I think God is sometimes nonsensical

What do you do when your routine of expectations has been interrupted And you have space to see the desires that have lain in wait And you see those desires more clearly and feel them more sharply How do you handle that much freedom, hope, excitement?

Since returning from Austria, that space has been uncomfortable.

I've thought, maybe I'm wrong- maybe those desires are false and it's just a side-effect of a big trip or culture shock. My reaction has been to fill that space quickly – drown it in “reality” through work or commitments or entertainment that remind me that I have a life to live.

I want so desperately to feel life. Not the over-saturated life filled with such busyness that leaves me feeling ceaselessly tired. I want to feel alive- full of life that leaves me the kind of tired that brings true rest; the kind of tired that comes after such a deep fulfillment that there is rest in the rejuvenation that comes with the work.

I hesitate to act on any of this for fear that it is a momentary emotional reaction to a temporary change. But what if? What if this is the space I need to make a decision I didn't know I needed to make.

I try my best to communicate clearly so please hear me on this: I have no reason to leave where I am. I have nothing to run from and nothing to run to. I am actually very happy exactly where I am. I returned to my job and was surprised how much I like it- how blessed I am to do what I do. I returned to an office of truly amazing women whom I have grown to admire, appreciate and love. I returned to a home that is exactly that- a home, not just a place I live. I have come back to the community that is growing and a church that is being built and projects I am involved in that bring so much life to my soul.
I have been and continue to be surrounded and filled with a peace that has been my companion in a richer way than I have experienced in a while. I feel freedom to make decisions and choices- to move in some way. At this point, the questions are vague and the answers are blurry. But I am asking and I am seeking.

And in the midst of this, as I have dreamed and thought and prayed and sought clarity and truth and guidance, I began to remember so much of the reasons I stay. To these concerns, I heard the Lord respond tenderly:

Can you trust me with this? Can you trust me to take care of the women, of your loans, of your friends, of your family?

God is sometimes nonsensical; which drives my practicality crazy. But, sometimes, that is the best place to find God.

The aftermath of returning home

What is missions? What is ministry?

That was a question I posed to the director of our Global Outreach (missions department) at church almost two years ago when I was finally ready to admit that missions is where my heart is; but what is it?

I grew up in the church and on mission trips. In my mind, missions trips were blurbs of ministry- a lot of hard work to meet a need. During that time, you do more than you typically would in a week's time- you give more, you complain less, you work together with people you may not usually work with, you swallow your pride a little easier, you work hard and sleep less.

In my head, I had separated missions and ministry and life. Missions became what you went out to do on purpose to "reach the lost" - those outside the church. Ministry became what you do while working within the church- aka, everything else church-related, such as Sunday School, Wednesday night programs, special programs, etc. Life was everything else remaining: school, extra curricular activities, family life, friends, etc.

However, I don't think this is true. I think life is meant to be for ministry and missions is the outpouring of this choice. I have tried for years to compartmentalize these areas for concern over the amount of work required to live this way- it's a lot to pursue a different way of life than what I am naturally inclined towards. I am selfish. I like my time and energies to be at my disposal instead of constantly being used and exercised.

But it is in the places I let go of my concerns and my time and energies that I am most refreshed and alive. These are the places I find myself at home. I think this is because I am living in a different way- depending on God more and moving towards him instead of my own ideas of what I think will be fulfilling.

I think this is one reason this return has been the best and most difficult. I am leaving a small time of community and ministry in it's most concentrated form. I am returning to a place of routine - which I love - but a life of requirement in different ways. I have to get up and go to work. I have to make sure the dishes and laundry are done. I have to pull my weight as a co-worker, a roommate, a friend, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a church member, and missions team leader. I begin to see my time and energies become fractioned off into these roles. In this place, it is easier to complain and feel my selfish wants and let them become my motivation for behavior instead of humility and desire for God to be glorified. I am back to commitments and requirements of my time. And none of this is bad. None of these areas, roles, places are bad. My life was meant to be a ministry to others- ministering to their needs. I can minister at work, at home, in all of these roles. I can rely on God for all of this, just like on a mission trip. And that's what this is, this life is a mission trip.

So I am becoming less concerned about the terminology used and more concerned about each moment God has called me to, led me to, met me in; each place of ministry to others.

The Beauty and Burden of Going Solo

I was asked on the flight over to Austria where I would go if I could go live anywhere- where does my heart long to be? I couldn't answer that question at the time; I could live just about anywhere. However, as soon as we landed, I knew the answer- I felt the answer: Europe. I love it here. The way of life, the sights, the smells...

There is much I could write about and much I hope to in the near future. However, what I cannot seem to shake is a phrase used by a woman on staff here as we were beginning our orientation. She began explaining the way to interact with those from other cultures. She stated that, especially as a solo woman, it is important to allow the other person to initiate what kind of greeting is appropriate. 

Later, as I chopped about 25 apples into bite-sized pieces, this rippled through my thoughts. Solo woman. To be given a solo in a performance is a big responsibility- to carry the moment in all it's glory. It shows the level of skill possessed and faith entrusted. The beauty of a solo performance is unique, just as a duet or trio or any other combination of performers. They are all beautiful in their own respects and given purposes. To carry the burden of responsibility alone in the performance is much like my life- the beauty and burden is special to one.

Traveling and being here has brought out many struggles I thought have been conquered or at least were moving towards that direction. My weaknesses have been highlighted and put on display; I feel as though the well of grace I have come to trust has dried up. I am constantly finding myself at the end of my abilities. My work is not demanding, but working, leading and learning has been consuming my last energies. In the midst of becoming frustrated and wondering why I do not feel the grace I have become accustomed to, I was immediately faced with this question: why did I think this would be easy? Why did I think God would not allow me to be stretched by this experience?

Because I was under the (false) impression that my work was done by just getting everyone here in one piece. The rest was supposed to fall into place and take care of itself. I find myself becoming frustrated when directions are not followed, when expectations in the schedule change, when people want relationship and not just a task completed, when I am at a loss as to how to handle relationships or understand people's behaviors, when I am constantly face-to-face with the very natures that I feel overwhelm me with no escape. I see myself turning to momentary relief instead of taking the time to seek the Lord and to see his peace in this place. I am seeing waves of reminders that the Lord is available; that I am able to let go of my desire to find comfort in the schedule or task; that he is able to take care of me if I pour myself into this place and into these people.

The thing about solos is that there is a community of others involved in the performance, a symphony of others all playing their parts. The soloist relies on these others in the performance. There is no place for a soloist to simply stop and it is not the job of the soloist to direct this symphony. It is the job of the soloist to know the part, perform it well, and perform it with the rest of symphony.

As I lay me down to sleep

I am reminded of a time where messages of freedom were spoken to me in the midst of such pain that I could not fully hear to understand.

Looking back over the long days and nights, the stretches of which became weeks that turned to months all connecting to form a year, I can see with clarity and certainty what was meant by those words spoken with hope and promise. I can see the release from what I held so tightly to that I was held back in a place of voluntary captivity.

And now, more than ever, I am thankful for the broken freedom.

Lamentations 3

A Single Pursuit

There is a difference between being alone and being unwanted.

I live a comfortable existence walking through my days and weeks connecting with various people and keeping the connection at appropriate levels of depth determined by the strength of the relationship. Part of this is because I usually have the only say-so in my schedule and sole responsibility of my time.

And I rather like this funny life I am living. I do not understand it to say the least, but to watch it unfold in the different seasons has been, at times, excruciating, but always a revelation of beauty.

However, there are times as I walk this life alone that I easily confuse being alone and feeling unwanted; and these are two very different things. I have little trouble being alone and often escape to do just that. I have a lot of trouble feeling unwanted. 

So what do I do with that? When being alone seems to highlight the feeling and point to being unwanted.

First, I realize the insane whirlwind of emotional thought driving that  feeling- fear. 

Second, I own that fear: I do fear being unwanted. To be known and found wanting... that is about the worst feeling a person can experience.

Third, I look for truth. God promised he would never leave me or forsake me. I have to believe that is true, because when I cannot see the physical relationship in front of me in my quiet hours of solitude, or in the days when I am stretched so thin I can barely breath for fear of snapping, I have to believe in what I cannot see. 

Fourth, I get to chose to believe in that truth or continue to believe in my skewed perception of the reality in which I sit.

These numbers hold very little weight in the midst of that place of fear. When it's in black and white and reduced to letters strung together making the sentence make sense, it seems sensible. 

I do not fear being alone.

I fear being unwanted.

And that is to be human. That is to feel alive. That is to recognize my need- not just my need for relationships with others, but it shows my absolute need in a God who is not moved by my circumstance and is not shaken by my doubt. 

devotions of a mother in a waiting room

as I feel the tidal wave of pictures surge on social media, I am overwhelmed by so much new life and new beginnings- it is a beautiful thing to see

but this is an aspect of life I wonder if I am to only participate in as a spectator

those kids I always pictured in my future were visions resembling magazine cutouts and commercial clips

I was inspired by the idea of letting my son have a mohawk and go to the store in a super hero cape and letting my daughter wear her tutu and soccer cleats together because she wanted to

the visions I have of my future look nothing tangibly like that future I assumed I would step in to

what I see now opposed to then is a different kind of birth and growth-
a metaphor

I see a continued growth in myself- feeling the odd cravings to taste new and strange things I would never have had a taste for- or the immediacy of tasting what I know is good at all hours of the day and night, the onset of getting everything cleaned and straightened and in order, experiencing the joy in the hope of what is to come and the discomfort as that growth becomes almost too much to bear

there is the time when this new life needs every ounce of me - when I tend to it losing time, sleep and money having no idea if what I am doing is right and concerned I am missing something

there is a time as that new life grows and demands less and less of me and can function independently leaving me feeling superfluous



there is no way to assume this is the same as giving physical birth to a child
there is no way to assume this will be the only way I give birth

I don't know that I am built to carry the physical weight and wait of what it takes to create a new life and sustain that life
I don't even know what it is to live with the persistent and deep longing unmet, the void of a desire yet to become real and tangible in a physical way


I do know that I am in a place to build and work under the weight and in the wait of a new birth of vision

and as I wait, the weight continues to impress on me ever-growing into something I could not plan for or fully be prepared for
I hope and pray over this vision as a mother would a child - hoping that it grows healthy, plays well with others, is thought well of, is beautiful, would leave a strong legacy in it's wake

Hiding: a how-to guide.

Around the third or fourth grade, I remember playing Monsters in the Dark. I was at my brother's friend's house and the lights were all out and we would play hide and seek in the dark. I hated being the person seeking because I not only enjoyed finding a good hiding spot in the dark, but I was good at it. However, no matter how good at hiding I was, I hated waiting in the dark. There's an anxiousness in waiting to be found. And it was alone in the small spaces that the darkness seemed to envelope me in an almost mystical way that turned furniture into monsters and shadows into demons.

Now that I am an adult, I still hate the darkness; whether it is physical, spiritual, or emotional darkness. Having hidden in that darkness, calling the shadows my friends, I can more easily recognize when I begin to sink into those spaces, begging for someone to find me but not feeling able to call out for help.

Just like the game, hiding is unique to each person- to find that one spot that no one knows about or knowing just how to position yourself so that you blend into the darkness.

One of those spaces I have found to hide is in busyness. Being so busy that I do not have time to really be known, thus creating a safety zone of friendliness that provides an illusion of connection without any real relationship. Or, I use it as a reason to jump in and out of commitments. In some regards, my busyness has become a sort of safekeeping providing a barrier of protection to rely on. Even today, I swept in and out of church making sure to not stop moving long enough to really talk with anyone; giving the impression that I was needed to accomplish tasks and the vibe that the importance was too great to slow down.

One of the ways I used to hide was to shut off, shut out, and shut down. I would literally fold in on myself until I was on my floor or bed in the fetal position. I still struggle against this reaction. To play and replay events in my head trying to find a way to sort it out and find some understanding mentally so it feels manageable emotionally. This is a frustrating way to hide- behind intellect and psychobabble.

There are a lot of ways I hide and there is reason for this: fear. Fear of being hurt. Fear of being a dissapointment or being disapointed. Fear of not being right. Fear of looking foolish. Fear of being capable/successful.
But reason does not equal excuse and fear is not an excuse to hide. If it was, then it would be acceptable to remain as I used to be and God loves me too much to leave me as I am. He has called me out of hiding in the darkness. He has called me into the light. In so many areas, he has acknowledged my reasons but has not let them excuse me from his call.

He has called me to be known. I do not yet know what this looks like, but I am finding this day by day. In the interactions with my roommates first thing in the morning when I cannot filter out the rough edges of my natural tendencies. In my work as many of my fears and joys are interwoven throughout the day and my coworkers experience the truer versions of myself breaking through. In ministry as I work with amazing women and a great staff who see my desire for control trump my struggle to relate.

In all of these places, I have been called to come out of hiding in the dark. In doing so, in that fear and risk, I have experienced responses of grace that overwhelm my tired heart and renew my anxious mind.