How Ropes Taught Me Patience

As of yesterday, I have been here at camp in Alabama for one month. When this current week comes to a close, I will be half way through the summer, halfway through my job working here at a camp for girls. How did it go by so fast?

A long time ago, it seems, when I was in counseling with a Christian counselor at my college, the question was posed: "Do you love yourself?" Now, I grew up being taught that JOY comes from loving Jesus first, Others second, and Yourself last. So I kind of shrugged off the question and moved on, going on about the fact that I like who I am becoming or something equally strange and cheesy. Whatever.

Yet my counselor kept going back to the question. Later, or in different sessions, or the next semester, he would ask. Again. "Do you love yourself?" 

So I asked what that meant. Aren't I always supposed to put myself last? I asked God to show me why I needed to love myself and how I could do so. You can see some of the posts I've written about the realization <a href="http://losingmyselfblog.blogspot.com/search/label/love%20yourself">here</a>, but to summarize, I learned that 1 Corinthians 13 applies to me too. The adjectives in that chapter should define the way that I treat others and the way that I treat myself.

Fast forward to camp. My very first week in Alabama was staff orientation, and I began training on the ropes course. My goodness, that was tough! It was several hours each day (usually 9am-4pm) of not only training on each element, but also going on each element multiple times so everyone had a chance to train well. I was exhausted. One afternoon, while I was training high in the zip line tree with my friend Ali, I was taking a little longer than some of the other trainees. Ali remarked between participants that I was being really patient with myself. 

I don't think I realized it at the time, but it came to me slowly later. And I almost broke down. I was being patient with myself. Patient. You know what love is? "Love is patient, love is kind..." I was astounded. Here I am, learning how to love myself 50 feet up in the air. 

A couple weeks later, when I was asked to train in the rappelling wall window for the advanced class, I mentioned to my friend Kat, who has been doing ropes for a number of years, that ropes course is teaching me to be patient with myself. And as I continued to train, it was proven true. You must remember each specific aspect of the element; which way to clip into a harness and when to flip the carabiner; which way to turn and hold the belay device; when to use a screw gate, a rapid link, or an auto lock; how to get the best helmet adjustment, etc, etc. Yes, a lot of it becomes muscle memory after a while, but like I said in introductions for this new group of campers, I've been doing ropes for an entire four weeks. I have noticed improvements, such as the amount of time it takes me to five point check a camper and clip in my belay device or my ability to get a helmet fitting just right, but I am still learning. I am so grateful for the people I work with who challenge and encourage me and make me keep trying. 

I am thankful that this often difficult experience occurred at this time in my life. I am grateful for all the times I have learned to overcome and press on and achieve things I thought I could never do. And I'm grateful that I have learned one way to love myself: and that that is to be patient.

A Good Gift

This is a story of a father who knew how to give good gifts to his children...

One day a father gave his two children a present. He was a good man and a really mindful and caring dad, and he gave his children everything they needed. This gift was really special, over and beyond simply meeting a need. He carefully designed the gift himself, crafted it with both of his children in mind, and even got custom gift wrapping. When it was just the right time, the perfect occasion, the father gave the gift to his children, and they both appreciated the gift. He gave them specific guidelines for using the gift, but they found no problem with keeping to the guidelines.

Sometime later, no one knows exactly how long, the children disobeyed their father. They had been coerced into doing something that he specifically told them not to do. Even though they felt like they had been tricked, they willingly and individually chose to disobey their dad.

The children were ashamed and felt guilty, and they hid from their dad. When he came home and couldn't find them, he realized what had happened. It broke the father's heart, but he had to send his children away for a time. They had broken his trust and they needed to experience his discipline.

So the father helped his children pack their things, although it wasn’t much. Before they left, he wept with them. He told them that their choice to disobey him had disrupted not only both of their relationships with him, but also their relationships with each other. He assured them that he still loved them, but that this would be best for them. Then he reminded them to take with them the gift he had given them earlier. Their father explained that it would be more difficult to enjoy it now that their relationships were marred, but that it was still good. He sent it with them as a reminder of the perfect relationships they once had with him and with each other, as well as a reminder of the plans he had for them. These plans, he explained, were that one day they could both have perfect relationships again. “One day,” he told them, “We will be together face to face again, but until then, you might not be able to speak directly with me. It may feel like looking into a cloudy mirror, but I will write letters when I can, and I will send you messages.”

So his children left home, got jobs, and moved to different areas. They each had their own children and, eventually, grandchildren. When their children were old enough and mature enough, they passed the gift on to their children, and their children passed it on to their children. As the years went on, some parents did not instruct their children in the correct way to use the gift. Even when parents gave instructions, some children rebelled against these guidelines. The gift became misused and mistreated. Some people used the gift against others, perverting the purpose of the gift.

As a result of this treatment of the gift, many people experienced the shame and guilt that the first two children felt. Most of this guilt and shame forced the people into hiding, just as the first two children hid from their father. Because of this, the marred relationships the father spoke about grew even more disfigured. Yet some people who were broken by their guilt and shame realized that they did not want to or have to stay in that mistreatment of the gift. These people told each other of their guilt. They shared with each other that they didn't want to keep hiding.

By this time, the first father was a wizened old man, and many people would come to see him. He regretted that his children had disobeyed him and that the gift had been perverted over the years, but he knew that through this, many people would come to know him as their adopted father. While the time had not yet come for the children, both the first two children and the adopted children, to be reconciled completely to their father, he was ready to provide them with hope and healing despite their shame. When people sought out the father and asked him for hope and healing, he forgave them for misusing his gift and then gave them a renewed desire and strength to pursue the gift in its pure form. The people weren't perfect, but they tried, and the father met all their needs. And when the people messed up? The father continued to show them grace upon grace.

---

In light of recent interpersonal and community-wide discussions on sexual brokenness, I was challenged to think of sex as God's gift. This has been really difficult for me, and I wondered whether I should write or post about it at all, but I find that silence is the worst choice in this area. One of the causes and contributors to sexual sin, especially hidden sin, is loneliness. Shame from the sin breeds silence, which breeds loneliness, which leads to more sin, which causes shame. It's a relentless cycle unless someone knows, unless it becomes one less person struggling alone.

I wrote this simple retelling of the Garden of Eden and sexual sin to encourage us to find the goodness in God's gift. He is a good father who gives good gifts, but he gave instructions and parameters to this gift so we could enjoy it wisely. (This is an interesting parallel to his command that Adam and Eve not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.) In terms of parameters, I was once told that we don't build fires on our living room floors - we build them in fireplaces. These guidelines are good and wholesome, but there has been a lot of confusion. I think Satan loves to corrupt God's good things, and he has corrupted this quite a bit. There is much brokenness, guilt, and shame as a result of the misuse of God's gift, both because we live in a fallen world and because of the sinfulness of ourselves and other humans.

But God is good.

"But God" is my favorite phrase in the Bible. It shows up 59 times in the NLT. Therefore, despite the corruption, the misuse, and the guilt and shame, God is good. I believe that he gives us good gifts and he is heartbroken when they are misused, but it is not his plan to leave us in that. He is a God of grace and forgiveness and freedom.

What does that look like?

In February of my sophomore year, I started counseling in response to some difficult stuff that had happened earlier. One of the ways that I was able to heal during counseling was by changing the way that I saw God. Through counseling and prayer, I came to see God as a daddy whose lap I could climb up in. It came as a new revelation to me at the time that God would want to listen to me. I pictured having chai lattes with him at my kitchen table or sitting on his lap in a big, comfy chair. Interestingly, just the summer and semester prior to counseling, I had been reading and studying Captivating by the Eldredges. Every time I read it, something else jumps out at me, and that time I just faintly underlined (and didn't even put a tab at) one sentence almost half way through the book. Looking through the book now, I randomly found that sentence on page 100 and nearly cried when I saw it. It says:

The best thing we can do is to let Jesus come in, open the door and invite him in to find us in those hurting places.

God wanted me to let him in, and he continued to give me that image when I wasn't getting it the first time. That's what healing, forgiveness, and freedom looks like. It starts with letting someone in. For some people, the first person is Jesus, for others, they have to tell someone else before they can open up to the Lord.

The key here is that loneliness solves nothing. Shame will try to keep you down, but it will not define you. We are not defined by our failings and shortcomings, in this or any other area. Accountability and community are the safeguards.

And grace is the cure.

---

If this post hits home for you, I encourage you to seek out someone you trust who will listen and can help. If you're a TFC student, I pray that you'll get connected with the Breaking Free ministry (this chapel and others) or free counseling on campus. Let me know if I can help in any way.

Already Forgiven

My college's prayer team has spent days and weeks participating in 24/7 prayer for a number of years, and next week is our big Spring 2013 week of nonstop prayer. 24/7 Prayer is an "international, interdenominational Christian movement praying and working for reconciliation" spiritually, socially, and environmentally.

A couple years ago, while I was spending an hour in our prayer room on campus with a group of people for a 24/7 prayer week, I got the strong sense that God was speaking to me. This was before the really powerful sense of God's voice I felt when my vision clouded over and my heart beat faster, like when I was called to Asia, even though I haven't had that same experience in a while. Anyway, I felt as if God was saying, "I've already forgiven you." At the time, I had not been to counseling or expressed my need for confession or accountability yet. I didn't understand. It was almost like I could not quite process what God was saying to me, like I wasn't ready for it.

I'm not sure if I felt like I was being "super-righteous" or what, but I opened my eyes and looked for someone to whom I could tell what God had told me. I figured that since I didn't quite understand what he meant in reference to my own life, he must have meant it for someone else. I stood up and walked across the room to a girl I barely knew, who I'll call T, and I told her, "God has already forgiven you." She smiled at me, I smiled back, and I returned to my seat.

The funny thing is, she no longer attends my college, but I recently became acquainted with her blog. She is working with the International House of Prayer in the area where I used to live, and I am reading such encouraging and spiritually-motivating thoughts on her blog. A tiny part of me is like: Who am I to think I'm all high and mighty for God Himself to give me a message for this girl who is obviously closer to Him than I am?

I chastised myself for that thought, because why would I think that? Maybe she really did need to hear what God had told me. On the other hand, for several weeks after that night, I have questioned why I so distinctly felt God telling me "I've already forgiven you" if there was no point to it. Eventually, I gave up my concern for the circumstance and let it pass. Now, years later, it struck me tonight that perhaps that word from God was for me.

I have been out of counseling for over three months now, and I do not have all my problems solved. However, I am at a much healthier place in my life. I have learned positive coping mechanisms and successful thought processes. I have seen God in an entirely new light. And now even when the emotional roller coaster of that changing process is pretty much over, and it's tempting to get down on myself again, God continues to reveal little things to me. Like this thought tonight that maybe that word was for me: to prepare me for dealing with my crap and to prepare me for the time of learning after dealing with it.

His Words to me are:

I have already forgiven you. And I will keep forgiving you.

This is about more than the "sin that so easily entangles" that we all deal with everyday. This is about the deep tragedies of life from when we were younger, the sins we committed and the sins committed against us. This is about the sense of failing that grinds into our shoulders and backs and hearts and keeps us from standing up straight or letting our real faces show to the world.

Our God is not a God of anger. He is a God who speaks.

I have been praying for God to speak to me again, and I have been asking for more of Him since very early this month. I'm sad to say I have not been asking him consistently for these big things, but mostly I have been asking him for little things, like to "please let this computer open my document now so I won't be late to class." I know, those are ridiculous things. People write sermons on how we shouldn't treat God like a vending machine when they hear prayers like that.

Fortunately, those "little" prayers are teaching me something, too. A relationship with God is built not only on big things, but also on little things. Similarly, my relationship with my roommate L is built on "big" things, like finding time to Skype over Christmas or summer break or buying each other nice things for our birthdays. But it is also built on little things, like when I save her the chocolate piece at the end of a nutty ice cream cone. She loves the little chocolate piece. It's something small and meaningful, as crazy as that sounds.

A relationship with God should not be lived on Sunday mornings and during revival weeks. It should be lived in the day to day, and my seemingly petty prayers only serve to remind me to keep a conversation with God at the forefront. They remind me to ask God what he would have me do instead of constantly asking him to do things for me. He is so good and so patient and so graceful with an already-but-not-yet-resurrected-fallen-woman like me.

Oh, and by the way, the document opened before I had even finished my prayer. Even in the little things, God reminds me that he will always pursue me. He will always speak to me. He will always forgive me.

We are already forgiven.

The Rescue

I knew there was a problem when it was 1 am and I was still on my computer, following some drama play out on Facebook. The thing about relationships is that they are messy, and if I didn't know better, I'd stay as far away from all relationships as possible. Thankfully, the blessings of good relationships supersede the troubles of even the worst, and we can rejoice in those.

I sit here reminded of friends of mine who are fearful and broken tonight. Near the end of the semester, a good friend and next-door neighbor dealt with problems in her family. Her uncle had contracted a severe illness and is still in the hospital, though regaining his abilities to speak and move. Then between Thanksgiving and Christmas break, her grandmother (her dad and uncle's mom) passed away. She was struggling with the hurt. I got a text from another friend yesterday that her great-grandmother, who has been in hospice, took a turn for the worse. Then today I got a Facebook message from a third friend whose grandfather is at risk for his second heart attack in a week and it doesn't look good.

While praying for and thinking about these friends who are hurting tonight over the fear of the unknown, a song came on my iTunes shuffle that seemed to fill the room. I've written earlier about music: how songs bring back memories and how sometimes those memories get altered or replaced. This case is similar. "The Rescue" is about a guy who is offering comfort and rescue to a girl who has been hurt, but it carries a symbolic meaning of God rescuing his beloved, even ending with the lyrics to "Amazing Grace."

It took a minute to break through, but I realized that God was changing my perception of this song. For so long, it has only served to remind me of a relationship that went south. Yet when I realize that God can redeem not only my heart, but also this song, I see his rescue available for my friends. He can take these notes and these lyrics and give them a new meaning. It is not really replacing what they used to remind me of, but rather, providing a new layer of meaning.

It is in that sense of rescue, beautiful rescue, when I realize this is a community thing. "Community" is that sense of partnership and in-it-together-ness that encircles us when we feel loved and supported and held by fellow believers around us. Community is what Hebrews 12:1 is referencing (and what Hebrews 11 is proving). Community is the body of Christ coming alongside each other, to do what Romans 12:15 is commanding.  Community is the reason and the opportunity for accountability. Community is what happens (for me, at least), during impromptu hand-holding prayer and within acoustic worship sessions and when friends stop to ask how you're doing and really listen.

And I've always thought of rescue as a singular deal. One person getting rescued by God. Alone. I guess that stems from my similar belief that salvation should also be an alone deal. It's the reason I hate altar calls. Why would I want to go up to the front, not only where can people see me, but also where some person I don't know is waiting to lay hands on me and ask God for something generic for me?

Maybe there is a sense of community in rescue. After a year of counseling, I firmly believe that Christian counseling should be an extension of the body of Christ, i.e. community. It's two Christians coming together to discuss and navigate pain. If counseling is not a form of rescue, I don't know what is!

Not only is counseling a form of rescue, but I also believe intercession prayer is as well. I've never been good at intercession. I mean, I know it doesn't really count as a talent or a hobby, but I have never really learned how to do it right or even disciplined myself enough to get a good amount of practice in it. I typically say the generic things ("I ask that You be with my friends") and not much more. However, today, I sent a prayer over text to my friend whose grandfather is in the hospital. That was unique in itself. But something else was different for me: I prayed a character quality of God and a Bible verse. Suddenly, the focus of that conversation with God was not on me or on my friend or even on his troubles, but it was on God. And that felt so freeing. In that moment, it didn't matter how the prayer affected my friend or his family, it mattered that God was praised and uplifted and acknowledged as omnipotent and omniscient King. Then once God was praised and I rejoiced in that, I got a reply from my friend and was able to rejoice in that as well. Rescue became a joint act. I got to play a small part in God's work in my friend's life.

Christian college kids everywhere can identify, but it is typically over breaks when I feel the least supported. Everyone is at home, doing their own things, and I live more than 45 minutes from any friends. Community is hard to come by and Satan is easy to listen to.

But the wonderful God we serve caught my attention earlier this break with significant themes in the devotional I've been using. Two days in a row, I saw themes of blindness and deafness, with Jesus providing healing and asking the people to watch him and listen to him. I thought about it for a while and could not figure out why it stuck out to me. The thing is, God provides community even when we're all home on breaks. Friends who call, text, and e-mail, (and who respond to mine) are such encouragements during this time. In addition, being able to be with my family (who have finally started attending a good church regularly!) provides community as well. He is speaking; are we listening? Have we opened our eyes to God and shut them to Satan?

God is in the redeeming and rescuing business, and many times He uses his children to minister to others of his children. Keep your eyes and ears open. After going through a difficult time, he may just use you to provide comfort and offer rescue to your brother or sister.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.

- 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

What I'm Listening To:

"The Rescue" - Tyler Ward

"Hallelujah" - Tenth Avenue North

"I Will Wait" - Mumford and Sons

"Like An Avalanche" - Hillsong

A Success Story

This is a success story. Freedom is possible.

There's this realization that kinda hits you in the face when you overcome. It's even better when you realize God already overcame for you and in you.
Hillsong sings that when God took on human form in Jesus and came to die for us on a cross, shame and sinfulness were broken, faithfulness was revealed, sin was broken, hope and defense in Christ were proven, the lost were saved, and his name was (and will be) lifted higher. That's beyond incredible. God really died for us. For our hearts and for our souls.

So, back to the story. I overcame. That could be the entire story, but I'm going to be a little more open with you guys and share some of the back story. This is a slight bit vague so you can apply it to you and your struggles.

When dealing with repetitive sins (lying, coveting, sexual sins, anything that seems to ensnare or entangle you), I've learned that there are certain triggers that may prompt them. These may start out innocently enough, or may take the form of temptation. Either way, when faced with a trigger, we have choices. The knee-jerk reaction is to do what we've always done, in most cases, the sin. It's almost immediate. Sometimes we can get so accustomed to the repetition that we feel as if we have no option but the knee-jerk reaction.
I would like to take this chance to argue that we do have another option. Remember when I said that we have choices? Plural. More than one. So what do we do?

We cannot keep all of the triggers from happening. For example, say someone struggles with alcoholism. They can choose not to walk into a bar. That one is obvious. However, they may not be aware that a friend of a friend is planning to bring wine to a dinner party. One smell and that becomes a trigger. There is a sense of carefulness and discernment that comes along with an alcoholic's choice to embrace sobriety and healing.

My step one is this: Don't be stupid. (And I don't use that word flippantly.) Don't walk into a bar if you are a recovering alcoholic. Avoid the dessert table if you want to loose weight. Choose not to spend extended time with gossipy friends. Don't put yourself in a compromising position.
And step two: Bounce and replace. When I was in high school, the guys in my youth group learned a trick called "the bounce." For example, a girl at school is wearing something low cut. Instead of staring, they would "bounce" their eyes away. Tempted to covet your neighbor's oxen (er.... whatever)? If you can't avoid his "oxen," choose to focus on something else while you're over at his "farm." Get your mind off of the issue, whatever the issue is.
Replace refers to choosing something to fill the gap left by removing the sin. It's not enough to be tempted to punch some dude in the face and then just decide not to do it. What are you going to do with all of that energy that you built up while getting ready to punch him? What are going to do with those feelings of anger? Replace the sin you just avoided with a better coping strategy. One of the reasons I took up knitting was because I used to bite my fingernails. When I decided I didn't want to bite my nails anymore, I looked for something else to do with my hands. It is also great that knitting involves creating something, because I was more likely to stay with it when I saw the benefits that could come from it. Namely, scarves and sweaters and stuff. Slowly, the repetition of knitting (and of choosing knitting over nail-biting) replaced the repetition of biting my nails.

When it comes to repetitive sins, identify your triggers, don't be stupid, and bounce/replace. In this way, overcoming becomes much more possible. Just a word to the wise, however, if and when you follow through with your first reaction (the sin one), know that God has already forgiven you. And he is still overcoming for you. Choose to avoid sin for the purpose of strengthening your relationship with God and keeping yourself from the consequences, but don't ever fall into the trap of legalism. I believe that eventually, your first reaction will be the better strategy instead of the sin. But that takes a lot of time and consistently choosing good over evil for that to happen. So don't let your guard down.

Anyway, so I told you this was a success story. Well, last night I encountered a significant trigger for me. And I was not moving in the right direction. (The right direction, by the way, is as far away from the trigger as possible, mentally or physically, usually both.) It wasn't looking good. I came to the point in which I had to make a choice: keep going in this direction (give into the temptation) or turn around and run away (flee temptation). Suddenly I caught a glimpse of how I would see this situation if I were an outsider looking in on the circumstances. Not a pretty picture. Then I realized that looking back on that moment and seeing it as future-me was not any prettier. And in that moment when I thought I had no choice but to give in to the knee-jerk reaction, I made the choice to stop right there in my tracks. Turn around. And run away as fast as possible. I bounced and then replaced: went to play piano and then made cookies with some friends.

Easy does not describe that choice to change directions. At all. But overcome does. I overcame. Victory, hallelujah.

1 Corinthians 10:13:

The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure.

For an entire year, from one Easter to the next, God hammered (for lack of a better word) his faithfulness into me. I bet I heard faithful used in some form every day that year. To see that word show up in this verse, seven months after that "hammering" subsided, is pretty amazing. God is not finished with us. He will not give up on us. And he is faithful, not only to provide a way out, but also to forgive us if we do fall.

So beautiful. Our God is so merciful and so good and so just. Hallelujah, we are free to struggle, Tenth Avenue North sings, but we're not struggling to be free. We are already free. We are free to struggle. It's that struggle that makes us feel alive and that gives us the joy we can find when we overcome. Hallelujah, God did not make robots. God made people with free will who have the choice for relationships with Him. And because of that free will and those choices, we can know love.

Relationships are a lot of give-and-take. I have an amazing roommate who I've been blessed to share a room with for a second school year now. This friendship we share is so unlike anything I've done before. We are so close that we now know so much about each other and, yet, there is no judgement in our relationship. She knows my crap and loves me anyway. Our relationship is full of give-and-take. When one of us is upset about something, the other one will be, too. When one of us acts selfishly, it takes away from the other. And that relationship is a (not-perfect, but similar) picture of the relationship God wants to have with us.

Blessed be the name of the Lord that he made us for relationships, not dictatorships or mechanical repetition or false obedience. We obey God out of love for him. How beautiful is that?

In this moment when I'm sharing my success story, I have to give all honor and praise to God. Success is not possible without him. Trying to avoid a repetitive sin without God's strength and grace is like trying to survive a hurricane while standing outside in an open field beside a telephone pole. It doesn't work, because in that moment, you are a prime target.
I also want to leave you with the thought that success in overcoming is even more possible with accountability. Trying to avoid a repetitive sin without someone else knowing and holding you accountable is like trying to survive without water. Telling someone else is extremely painful, but it is also amazingly refreshing. That's why I went to counseling. And it's the same reason why I am phasing out of counseling and into an accountability/mentoring kind of thing in this next semester. And you know what? Go back and read 1 Corinthians 10:13. It says that "no temptation has seized you except that which is common to man." Literally. That means that you're not alone. Did you catch that? You. Are. Not. Alone. Realizing that right there made it easier for me to tell someone. I hope it does the same for you.

I want to leave you with these truths: Success is possible. Freedom is real. Healing is tangible. There is nothing wrong with you. God is merciful. God has already forgiven you. You don't have to live like your past.
Remember: avoid your triggers (don't be stupid), bounce/replace, get accountability. More on that last one soon.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.

- Hebrews 12:1

Peace be with you.

What I'm Listening to:

"Lay Me Down" - Chris Tomlin
"The Earth is Yours" - Gungor
"The Struggle" - Tenth Avenue North
"Worn" - Tenth Avenue North

The Mystery of Grace

Towards the beginning of the summer, I wrote a post on my realization that God sees me, and that He is aware of me and cares specifically for me. Last week, after an incredible Spiritual Emphasis Week, I felt the need to write a post describing my interactions and reactions with what I learned in chapel.

But I was at a loss for words. Until tonight.

I was fighting the temptation to throw myself a pity party for some ridiculous reason when I hopped on to Twitter and saw a line from C.S. Lewis sitting on my homepage. 

Wow. "He sees because He loves, and therefore loves although He sees."

I acknowledged back in June that God loves us and sees us, but I still have a difficult time understanding God's love "although He sees." The fact that he loves even though he knows we are broken and messy. Being a natural rule-follower, I have legalistic tendencies, which show up in huge way in my interactions with sin and grace. Grace, to a rule-follower and people-pleaser like me, is ludicrous. It makes zero sense. Why would a perfect God choose to love and forgive a consistently sinful person like me? My confession is that I don't understand grace.

If God truly saw me, We reason, he would never love me. He would never forgive me. He would always be angry with me.
If my friends knew who I really was, they would be disappointed in me or just avoid me.
If, God forbid, I told my pastor or even a mentor or counselor, about my struggles or pain, I would be pegged as a psycho by everyone who knew.

Um, hello? None of that is true. I know, I know, it is so hard to believe it. For one, our godly friends are gifts from heaven who make up the body of Christ for us. They are there to bear our burdens.  A friend who will not only confront us with grace, but who will also hold us to accountable if and when we mess up again is extremely valuable (Galatians 6). Two, many times there are issues, struggles, or pain we legitmately cannot handle on our own. God gives us not only friends and family, but also pastors, mentors, counselors, and the like to walk with us through those dark places.

---

I'm in my second semester of counseling right now. It seems like forever ago when I asked one of the counselors on campus if we could talk. We dealt with my parents' divorce. We identified practical steps for dealing with a broken friendship. We talked about a personal struggle. I found freedom in naming my issues. I was working to learn from them and move on from them.

I signed up to continue counseling this semester without even thinking about it. I came back here to school three weeks ago, moved in, and began weekly meetings again. We both knew there was more to my story. I ignored it and my counselor didn't press for it.

And then one day I told him that we could do "feeling journals" for the rest of the semester, but I didn't feel like we would go anywhere until I told him the rest of the story. (Paul Harvey, anyone? Anyway...)

"There's more." I said simply. He nodded. Silently and obviously, I gathered the courage to open the door into one of the darkest places of my heart. It took almost four weeks, not to mention the semester prior, to get to that point where I could let someone in on the "stuffed stuff," meaning, the thoughts and experiences I tried so hard to forget. They keep coming back because, until that point, they had not been dealt with. Now, it is freeing that someone else knows me to my core. It is freeing to have a safe place to talk about things that have been hidden for so long.

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So I have advocated for Christian siblings and for professional help, but I have failed to make the connection to God's grace. Yet. As Lewis said, "...He loves although He sees." Honestly, even as I sit here, I'm wondering if his love really is enough.

It seems to me that at any point, God could just stand up and say, "Look, Alex, I thought you were different. I thought my gift of salvation changed your life, but apparently you are still the sinful human now that you were back before salvation. It's too late for you. I'm tired of dealing with your crap."

Oh, how wrong that is! Brothers and sisters, God will never make that statement to any of us. I'm a firm believer in permanent salvation - God does not take it back.

Yet we know that God is holy, and, on our own, we are not. So, why does he love us? Because he wants to.

I was once told that the Japanese (and Chinese, I believe) symbol for righteousness is depicted by drawing the symbol for "lamb" above the symbol for "me." Thus, when God looks down from heaven, he doesn't see my sinfulness, but Christ (the lamb of God who took on the sin of the world) covering over me. (See more info here) This is righteousness. It is as if Jesus Christ, who never sinned, is like a white robe to cover me.

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One of the most significant things I learned from Spiritual Emphasis Week is that God wants to come sit with me in my brokenness. He loves me enough to want to be invited into the dark places of my heart so we can drink Chai lattes (my drink of choice!) and feel that pain together. I believe the Holy Spirit is the person of the trinity who does just that.

And the reason that God can come into my place of sinfulness and pain with me? He's already forgiven me for it. "Christ suffered for our sins once for all time" (1 Peter). I think He is able to feel my pain because we have a high priest who sympathizes with us, namely, Jesus. He loves me intimately and wants me to trust him with the dark places. Isn't that beautiful?

Friends, God will not give up on you. I went to a Tenth Avenue North concert this past weekend and I was blown away by the stories Mike Donehey (the lead singer) shared about God's grace. I had pre-ordered the new album, The Struggle, when it was first available, but it wasn't until I heard Mike share stories and Biblical truths behind the album's songs that I was aware of how they really capture the idea of God's grace.

I hope to post more about grace as I'm learning to understand what I can of it, but I will leave you with this chorus from "The Struggle," by Tenth Avenue North.

Hallelujah, we are free to struggle
But we're not struggling to be free
Your blood bought and makes us children
Children, drop your chains and sing

Suddenly, freedom in Christ becomes a much more beautiful thing. Yes, God sees us because he loves us. As a direct result, he also loves us even though he sees us. All of us. They say a true friend knows everything about you and still loves you.

Oh what a friend we have in Jesus...

Coming to Terms

On their new album, Switchfoot sings,

I try and hide it and not let it show
But deep down inside me I just don't know
Am I a man when I feel like a hoax?
The stranger in the mirror is wearing my clothes
....
I want to thrive, not just survive...

Finding words for this post was difficult, I'm just going to be honest, and the post seems all over the place and scrambled. This week has been like an emotional roller coaster. I learned this week to let go of the things I carry around with me. It's like an unspoken rule that I always have to be upset or angry over something; I must always have a grudge on someone. I like to hold on to what happened and let it fester. Even if I've already forgiven and "moved on," bringing it up again to complain about it is somehow comforting.

The truth is that I should just get over some of those difficult things I carry around with me. Others of them, however, while I may have moved past them in one sense, are deeply embedded into who I think I am. Those usually deserve some deeper thought and prayer (maybe some evaluations, some changes, etc), but they are definitely not the end of the world. Nothing really is. God's got me no matter what, and I need to remember that.

On Monday, I had my first appointment with one of the counselors here on campus. I realized I could not deal with issues from last semester, seven years ago, twelve years ago, etc., on my own. Plenty of hurt surfaced, some related, some not, and I had to talk it out. I had to pray about it. I had to stop bugging my friends with my same, ridiculous issues again and again, and I needed someone to talk to who wasn't nineteen years old and living in a college dorm. I realized not only am I more than what has happened to me, but I'm also more than what I've done. God does forgive sin.

I feel a bit ashamed to admit that I broke down at church on Wednesday. I felt so alone. It was stupid, really. With my extremely sensitive nature, I took some sarcastic comments a little too personally and they became the straw on the camel's back of my emotions. With the help of my pastor's lovely wife and a good friend, I realized that we are all, essentially, the same. We all have crap in our lives. We all have needs and desires: psycho-social, physical, mental, emotional, relational, psychological, spiritual, and more. We all have this overwhelming emptiness, this innate yearning for something more. We all fear that we are just not good enough or we just don't quite fit. Therefore, it is wrong to complain about our issues, because, let's face it, others are hurting, too. This does not mean that our true friends do not want to hear from us. Or that its wrong to have a bad day or need some crying time or whatever. It just means that we should be living with our eyes ahead, lifted to God's grace, whether we are on the mountains or in the valleys of life. Don't get so bogged down in the things of life. Name them, learn from them, and move on.

Please be praying for my dad and stepmom. This past week, two relatives and friends of theirs passed away, both pretty suddenly. I have been praying for and seeking a way to talk with them about Jesus, and while this was definitely not expected, it does provide a prime chance to talk. Please pray for that.

But there is good news, my friends!

On Thursday, I was blessed with two generous donations for my trip to China this summer. God is so good. I cannot imagine how poor college students could have contribution so much already. Your prayers are coveted for the trip, especially for the teenagers I will be teaching, either middle or school or high school grade(s).

Also, I will be teaching (substituting) in an ESL class on Tuesday. I usually team-teach the Advanced class with a friend, but this week I am substituting alone, for the beginner's class, which is super exciting.

Finally, to end on a good note, I want to show you a blog post I wrote when I was turning 18. I asked if I was what I thought I would be, and if I wanted to be who I thought I would be. I answered both questions with a "no," because even though I had most of what I wanted (like a car, a job, extracurriculars, etc.) In a sense, I'm glad I got what I wanted. But more than that, I realized, at seventeen and 362 days, that I wish I had listened to God more during high school. I do not want that to be a regret of my college experience.

One way to avoid being regretful in college is to move on through my issues and difficulties. Getting stuck in the pitfalls is an absolutely horrible idea. This week I began taking the first steps to a continual process of moving on, and it was the people around me who helped to make it possible.