Freedom

In reply to my previous posts about second chances and leaving it behind, I wanted to share this quote. It's from James MacDonald's sermon on "Freedom from People Pleasing." Sometimes I listen to his sermons on podcasts when I work out and this stuck out to me today.

In John chapter 8... Jesus says to them, 'If my Word abides in you, you are my disciples indeed, or you are truly my disciples. And you'll know the truth and the truth will set you free.' And so the two characteristics of a genuine believer are: that you have this growing love for God's word and then the result of that is that you have a growing pattern of freedom in your life. People who don't know Christ are slaves to sin. They've just got certain sins that every time it calls their name they come running and they can't change it and they try not to be angry, they try not to be selfish, they try not to be prideful, they try not to be lustful, but they are. And they always come back to it.... But see, the thing is, is that when you're in Christ, you're getting free. You're getting increasingly free.

I am amazed at God's provision right when I need it. He is calling us to freedom. 

Second Chances

After a lovely graduation at my alma mater and an awesome commencement speech from one of my favorite high school teachers, I had every intention of welcoming friends into the high-school-graduate club, taking a few pictures, and heading home to enjoy the beautiful and warm evening. I planned to write a blog post and add some supporters to my e-mail update list for while I am overseas before going to bed.

 I was feeling like quite the independent woman, to say the least. (Cue the “independent black woman who don’t need no man!”) Walking back to my car after the ceremony tonight, in my heels with my fancy purse, I relished (maybe a bit too forwardly) that I was a twenty year college student with my life before me and trip to Asia on the horizon. I even got the random urge to roll down my windows and turn up the radio and sing Abandon’s “New Years Day” much too loudly on the thirty minute drive home. It was fantastic.

Then I glanced down and realized I had missed a call from my mom. I called her back and we played a short round of phone tag. She called me back again and asked me if I had left graduation yet and where I was.

Pause with me for a moment. Here I am. Independent. Driving my own car. I have been at college on and off for two years, during which time I do not call my mom every time I leave or arrive somewhere, like I once did during my first years as a licensed driver. My mom was even at graduation, though she was required to sit with the other teachers while I sat with a friend, and she told me she was leaving as soon as the ceremony was over, but that I could stay as long as I wanted. So why did she call me? It felt like overkill.

Believe me, I absolutely love my mom. But there was something that irked me about her phone call. Sometimes I feel like I am at this strange and confusing crossroads between child and adult. Legally, I can order things online, drive unrestricted, live by myself, and a host of other things. One more year and I’ll be legal in more ways as well.

Yet at the very same time, I am so incredibly dependent. Just hours earlier, my mom bought my dinner at Moe’s and was reminding me that I have to rely on someone to come pick me up from the airport when I fly back to the US from Asia.

And when it comes to God, I need him to. Sometimes I hate admitting that.

I came home from college excited about this trip to Asia. I came home tired, so tired, but ready to learn and grow (and read and knit and run) this summer. And I was doing well, too. I had a system for getting up at a decent time, eating a healthy breakfast and doing a devotional time, then heading to the YMCA for a good workout and practicing for a 5K.

In time, I began slipping out of the schedule. I got prideful. I stayed up too late and woke up too late. I didn’t do my devotions; I stopped seeing God in the little things. I slipped up. Earlier today, I got upset for no reason. I lost my phone and blamed it on everyone but myself. I became disappointed in myself for a side cramp and a leg-spasm-thing that kept me from running today. I yelled at my brother.

When I don’t go to God for the daily (spiritual) bread I need each day, I sometimes wonder how I make it through the day. It’s awful. There is this God who is sovereign over everything and who loves me and I continue to ignore him and his pursuit of me because reading the Bible is “boring” or I’m “tired” or there’s “so much” to do. How stupid is that?

Tonight, driving with the windows down and “New Years Day” loud, I thought about second chances. Today did not go exactly as planned, although it ended well. When I mess up, whether I’m struggling with a bad habit sin or a major struggle sin, whether I’m just not seeing God or actively rebelling against God, it should bring me to (good) guilt - the kind that leads to repentance.

Repentance is not an “I’m sorry” and move on. It’s a changing “I’m sorry.” Repentance means that I hate the sin and I am so grateful that God would love me through and in spite of it. In reality, God does not see my sinful self, but rather the holy Jesus covering over me. And while God sees Jesus covering me, I am being redeemed and made holy. I am in the process of sanctification. I am being saved.

Am I there yet? Definitely not. But I must believe that God is working. God is moving. I am being sanctified. I am being made to look more like him.

And I must have patience with myself along the way. God is a God of second chances and it’s okay to need him desperately, because I do. A lot.

What I'm Listening To...

"New Year's Day" - Abandon

"You Are" - Tenth Avenue North

"You Are My King (Amazing Love)" - Newsboys

Check out my 30 Before 30 Blog: doing thirty things in the next ten years. Want to get e-mail updates  while I'm in Asia for five weeks? Use the form in the post below. Comment with your thoughts on repentance!

Thunderstorms and Change in the Air

It rained so many times today. The skies were absolutely dark in the direction ahead of me and I was driving  to a nearby town to pick up my brother. I called him and asked him if it was raining where he was. He assured me it was not and I hung up. A few moments later, it started pouring where I was driving.
It rained again when I missed my turn and took the back way to get my brother, this time a more gentle rain. My windshield looked like it was covered in tiny jewels.
Then it rained once I got into town and began helping for my mom's program. We moved everything for the reception upstairs into the cafeteria just in time before a huge storm hit. The lights flickered and the windows shook and we could barely see out of the windows.

My roommate-last-year loves the rain because to her, it is God telling her he's got everything under control and he knows what he's doing. I am not sure if I am remembering right, but I am pretty sure it rained at her grandfather's funeral, and that is why it means so much to her. It was like God was saying, "Hey, I've got this..." Recently, butterflies have been telling me the same thing. Rain often still gets to me in a beautiful way, but God has been using butterflies, too. For example, over the weekend I was nervous about a friend's spiritual life. I was putting my insurance information back into my glove compartment, half of my body in my car and half out, when I glanced out the windshield. Right as I looked up, a gorgeous blue butterfly flitted by. And God said, "Hey, I've got this..." 

I know it sounds a bit sacrilegious to an American Christian to rely on "signs and visions," although the Bible tells us that in the end days, people will prophesy and see visions and dreams (Acts 2:17). However, I know that God is a patient lover who is pursuing his bride, the church, both corporately and individually. And I know that one of the ways God pursues us is with things that have meaning to us, like the right song at the right time. Or a kind word right when we need it. Or a butterfly.

Believe me, God is here. And active. And he is working. We just have to listen.

From Flickr - US National Archives

P.S. I'm going to China in five weeks and two days! I will not be posting on this blog while I'm gone and I may or may not be available on Facebook. If you would like to receive e-mail updates from me (about one per week) while I'm out of the country for five weeks, please fill out the form below. Thanks!

Leaving It Behind

Hebrews 12:1 says: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

Happy May, everyone! I am officially finished with my sophomore year of college! I cannot believe how fast time flies.

If I could describe this year or even this past semester in one phrase, it would be “Coming to Terms.” I have spent my sophomore year coming to terms with my past, dealing with of crap, and learning to move on. I wish I could say I am now perfectly healed and whole, but that’s not entirely true. Yes, God has redeemed and ransomed me, and I am not who I was, but I still have a very long way to go. The cool part is that God has me where he wants me, and I’m sure of that now.

As part of this whole “coming to terms” thing, I shared a part of my testimony at the end of March with the ladies in my dorm. The entire experience was absolutely great - God had his hand in it the whole time. As part of the testimony night, everyone who shared painted, drew, or chalked key phrases from their testimonies on a piece of cardboard. Each lady’s cardboard testimony had a “before” side and an “after” side, describing her struggles on one side and her hope or change on the other.

After the evening, I put my cardboard testimony on the shelf above my desk where I could see it every time I walked in my room. The “after” side faced out, which was really encouraging. Yesterday, when I finished packing up and preparing to head home, I found myself unsure about what to do with my piece of cardboard. I knew I could fit it in my car, but I also knew that it would be hassle to squeeze it in somehow. And what am I going to do with a piece of painted cardboard?

I debated quickly whether to throw it away or to keep it, and the pack rat in me lost. But as I threw the rectangle cardboard testimony into the dirty and rusty garbage dumpster behind my dorm, I felt like I was leaving that pain and that sin behind. It was like a weight was being lifted. Suddenly, a portion of the guilt that I thought could never leave began to melt and crack a little.

So I left my sin in the dumpster. Eventually, a dump truck will come by and carry my cardboard testimony to a landfill miles away. It’s virtually gone forever. I promise I am still coming to terms. I promise I am still dealing with guilt, shame, and mistakes. I promise I will still struggle. But I know that I know that God has forgiven me. I don’t have to fight anymore. God is here.

Even before the word “Emmanuel” was used for Jesus to mean “God with us,” a name for God translated Jehovah Shammah was used. It means “The Lord is there.” Not only is this phrase the final words of the book of Ezekiel (48:35), but it is repeated multiple times in the Old Testament. It is used in reference to Jerusalem, as the Lord is living among his people in Israel.

I heard about Jehovah Shammah a while ago, but when I was coming to terms with feelings of loneliness, I began researching the name again. To learn that this name refers to the city of Jerusalem makes me want to cry with joy. See, when I shared my testimony in March, I quoted Isaiah 62:4 about God’s restoration of the city of Jerusalem. I mentioned it because I like to compare the broken and hurting woman to the broken and hurting city of Jerusalem during the times of captivity or warfare. Thus, just as God came for Jerusalem to heal her and rescue her, so God does the same for women (and men, too).

How beautiful is it to know that the same God who calls Jerusalem by a new name in Isaiah 62:4 because he is restoring her is the same God who then dwells in Jerusalem and calls himself Jehovah Shammah because he is there in that city with his bride. I believe that God is also calling himself Jehovah Shammah with us, his children. I left that sin behind in a landfill in some county in North Georgia, but God is here. Sometimes that’s all I know, and it is more than enough.

What I'm listening to...

"Million Pieces" - Newsboys

"Oh My Dear" - Tenth Avenue North