It's Everywhere: Love

Love. It's all around me. People are talking about it, falling into it, stepping on it, and talking about it like it's the latest phenomenon since... Twitter.

Before you think that I am some sort of bitter, cynical, recently burned young professional who graduated without an engagement ring (an uncommon occurrence at my Alma Mater), I'm not. I'm just saying it seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life right now. And I'm OK with that.

I love "love" actually. I'm a HUGE fan. I'm fairly confident that if you met me in person and we could sit down and catch up over a cup of coffee, you would come to the conclusion that I was the biggest, sappiest most hopeless romantic you had ever met. And I would take it as a compliment.

So the fact that the subject of love has been somewhat saturating and all encompassing doesn't bother me in the slightest. It actually inspires all sorts of new thoughts, ideas, dreams, and truths that bring an extraordinary amount of joy and freedom.

Here's an example: I saw a romantic comedy this evening and, for all intents and purposes, it was the same as every other romantic comedy. I think most men would agree with me when I say that they are all the same: predictable, really cheesy, and completely unrealistic.

Whatever. I still like them.

In this particular movie, the main characters were in no way, shape, or form attracted to one another in the beginning. They loathed each other as a matter of fact. Long story short, the more time they spent together and began to see the root of why personality quirks and character flaws were what they were, an intense understanding, empathy and bonding formed. And of course, they fell in love and when unavoidable circumstances took the girl away from they guy, he did everything to find her, declare his love and sweep her off her feet.

Same song, second verse.

For whatever reason though, I discovered something new about myself that I was surprised by. I think that, in the middle of watching this ridiculous film, I came up with something I want to be able to say about/to the man that I marry... someday.

"I would rather be driven crazy because of you then be sane without you."

Ok, now for a bigger revelation that I feel like the Lord opened the eyes of my heart to see recently.

I'm willing to bet the most famous love story would be that of Romeo and Juliet. Written and rewritten countless times and in countless variations throughout generations. It is the one story that seems to be the foundation for most movie and novel plots if you really think about it. If ever there are two characters in love, there always seems to be an outside force trying to keep them apart.

Give it up to William Shakespear for leaving his mark on world literature. Romeo and Juliet is unparalleled. Love has never been made to feel more real or more jaded. What woman, or person for that matter, can read it and not be able to identify with a character? Who has never been at odds with their family? Who has never yearned and longed for such an unbridled, pure and passionate love? Call me crazy, but is there not something in every heart, every soul, that knows that there is a love, a relationship, and a communion with another soul that they were meant to partake in? Is there not something about the selfless and reckless abandon to love someone more than yourself that is so innately intoxicating it can not be stifled, despite our efforts?

I dare say there is.

In a moment of daydreaming, it dawned on me: I'm Juliet.

And my Romeo is God Himself.

From a different family; another world that collided with mine when he abdicated His throne for me. Ignoring the questions and silencing the lies, he has pursued me. He has sought me out among the scoffers, the pious religious elect, and those who's bloodlines would be far more worthy and right for such a calling; for such a union.

He saw me and loved me in that moment; at first sight. His untamed love and fervent pursuit of me has filled in me something I did not know was empty, thus creating a longing and desire only for that which He offers. Nothing else is needed nor is anything else desired. What He has freely and graciously showed me and bestowed upon me is unlike anything I have seen, felt, heard, or experienced in my years here; in a broken and despairing world where love has no standard of measure. It is simply an accessory.

But where there is such romance, there is war. War for my time, attention, affection, and life. The Enemy is at odds against me. He is jealous over me not because he loves me, but because he hates Romeo. And what Romeo seeks to save, the Enemy would seek to destroy.

I am unable to save myself. I am not strong enough or equipped to fend off the onslaught of lies that would tell me all the reasons that Romeo and I can not be. I have a hard time believing it myself some days. So the constant reminders of my downfalls, shortcomings, and lack of breeding takes it toll and I grow tired of trying to fight back.

It's really not even my battle.

But Romeo: the embodiment of strength, truth, love, and salvation, layed down his life in order to ransom mine. What I could not do, He did... for love. For a burning love of me.

And where the story would end in our realm, continues in His. Defeating death, conquering the grave, and overcoming those things that would keep me from him, I have now run away with him.

I escaped the lies; I was rescued from death. I was delivered from a loveless life.

I was saved.

And now, that love which first so captivated me and drew me in has flooded me completely and is teaching me, allowing me, to love the same way; to be fully alive. I never knew I wasn't living, I didn't know I had not experienced love and life until Him. Until Romeo redeemed me from the dark.

What your professors will never tell you is that Shakespear was the first to plagiarize.

Unbelievable

This is an incredible fist hand account of the life that poverty dictates.
Read it.
Help us stop it.http://morgan-givetolive.blogspot.com/

Writer's Block

I've had "writer's block" lately. Well obviously; I haven't written anything in a month. It seems to come in waves. I have a month of seeming intense inspiration and realization and then a month (or more) of what would seem to be no thought at all.

Ok, slight exageration.

I have thoughts. A lot actually. Lately, they just seem short and obscure, or sometimes so simple that to admit that I have only now just come to understand them would be embarrassing. And yet, not getting them "out"or processing them outside of my own head drives me crazy. So instead of writing, I have been talking to almost anyone who will listen to everything that I am thinking about. And I am exhausted.

And this week I realized why.

For starters, the most obvious reason for my exhaustion and resulting "writer's block" is that I have simply over-talked, over-thought, and over-analyzed every situation, circumstance, conversation, glance, and all other forms of verbal or physical communication. And I'm really good at it. I can break down just about anything. I disect nearly everything, trying to find the root, the purpose, the metaphor, the allusion, the meaning, the spiritual context of any encounter with a friend or a stragner, a thought that popped up out of nowhere, or emotional reaction that is uncharacteristic.

To be in a constant state of analysis and observation, from the inside out is neither productive, beneficial, or I dare say healthy. I don't think I am a mental case, though some may argue, but I do think that I need to learn to let go, relax, and just "roll with it." Why that is so against my natural state is beyond me because my parents and my brother are all this way. They are all strangers to worry, stress, or over exageration of thought, so it seems not to be genetic... it's just me. Thus, I am often a source of comic relief to them. We all have our roles I guess.

This week brought some much needed enlightenment though. During my quiet time one morning, I read out of Streams in the Desert, a personal favorite.

I implore you not to give into despair. I tis a dangerous temptation,
because our Advesary has refined it to the point that it is quite subtle.
Hopelessness constricts and withers the heart, rendering it unable to sense
God's blessings and grace. It also causes you to exagerate the adversitites of
life and make your burdens seem to heavy for you to bear. Yet God's plans for
you, and His ways of bringing about His plans, are infinitely
wise.

The italized part is what hit home for me. The more I talked about life in general, everydays happenings, questions, etc. the bigger they became, the more insurmountable they appeared to be, and the more out of control my life felt. And, to a certain degree, I did begin to despair. Because in my mind I felt like a failure. I couldn't answer every question. I expecially could not answer every question with a really deep and spiritually proufound Christian answer. I simply shrugged my shoulders. Then, suprisingly, my despair turned into a desperation for direction, truth, and wisdom that would pull me out of this apparent slump, this foreign land of "Uhh, I don't know."

"When will I have it all figured out? How much longer until I know everything so that I won't have to worry about not knowing anyting?"

To be desperate for the Lord is good, yes. But my desperation wasn't one of healthy hunger. It was a desperate plea for salvation and deliverance from what I have now discovered is simply the faith journey. And what I couldn't see then was and is the beauty of the mystery of a really really big God. The instrinsic and almost romantic way that the Lord keeps things hidden, covered, and tanalizing so that we continue after Him, yearn for Him, and wait on Him to do what He does best: be God. Be sovereign, be perfect, and most importantly be endlessly overflowing with grace and patience.

I called my dad in the midst of my inner turmoil. To know my dad is to know more about the Lord; to hear wisdom and to see sanctification. I always call him on matters of the spirit. His response didn't take effect until a few days later when I sat still long enough to ponder it as opposed to continuing the spiritual running/striving that had been wearing me out. He, in a simple yet eloquent way, reminded me that God is infinitely patient and infinitely merciful. There is nothing that we can do to earn His love or be granted His forgiveness. It just is. It is lavished upon us and to not accept it ( the way I discovered I wasn't) opens wide the door for the enemy and his firey arrows. To essentially say "Hey God, thanks for the offer, but it's just too easy, I'm gonna go ahead and decline and then try to make up for it on my own," is well... real stupid.

Needless to say, I am paying more attention to resting; sitting still and letting Him do what He wants. Because here's the thing: He only wants what is best for us and what is best for us is what will bring glory and honor to Him. It is all about Him, always. What we do, who we are, where we go is always and only about and for the praise and worship of Christ. That is what is best for us because it is for that very thing for which we were created.

What I am finding is it will be a natural outflow of myself, my mind, my spirit, my thoughts, my desires, and my heart if I will simply stop trying to make it happen. In my attempt to produce in my own strenght, I actually negate it. Ooops.

So hands off, Mere. The course has already been set. Open wide your eyes, let go of the reigns and enjoy the ride.

Funky Fresh

The last two weeks of my life have felt more like two months... maybe years if I really want to be dramatic. Yeah. Let's go with years. That last two weeks have pretty much lasted FOREVER.
There we go. Moving on.
"Why has it felt so long?"
Funny you should ask... Reader.
The last two weeks have been somewhat of a spiritual "funk" for me. Not necessarily bad... just not great. Still. Quiet. A little awkward honestly.
For starters, after moving into a new apartment (shout out to the folks for lending a LARGE helping hand) I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I don't know what it is about moving, transition, change, etc. that is so hard on me. I hate it. I hate going from comfortable routine, predictability, and familiarity to ... not those things. I hate quickly and suddenly losing those things because I am forced realize that I crafted a small but very secure identity in those things. To lose them is to lose myself. I don't like starting over from scratch. What then am I left with? I don't like uprooting. To dig another set of roots takes time and well… I’m busy. Perhaps more truthfully, I make myself busy because I inwardly know that where my time, energy and focus goes is not where it should.
Change just doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel natural. It's not fun.
Exhaustion for me typically turns into an “entire being” issue. Here’s what I mean. When I don’t get enough rest physically, I lose my ability to concentrate well. I lose focus easily, which then creates stress because I become overwhelming aware of my “offness” and I am just sure that everyone around me is appalled at my humanity. Then the water-works start. While I may be an emotional person, very rarely do I express it through tears. Some doubt my tear ducts even work. My mother has in fact made the statement (semi-seriously) that she thinks I’m heartless because she hasn’t seen me cry in ….*counting in my head*… a long time.
Needless to say, a few consecutive nights with little sleep typically ends in a meltdown and a blubbering call to Mom asking her to fly me home.
I didn’t quite round all the bases of this routine, but I did make it far enough to compromise my time with the Lord; I did get tired and distracted enough that I let me guard down just long enough to vulnerable.
Enter Beelzebub.
Like clock work, I began to question everything from my performance at work to the solidity of my closest friendships; from my ability to do any job anywhere (because I was sure I would get fired) to ever really knowing where I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to be doing with my life, ever.
Same song, second verse. Been here, gone through this a time or twelve. And yet, it caught me by total surprise and had me completely unraveled. I couldn’t believe I was back here, dealing with, fighting off, and thinking twice about the unoriginal lies that I had heard more times than I’d like to count.
Sunday morning rolled around and I fled to church. I wanted to be nowhere else. I wanted nothing other than sanctuary.
It was the refreshing and renewal I needed. Worship was poignant, saturating my parched spirit; the message was simultaneously comforting and challenging. Then, in the midst of the moment, I felt an urge of holiness. “Lord, please reveal to me my sin; show me what it is that it holding me back from pressing forward into you. Break my heart. Strip me and make it clear what the hindrances are that are blocking my path to you.
Haha… oops.
Sure enough, He heard. Then He answered. Awesome.
Turns out I’m more screwed up then I had anticipated. And instead of immediately being relieved that He answered my prayer so quickly and clearly, I become almost instantly discouraged and horribly flooded with guilt.
“Good night nurse! All of that Lord? All those things? That big, fat, massive, list…? Those are my sins? Those are the things that are setting up road blocks to you? Need I remind you of my delicate emotional state? I was irrational when I asked you to reveal my sin. You should have known that this would be more than I can handle. I mean honestly.”
Instead of divine sympathy, He gave me a verse. Again, not really what I wanted, but given my desperation I looked it up.
2 Corinthians 7:10 “Godly grief brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret…”
Huh. That’s a good one. I feel pretty grieved at the moment… and yeah, turns out I do want to repent. I would like to repent and be reintroduced with fresh eyes to the truth and power of the free gift of your salvation. And while we’re at it, let’s go ahead and leave my large load of guilt by the curb. Yeah, good call God.
As I read and reread the verse, stunned that I really heard from the Lord so directly, I discovered something that caused me to pause.
“Godly grief.” M’what? Sorry, but when is grief a “Godly” attribute. Why would God grieve? You lost me.
Then, in the same way as before, as if He were sitting right in front of me predicting my next question like a chess player predicts his opponents next move, He said “Isaiah 53.”
*flip flip flip*
Isaiah 54:3- “He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief… 4Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…”
Oh yeah. You were fully human once. You were tempted. Probably a little more so than I will ever be, so I take it you know how it feels. You were separated from your Heavenly Father but were still in perfect communion with Him…so yeah, you probably had moments/days that you felt a little off. And then, the big one, you lived as a man in a fallen world. A really imperfect, messy, overwhelmingly sinful world in which you were the only one of your kind; hardly conducive for being able to relate to anyone else. You were alone.
Can’t say that I’ve been there.
And then, the truth of His Word began to sink in; He has walked where I am barely crawling. He has faced and defeated the same lies, deceit, and fears that have clouded my vision. He does know how I feel, what I’m thinking, and just how tumultuous my emotions are. He is Himself an emotional God. How then could we not be emotional? Reactive? Impacted by our circumstances and surroundings.
I loved how an author put it recently. In Genesis we are told that God created man in “His own image.” Basic, 1st grade Sunday school material. Not earth shattering by any stretch of the imagination. But it dawned on me that God’s image is not a mere reflection of His outer appearance. He is a spiritual and emotional being; filled with love, joy, peace, patience, etc. Those attributes and characteristics are hardly tangible things. Rather they are instilled; intrinsically and purposely planted in our souls that we use them for His glory.
My emotional outpourings are reflections of the Lord in and of themselves. When I am hurt, He hurts. In the same way, as a believer, when I see or hear something that mocks my God, I am burdened because it burdens His heart.
What an extraordinary and intimate relationship! What a phenomenal way that He would reveal more of Himself. What an incredibly close way to draw us nearer to Himself, than to allow us the privilege to feel the feelings of His heart.
So I came to the conclusion that, whatever my emotional reaction to the moment, person, etc., it creates an opportunity for me to draw closer to the heart of God. To see Him more clearly, to know Him more dearly, and to follow Him more nearly.
And it might be a little overwhelming, but that only opens the door then for Him to overwhelm me with more of Himself.

I LOVE My Job

So... we've sent Christian music artist and Compassion spokesman Shaun Groves to India with some other well liked bloggers to send us back stories, testimonies and to share their personal experiences of how Compassion is moving and shaking in the lives of our kids there.

Check this out...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbERbDFer1s&feature=player_embedded

Only the Lonely

The word “lonely” has an unavoidably negative connotation. No one wants to be lonely. But the irony is this: you don’t actually have to be by yourself to be lonely. You can be at a packed baseball stadium, a high school prom, or even board meeting and feel utterly alone. On the flip side, you can be by yourself and feel totally at peace, with no desire to be accompanied by even one other person. I think I lead a life that is equally balanced in both scenarios. I don’t know if that is good or bad, I just know that I experience both feelings in a fairly proportionate ratio.

I bring the subject of loneliness up for three reasons: (1) I was really lonely last week, so it’s on my mind, (2) I think that loneliness is a way in which we come to identify with Christ and (3) I think loneliness has been around longer than anyone realizes and thus is not a negative thing, but rather a natural outflow of something divinely instilled.

Why would loneliness be a way in which we come identify with Christ? Doesn’t that imply that God is lonely? Well… yes and no. I don’t think God was lonely and so decided to create us, humans, for fellowship. That would, in fact, imply that He is not wholly and completely perfect, without need, desire, etc. in and of Himself.

I think we come to identify with Christ in our loneliness because when He came to earth, He took on humanity in all its’ depravity and yet maintained His total divinity.

I would imagine that being God and simultaneously being man, would be a lonely state of mind and heart. How do you connect with someone else? How would you manage being in perfect communion with God, while concurrently being completely removed from unity with Him in literal presence? No one could understand. No one could relate, sympathize, or offer consolation. How could they? Doesn’t that illustrate loneliness?

Webster defines loneliness as “destitute of sympathetic or friendly companionship; standing apart; isolated.”

“Destitute of sympathetic or friendly companionship.” Nailed it. Not how the church likes to paint Jesus’ stint on earth, but I think it might encapsulate it perfectly. No one on earth, could really, truly, or literally say that they could share in His sorrow or affliction.

To me, that is the worst feeling.

I hate it when you tell someone about something that you are going through or experiencing and they say “I understand” when they really can’t.

“No you don’t,” I think defensively. “Have you literally walked in my shoes this past week? Have you actually had the same, identical pain in your heart and burden on your spirit that I have carried? Then you don’t understand.” That to me is loneliness. When you are utterly alone in your experience or understanding of a situation or circumstance; when no one has walked beside you through the slush and slime of a distinctly crappy season in your life’s journey.

That’s a lonely place. That’s where I was last week. And that’s where I think we identify with Christ. When no one can honestly say they have “been there, done that.” No one but Jesus. And that is enough. At least, it should be enough to offer us complete consolation. It needs to be enough because I have a feeling there will come a time when that is all the only offering of comfort we may have for a time; Jesus saying “I know.”

Come to find out, I wasn’t alone at all. In totally desperation, I took a step into a sea of vulnerability, told someone exactly what was going on and instead of saying “I understand; I know just how you feel,” she sat there quietly for a moment and recounted her personal testimony of an eerily similar time in her own life.

Did not see that coming. And suddenly the loneliness lifted.

I have been reading Donald Miller’s “Searching for God Knows What” and this subject of loneliness was given its’ own entire chapter. In it, Miller noted that loneliness was not necessarily an outcome, or consequence of the fall. Before sin, man lived in perfect relation with God. And yet (this is my favorite part) “there was no suitable helper for Adam” (Genesis 2:20b). Let’s break it down.

Adam, created perfectly in God and for God, was placed in a perfect setting, daily walking with and communing with God. And what? God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

So even when we are in a right standing relationship with Christ, even when we are walking with Him, talking with Him, even then, we can be discontented, we can feel …without. Adam was lonely. Go figure.

I can’t begin to tell you just how much encouragement and comfort this brought me. I often mistake my feelings of loneliness for a lack of faith; a gap in my walk with the Lord. This then, creates in me a nearly frantic feeling of having (as opposed to wanting) to spend more time with Him in my quiet time. But the catch is that my quiet time is then no longer about Him, but about me, and filling my need for companionship.

So this realization that no matter at what level our relationship with Christ stands, the feeling on spiritual yearning, physical longing, and emotional want for someone is addition to Him… that, that is normative. It’s not a reflection is something we’re not doing right or haven’t done enough of. It’s there now because it was there in the beginning.

My hope is this: the way in which God satisfied Adam’s longing, so He will also satisfy mine.

I only hope He doesn’t make me do something as time consuming as naming all the animals to buy time. My biological clock is ticking.

Epiphany

I had a revelation this morning. Due to a freak blizzard last night, the office was delayed in opening until 10am. I didn't get that information until after I had gotten up at 5:15 and just about walked out the door at 6. I was hoping to get the office early to log in some extra hours that I lost last week when another blizzard had closed our doors.


Going back to bed wasn't an option; I had already downed about four cups of coffee. So I grabbed my computer and went to Panera for some free internet... and more coffee.


As I sat in Panera, with about 20 gentlemen who kept looking at me like I was some sort of alien, I grew increasingly irritated. "All I want to be doing right now is working 'on the clock' and making up for the hours that Mother Nature selfishly stole from me last week. My next pay check is going to be so small. This is rediculous. I have things to do, meetings to go to, emails to return, and reports to edit."


As I sat thinking about how out of control I felt over my life and how it may just being unraveling before my eyes and slipping through my fingers (dramatization is a actually fairly accurate portrayel of my feelings.... which is so sad) I felt God gently whisper, "This is just where I want you."


Pardon?


"You are in fact not in control of your life. I ordain where you go, how you get there, and what you do. What may seem to be unfortunate weather patterns that prevent you from 'clocking in' are in fact my ways of keeping your dependent and focused on me, not your pay check."


*blank stare*


Then it dawned on me; I'm just like my dad. "Daddy" has to hold the remote control, even if he doesn't change the channel. I don't know what it is about having it in his hand that makes the whole experience of watching TV that much better... but it is a non-negotiable. He has to hold it.

I'm just like my dad, only I my "remote control" is my planner, my calender, my time, and my bank account. It was a sobering realization at 6:30 in the morning. I didn't want to think about just how small my faith was and how much I don't act like I trust in His provision when I say that I do.

Just one more thing to work on. One more thing to overcome. One more way in which I realized don't look like Jesus. And all I want to do is look like Jesus.

So I'm frusterated about that. And yet, I feel as if I have reason to rejoice. Because what if I never realized that fault? What if my eyes were never open to those things which are hinderances to the progression of my faith? I would never look like Jesus. I would never become more like Him, the way that He has called me to.

So I'm ok with this restlessness; I'm ok with being unsettled about those things that I need to work on because at the end of the day, I think that's the Spirit stirring up in me what He desires and stifling what it is that I desire.

John 3:30 says that "He must increase and I must decrease."

Easier said than done. I want it anyway.