up an interview at Starbucks and a second interview at their home where I got to meet her husband and the girls. Instantly, I knew this was where God wanted me to spend my year off of school.

           

What a year it was. I spent my days making cooking videos, reality TV shows, dressing up in costumes, and doing silly dances around their beautiful home. The girls were wonderful, smart, fun, and funny, always keeping me on my toes. We enjoyed mornings at the pool in the summer and games of tennis in the afternoon once school started. Of all the fun activities we did during the day, I think my favorite time was getting ready for nap or bedtime. We would snuggle under the covers to read a story, say bedtime prayers, and sing lullaby songs. I had the privilege of traveling with them a couple different times, seeing all the places that were special to their family for one reason or another. There was a difference in age between the girls, but it never appeared to be a problem. The oldest was just as willing to be silly and play make-believe games with her younger sister as the youngest was to watch movies or play board games with her older sister. During my time with them, I always felt more like part of the family than the hired help. They shared so much love and joy as a family that it overflowed to everyone they met. God knew exactly what I needed during my time away from school.

           

I learned a lot about God’s unconditional love for us during the time I spent with these girls. About how He chose us and has adopted us as His own. During that year He placed a seed in my heart that I know will grow one day grow regarding adoption.  It wasn’t that these girls were adopted or that I felt like I was their mother, because they already had a wonderful mom. Instead I learned how to love a child that God placed in my care that wasn’t my own. I learned that I would do anything to show them that love and protection on the days they were driving me nuts just as much as the days they were perfect angels.  I learned that God was preparing me to one day love that way again.

            

Even though I don’t see the girls as often as I’d like, I still love them and pray for them often. God knew I needed that family the year after graduation to build up some of the insecurities I’d accumulated throughout my college career. They were my away from home family. They in no way replaced the family I know and love here in Minnesota, but God showed me that love isn’t something that is finite and has to be divided when we start to love more people. Instead, love multiplies with each person God places in our lives. We shouldn’t be afraid that if we start to let more people experience our love it will detract from the love we are able to give to those already experiencing it. God is love and He will overflow to who ever He places in our lives, as long as we step out in faith and allow ourselves to love, whoever it may be: an orphan down the street or halfway around the world, a difficult friend or fun loving co-worker, a sister who will give up her weekend to spend time with you or one who forgets your birthday, someone special you're too afraid let in on the secret or one who should know but may just need a reminder. Whoever it is, there's no time like the present to let your love multiply!

           

I’ll leave you with one of God’s descriptions of love so you know what it looks like:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always perseveres. Love never fails.” ~1 Corinthians 13:4-8a (NIV)

Have a blessed day (or month with how frequently I've been posting, sorry friends!)

Perfect Imperfections

I am what some may describe as a perfectionist. I may not be the type of perfectionist that is super organized or has my room clean all the time (or ever) but when it comes to setting and achieving goals or expecting the best out of myself at all times, I fit the perfectionist profile. I’m a list person. I make a list of things that need to be done then check them off after they’ve been completed. (Sometimes I add things to my list that I’ve already completed, just so I can check them off.) I like structure and order, rules and clearly defined expectations so I know what to do and when it’s been completed correctly. Don’t get me wrong, I can go with the flow and be flexible (let’s be honest, most people don’t survive Africa without at least a little flexibility) but I am most comfortable when I feel I am in control. I don’t mean to say that I am delusional enough to think that I can control the people around me, the circumstances of life, or things like the weather, but sometimes I am delusional enough to think that if I feel in control of a situation, then I can make it turn out just the way I want it. God has been working for many years to break me of my delusion with slow but steady progress. It’s one of the non-checked items on my to-do list.

            

The second attribute that many may ascribe to me is I am optimistic. Some may even say that I am an ultra-optimist. Not only is the glass half-full but it also probably contains the best water you’ve ever tasted in your life or better yet a milk chocolate mocha! I was one of those people who got weights thrown at my head during 6am strength and conditioning for soccer because I was so chipper and sure that it was going to be a great workout session, a sentiment not shared by my fellow teammates.  I’ve been wired to see the bright side of things, which at times has served me very well.

           

Putting these two attributes together you could describe me as an overly optimistic perfectionist. My ultra optimism at times plays into my delusion that I can complete things perfectly. When I was younger, particularly high school and college, I thought that I could live a perfect example of Christ for the people around me. I set high expectations for my self and was driven by my optimistic outlook that I may actually be able to make all the right decisions so that Christ would be glorified. My intentions were pure and the result was everyone thought I was a really nice person. Now this may come as a shock for some of you, but I am actually not perfect. Of course I made poor decisions and thought things that were wrong, did things that were wrong, and felt things that were wrong. I misunderstood people’s intentions and was hurt and angry and bitter and confused and sad and at times felt very much out of control. But instead of expressing those feelings and confess my wrong actions, I tried to hide them and only let people see the good in me. Everyone knew I was a Christian, so if they saw the bad in me, how would that reflect on what they thought about Christ? I was afraid my imperfections would reflect poorly on my savior. Whenever I made bad decisions or had negative feelings towards someone or something, I did my best not allow them to show, fooling a lot of my friends and myself, that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

            

Throughout college and the years that followed, God began to show me the error of my ways and through various circumstances helped me willingly surrender my control to where it rightfully belongs, in His capable Hands. This summer, our small group from church has been going through Louie Giglio’s Passion conference video series. For those of you who haven’t seen or heard of it, I highly encourage you to check it out. This Monday, we watched part 2 of his Hope series, when life hurts the most. This video talked about using our suffering as a megaphone for Christ. Something that struck me during his talk was when he said it was OK to wish that things could have been done differently or wish that we didn’t have to go through the suffering we experience. Looking back at events in my life that caused suffering, I always tried to spin them to the positive or pretend like everything was alright, sometimes lying to my friends, lying to myself, and lying to God. I know that God used my suffering for something good, to help me develop perseverance or to know how to relate to someone going through similar circumstances, but that doesn’t mean that the event that caused my suffering was good.  Part of what it means to be human is to experience a wide variety of thoughts and emotions, even Christ went through periods of anger and sadness, joy and elation, grief and mourning through different events of His human life. It is ok for me to acknowledge my struggles and weaknesses to those around me. We live in a fallen world where not everything turns out exactly as we plan. It’s ok to acknowledge our pain and suffering and the emotions that go along with it. At the same time, we must cling to the hope that is found in Christ. While his human side struggled with the emotions and uncertainties we encounter ever day, being God he was able to conquer pain and suffering through his death on the cross. In our suffering, we must be real and allow our weakness, not necessarily our strength to glorify what Jesus did on that day.

           

Monday night after we watched the video and everyone went home, my brother received a phone call from a friend in another Bible study he’s involved in at church. That Derek, one of his friends in the group, had passed away at 23 years old. He was out running and collapsed, no one really knows the cause of death. If I’m going to be real and honest, I didn’t know him well, but I am still sad and confused. I don’t know why he lived only 23 years and I’ve already gotten to live 27. I don’t know why God chose now to take him away. From conversations I had with him and the stories my brother and his other friends have told me about him I know that he is home and having a way better time than we are, which is the hope that I’ve been clinging to this week. He will be missed by everyone who knew him and everyone who was encouraged by his contagious smile that welcomed you in the doors at church every Sunday night.

            

I think I’ll always have perfectionistic tendencies and an optimistic outlook on life, it’s part of who God created me to be. But that doesn’t mean I will try to hide my imperfections or negative experiences as readily anymore. God is strongest when I am weakest, making my imperfections the perfect opportunity to trust and glorify Him for all that He did on the cross and all He continues to do in our lives.

“But he (Jesus) said to me (Paul), ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ …That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

~2 Corinthians 12:9a, 10

Be blessed by your imperfections. When you are weak, then He is strong! Have a wonderful week!

Up North

I had the amazing opportunity to spend an extended weekend with my family and friends up at our cabin in little Hackensack, MN. It's one of my favorite places to hang out with fun people, relax, and enjoy the beauty of God's creation. My experience was just the blessing from God I needed after a busy start to summer. Here are a few photos from my visit so you can share in the blessing.

My brother and roommate/brother's girlfriend posing as Paul Bunyan and his sweetheart during my roomie's first visit to the fun little town of Hackensack. I know what you're thinking and no it's not weird that my roommate and brother are dating. I think its wonderful.

Posing with a life size version of Lucette, Paul Bunyan's sweetheart in town.

My aunt enjoying a favorite cabin pastime, reading a good book outside in the beauty of God's creation.

My sister reading one of our favorite books next to the fire.

The hammock is one of my favorite places to  hang out, especially when there is a fire going and I've got a great book to enjoy.

No experience up north would be complete without eating our fill of the ooey, gooey, chocolately goodness of s'mores fresh from the fire.

We are lucky to have a cabin that faces west and allows us to experience the sunset each night. Every sunset is a little bit different but I'm glad for digital technology because I think I'd go broke trying to print off all the pictures I take of this scene every summer.

This sunset was a different night than the previous picture, but I love the vibrant orange and red.

My parents enjoying the sunset from the best seat in the house.  They have been a great example of love and commitment, leaving a legacy of faith and prayer to everyone they meet.

One last picture of the sunset from our dock out in the water.

The long weekend was the perfect way to relax, rejuvenate, and experience the everyday blessings of God's handiwork. Since I've returned from my respite up north, God has continued to teach and provided stories to share about his love and faithfulness so stay tuned for future posts. In the mean time, enjoy the beauty and majesty of God's glorious creation all around you.  Be blessed my friends!