weblog the third: in which she reads a book that changes things

This leads me into my next big news, about a life-changing book and a funeral for a dream.

Back in April, I began reading Passion and Purity by Elisabeth Elliot, because it had sat unread on my shelf for several years and I was curious. So I began reading this book that’s basically journal entries and prayers and wisdom from her college-aged years, when she first met and fell in love with Jim Elliot (the missionary to Ecuador’s Quichiua Indians, whom the movie The End of the Spear is about). The book is a lot less about physical purity than I assumed it would be, honestly, and much more about the waiting process God called her to- and calls many of us to- in that time of her life. One specific chapter discussed her realization that God was killing her to lay down her dreams of falling in love with and marrying Jim, without the promise of them ever being resurrected.

Earlier in the book, she quoted that great man Oswald Chambers, “If I hold spiritual blessings or friendship for myself, they will corrupt me, no matter how beautiful they are. I have to pour them out before the Lord, give them to Him in my mind, though it looks as if I am wasting them, even as David poured the water out on the sand, to be instantly sucked up.” She went on to say for herself, “God gives us material for sacrifice. Sometimes the sacrifice makes little sense to others, but when offered to him is always accepted. What was the ‘point’ in God’s asking Abraham for the sacrifice of his beloved son, Isaac? The story has often been attacked as ‘pagan’ and has been grossly misunderstood. Our offerings to Him may very likely be seen as senseless or even fanatical, but He receives them. Jesus received the precious ointment from the worshipping woman, although those present thought it a foolish waste… I have tried to explain it sometimes to people who are lonely and longing for love. ‘Give it to Jesus,’ I say. The loneliness itself is material for sacrifice. The very longings themselves can be offered to Him who understands perfectly.”

It was at that point that I began realizing what God was preparing in my heart, but wasn’t sure how it would be played out. I knew I was soon to be giving up something, but as I was still unsure what that something was, I continued on my merry way.

One night as I was reading, God slayed me. I was reading and pondering and before I could even process my own thoughts, He slipped in with them and said, "You have to sacrifice London."

and I lost it.

Weeping. slight hyperventilation. inability to process.

Not London, God. You gave me that dream. It was Yours, it is what You made me for. Why would I need to kill it now?

and doggone it, wouldn't you know He reminded me of Abraham. Now I know I wasn't sacrificing a child or anything, but I quite understood Abraham in that moment. This thing that God promised me and gave me many years ago as a hope for my future was now being taken from me, and I was being commanded to kill it. 

It was as I read the words, "How would we learn to submit to the authority of Christ, if we had nothing to submit?" that the truth was pounded home. This was my thing to submit. London was what was standing between myself and my Christ.

And I must be honest, my first answer was "NO." 

I requested advice from a couple close friends, and got exactly the words back that I didn't want to hear. 

"I know it's hard, but you know you have to do it, Becca."

ARGH YES I KNOW BUT I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD RUN FROM GOD WIIIIITH ME ON THIS ONE GUYS COME ON.

So I told God my honest answer, "I want to say no, God. I want to tell you that you can never have London back, that it's mine and not Yours. But we know how that would go and how miserable I would be. So let me just say I'm not sure yet. I can't give you an absolute yes right now. I want to be able to, I want to have the faith to know that when I kill this, you will bring beautiful fruit out of that ground it falls into. But I don't trust that yet. I'm not certain that You will handle this in a way that satisfies me so right now I'm just saying I don't know. It's not a yes or a no, but it's honest and it's from my heart and I hope that's good enough for you."

And wouldn't you know that in just a few days, He tenderly knocked on my heart again and held His hand out for me to place London in the palm of His hand. And I did it tearfully and a large part of me went with it. 

But that's what happens when things die. When something or someone you love dies, part of you dies too. Those memories and hopes can never be made alive again the same way they once were. You can only hope that as you lay that dead thing in the ground and cover it with unworthy soil and water it with your own bitter tears, that one day, some better, more beautiful and exquisite fruit will arise from the ground. You can only trust that whoever is laying that dead thing in the ground knows what they're doing and knows how to make life out of dead things. Because you know someday you're really going to need it.

But for now, London has died. The part of my heart that held onto hopes of returning and living happily ever after has been given away to Someone that I really hope knows life the way I think He does. I water the ground where that dead dream lies, and I wait. 

Not because I love living in America that much, or because I love being with my family that much, or because I love doing life with my friends and Casey that much, or even because I love Jesus that much. 

But because Jesus has that much of me. He owns, controls and has more of me that anything or anyone else has. So when He tells me to kill this dream that was birthed not too long ago, I know that He has a purpose that is more intoxicatingly wonderful than I could hope or dream or understand. In the meantime, while I talk about this thing in my life that was once so alive but is now dead, He is making me.

Making me: to know Him, to know I need Him, to know I love him, to dream of Him alone. He is making me fully His.

(click to continue to weblog the fourth)