plants watered upside-down, and the big move

During covid, I decided (as many of you did) to expand my horizons and start new things/get back into some lost hobbies. I started playing video games with Casey (i.e. watching him play and giving advice), watercolor painting, taking care of plants, cooking and baking more, and playing piano/singing with Casey more. We also got a bird feeder and have become an 80 year old couple who gets up to watch the birds on Saturday mornings, and I don't hate that at all. These things were all so good for my heart and continue to be. I must say, my favorite newfound hobby is the plant-caring-for and bird-watching.

Now, you have to realize, only in the past couple of years have I been able to keep plants alive. Before, whenever I would buy a plant, no matter how sturdy it was, I would kill it, usually by over- or under-watering. In June 2020, after much encouragement from Casey and my friend Hanna, I went to Lowe's and bought a Pothos. While we were getting it settled at home that afternoon, my sweet old neighbor (who was the plant KING, he was amazing, his patio was full of lush plants and so beautiful) came over and offered a cutting of one of his favorite plants. He swore that it was impossible to kill and that it would survive anything, so I accepted it and planted it. After some googling, I *just* discovered it is type of Pallidia plant sometimes called 'Purple Heart'. From there, my little plant collection has grown. I propagated my Pothos shortly after moving to Cleveland- and IT WORKED! So now I have the big Pothos plant and two little ones, my Purple Heart, and I bought a Croton plant last summer that is still thriving! 

At the end of April 2021, I wanted to go for something more adventurous, so I got my first tomato plants. I was pumped, bought some giant terra cotta planters and tomato food and all that jazz, and jumped in. While I was asking around for any advice about tomato plants, my mom gave some advice that became much more meaningful than plant advice. She said, "Since your tomato plants are in pots, you need water them upside-down, to be sure to water the roots. Put a tray under them and water the tray over and over until the plant stops soaking it up. That forces the roots to grow deep in search of water, and your plant will be stronger." That just about smacked me on the forehead. It immediately felt like a metaphor for my faith. 

Over the past year or two, I have been in a new/different/odd place in my relationship with Christ. For a long time, our relationship was easy. I didn't have to work at it much. I had desire to be in the Word and communing with other Believers, and it just... happened. But sometime in the past couple of years, that shifted. It felt like I was in the weird teenage phase of my relationship, where I wasn't 'rebellious', but I found myself suddenly questioning things that had always felt certain. Similar to, "Wait... do my parents REALLY know what is best here? Do they understand the nuances of this situation? Should I lean fully on their judgment or take it with a grain of salt?" Except my questions were, "How do I know I can lean fully on God's guidance? What does it look like to be fully His? Is it possible to be fully His and ________?" (so many things can fill in this blank) So, to use a 'forbidden' buzzword, I believe I'm deconstructing. I see so many things taking hold of the Church in America that make me go... That's not Jesus. How do they think that's like Jesus? And so many things in my heart that make me go... That's not Jesus. How did I think that was like Jesus for this long?

In the midst of these questions and the watering of plants, I realized, I am being watered upside-down right now. He is growing my roots deep. And it doesn't look pretty on the outside, it doesn't feel like a freshly-watered pot, and many days I have felt dry on the surface, but I am watered deep within. I think that's a good thing? Sometimes I'm not sure that I'm doing this right, but I am trying, and I am looking for Him wherever I can find Him, and I am saying Yes to Him when he starts to change me, and I think that's right. 

There are many days I have asked Him, "Am I on the right path? Please move me if I'm not." I am so afraid of getting decades down the path and suddenly realizing I went the wrong way. Is it enough to just trust that He is a Good Shepherd and will lead and guide me, and my feeble idea of control is absolutely laughable? 

Somewhere in here, the birds fit in. They absolutely love our feeder and will empty it in 8 hours. As I watch them, and look at the plants on my patio, I am reminded of Matthew 6 and filled with hope. The birds do not prepare or plan ahead, and yet God cares for them and feeds them. The plants do not toil to be clothed, but God makes their coverings beautiful- for something that is here one day and gone the next! "How much more so" just keeps coming to my mind. How much more so does He prepare and provide for me and cover me. There, on my back patio, He has given the cure for my worries. 

And now, Casey and I find ourselves moving to a new back patio. Back "home" to Hub City. And while we are overjoyed at the Lord providing this, it is also extremely bittersweet. There have been loooooots of opportunities for worry, and God has been providing so much peace. Peace that, as Philippians 4 promised, passes my understanding. I literally find myself trying to objectively process the fact that we are moving, starting new jobs, living in a house, leaving our Cleveland people... all the changes... and going, wait- shouldn't I feel more worried about this? This is not like me. But thanks be to God for this peace that feels illogical!

Let me rewind a bit:

When we first found out we were moving to Cleveland, I was not happy. I shed a lot of tears and felt a lot of rebellion in my heart, but thanks to some wise and encouraging friends, I found the ability to exhale a prayer: “if this is it, God, change my heart.”

And He so absolutely did. 

Against all odds, I love this place. At first, it was just “oh my gosh, Cleveland is so small!”, but so many things that weren’t Cleveland’s fault have given reason for us to not love it. We have been far from our families, with few friends, in a small town. We experienced the darkest days of grief here. We lost three of our favorite people in less than two years- two of them within a month of each other. The walls of apartment 4102 have echoed our cries and seen our buckets of tears. We have been so fluent in tears during our Cleveland time. And yet…

I have loved this season. Casey and I are even more of a weird little team who spend 90% of our time together, and it shows. I love the people that Cleveland brought us, especially PDS. It was a miracle to begin with, me finding PDS at the time that I did, but it has become more of a miracle each day. My heart is knotted up in it, and leaving is gonna be excruciating. I fully believe Mary Kline, my teaching partner, is literally a gift from the Lord to me. There are not words good enough to express how much her guidance and partnership has meant to me. In fact, I feel that way about most of PDS. It is something I do not count lightly, the way they accepted this stranger so quickly, the deep love I have for the place I’ve worked and the people I’ve worked with. I know how uncommon it is to find that. I know the discomfort of working in a place where you feel like you have to keep your guard up. And let me tell you, it has been an absolute oasis to be in a place that is so much the opposite of that.

Somehow, oasis seems to be the word sticking in my mind during this move. When I drove away from my job interview at my new school and began talking to God, I said through happy tears: it feels like I have been in a desert this whole time and just stumbled upon an oasis. Kinda doing a double-take, like... wait, I was in a desert this whole time?!?

And while I am so thankful for the Lord's presence with me (and Casey) in the desert, in the spiritually dry and lonely and exhausting, I keep leaking out more happy tears at His provision of WATER. Set-your-Pothos-in-the-water-bowl-and-let-it-soak-up-everything-it-can water. We were watered upside-down in this season, and it was necessary and good and brought some beautiful lessons. I can't express my gratitude for that enough. And simultaneously, I am deeply thankful for the change of season happening before my eyes and looking forward to the new lessons and gifts it holds.

So. goodbye Cleveland. There are so many things I will miss: La Michoacana mocha ice cream and nutella pops, 50 nights of lights, Zoe Coffee, Uncle Jo’s mac and cheese, going out for Sunday lunch after church, being literally 5 minutes (or less) away from anywhere I need to go, seeing people we know in Kroger every single time, the winter snows, and stunning sunsets. And you sure know I won’t miss it, but I will never forget the insane mosquito season. 😂 I will, however, miss the dragonflies in July/August and my wonderful little slice of heaven in room 406 at PDS and my #dreamteam partner. 

this plant was in a funeral arrangement from a loved one,
and it became our classroom plant this year. I marvel at the irony
(or accuracy?) of the planter: let love grow. 

my sweet lil patio plants last summer (pre-bird feeder)

So thank you, my God, for being One who walks beside me in Cleveland and Hattiesburg just the same. Thank you for these plants and the ways you teach me about me through them. 

Thank you for planting me, for planting Your Word in me (Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent, and humbly accept the Word planted in you, which can save you! IF YOU DON'T THINK JAMES 1 THROWS DOWN, WE CANNOT BE FRIENDS haha but really).

Thanks for the eleven- and twelve-year-olds that speak James 1 to me and over me multiple times a day-- that's a gift I don't think I even grasp the depth of yet. 

Thank you for this heart of mine that cares so deeply and holds on so strongly to those I love. Thank you for the beauty of a broken heart as I leave people who have affected every bit of me.

Thank you for constantly reminding me "how much more so".

Thank you for holding all my tomorrows and tenderly walking me into each one- that is the best of it all.

bittersweet eighteen

Today marks 18 years with Jesus. I've been looking forward to this day for a long time, thinking it would feel glowy and resplendent. Strangely, it is much less dazzling than I thought it would be. Maybe if life were a bit different, it would feel more exciting and like the coming-of-age party I thought it would be. However, life is heavy right now. A lot of things feel hopeless. It feels like every day there's something new to discourage us. The world is shut down. No one is hiring anyone, at the exact time that Casey and I are looking for jobs. We have to consider the possibility of moving during a worldwide pandemic and quarantine. Casey's mom is sick and we can't visit her, just have to watch updates of hospital visits and scans and bad nights.
I probably shouldn't be writing while feeling so melancholy, but here it is. Life feels too heavy for me right now. There is too much to grieve and not enough to hope for. And these aren't even "real" trials for us yet. I feel wimpy for being so affected by so little; however, I know this is how He works my faith muscles and the only way to gain strength is to experience His power in my weakness.

For most of these past two years, we have felt unstable. Don't get me wrong, we are incredibly blessed to have wonderful jobs and friends and Church family and the best relationship as friends and spouses, but we frequently feel like a hard circumstance will be un-handle-able. I keep going back to a verse that struck me last summer, Isaiah 33:6- "He will be the stability of your times, a wealth of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge." That solidifies me again every time I get wobbly, offers my heart a strong hand to grasp hold of.

We are in a season of even more wobble, I think. Out on the end of the limb, as my parents often say. Waiting for God to come through. I know He will. I know it won't be in the way I expect or probably want Him to. I know He is always only ever good, and faithful, and steadfast.

Today, in reading Sara Hagerty's book Every Bitter Thing is Sweet (I fully embrace the perfection of reading such an aptly-titled book at this specific time), a line struck me- "As with any calling, we dip our toes in the water of yes and hope to God that this is the biggest yes we'll have to utter, the biggest move our hearts will have to make with such trust, only to find ourselves submerged years later." I have been hoping that saying yes to moving and changing jobs was enough, but I'm afraid that it isn't. The yeses only get bigger so as to deepen our trust and submerge our hearts in Him. That scares me, but I want it. In the same chapter, Sara also writes, "Instead of letting all that I lacked consume me, I was being made ready to delve into unknown frontiers of Him." If I'm honest, it's been five years since my last 'growth spurt' with God. It feels like a new one is beginning. It's always in those dark, scary times that we grow the most, isn't it? Maybe someday I will be mature enough to "delve into the unknown frontiers of Him" without a deep, scary thing in front of me... but I'm not there yet. Right now, it takes the terrifying to push me there.

I think I mentioned in my last blog that I felt a "holy unrest" in me (thank you for the PERFECT terminology, Priscilla Shirer). I realized I had grown stagnant with God, and knew He was preparing me for something, but I couldn't tell then. I still don't know what it specifically is, but I know it is this season we are walking into that He was beginning to stir up.

So, here I stand. On the cusp of something big, that I can't see or comprehend. Looking over the cliff, into the darkness, preaching to myself through song:
"In the valley of the shadow, I remember You are strong, God, You are strong."
"I put all my hope on the truth of Your promise, and I steady my heart on the ground of Your goodness."
"You don't give Your heart in pieces. You don't hide Yourself to tease us."
"You revive me, Lord, and all my deserts are rivers of joy."
"I will trust here in the mystery... You taught my feet to dance upon disappointment, and I will worship."
"There's no place I can go Your love won't find me, no place I can hide where You don't see, no place I can fall Your love wouldn't catch me."
"I am not alone- You will go before me, You will never leave me."
"Where there was death, You brought life, Lord. Where there was fear, You brought courage. When I was afraid, You were with me."
"When the night is holding on to me, God is holding on."
"I'm still in Your hands, this is my confidence: You've never failed me yet."

It doesn't feel much like an 18th birthday party. It feels dark and foreboding and like a lot of bad stuff is about to happen. Probably not the happiest bundle of thoughts to share publicly, but I know my God is a God of full-circle and completing what He starts, so I share this for the day when we can look back to the beginning and remember where it began. I share this to hopefully comfort someone else who also wonders what sort of vast unknown they are walking into, and how it will change them. I share this to reflect on these 18 years so far and remind myself that He has never failed me yet and He won't start now.

Finally, I can't get this quote out of my head. This season will certainly require all of these attributes of me, and all I can do is eek out my little "yes" to seeing how God makes me more like Him through this.

__________________ ____________ ____________ ____________ __________________
music for this season:
Good to Me- Audrey Assad
Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus- hymn
Pieces- Amanda Cook
Jesus, Rock of Ages- Christy Nockels
I Am Not Alone- Kari Jobe
King of My Heart- John Mark & Sarah McMillan
Do It Again- Elevation Worship
God With Us- Brian & Katie Torwalt

this is a jumble and I don't like it.

Well, it's been a year. Every time I've come here to write, I closed the tab. The words just wouldn't come. There was a time in my life, about four years ago (actually exactly four years ago), when I had nothing but words to type. Everything was pent up inside me and the only way to process was to write. I suppose I should be thankful that it's not that way anymore, but I developed an attachment back then, and I still haven't let go.
When I think about it, a little voice inside me says, "Bec, you're still a writer," but I've always had trouble claiming that title. It seems so lofty. However, I cannot deny that there are always words inside me, winding themselves around in my head, attempting to find clever ways out. Is that all it takes to call oneself a writer?
Anyway, I'm a good bit ashamed of this post, because it jumps around and isn't very coherent and is NOT the type of writing a TRUE WRITER would produce, I tell myself. But I'm really not here to prove myself as a writer. I'm here to share my heart, to be open and honest, and to hope that God uses it to speak to someone. I'm pretty sure this post will end up being a big jumble of thoughts and emotions, and I dread that, but I know I need to just DO THE THING. Please bear with me.

Life lately has been... different. Kinda funky. It's a lot of self-discovery and avoiding listening to the news and trying to not be so hard on myself.
Here, I must admit that I'm a basic white girl and am VERY into enneagram numbers right now. Which, I believe, is leading to some really beneficial learning-about-myself time.
For a long time, I thought I was a Two- caring, people-pleasing, helper. Then I started seeing a lot of Four tendencies in myself.
Then I listened to Annie Downs' That Sounds Fun podcast on Enneagram Fours and I spent the entire hour going, "WAIT, THIS IS ME! IT'S ME, I'M A FOUR!" and crying along with the speakers.
It's been so beautiful and refreshing and rewarding to hear my tendencies and personality traits explained through the lens of the Gospel, and how those traits can be used to serve and love well. I can't tell you how many times I've cried about that.

And I must say, it tastes so sweet and feels so freeing to realize that part of my Four-ness and Individualist-ness and highly-sensitive-person-ness is a TOOL that God has given me to encourage and empathize and spread words of Truth. My ability to cry at the drop of a baby squirrel is not a weakness, not something I should apologize for, or hide, or feel ashamed of. My ability to cry while listening to any slightly emotional story is a TOOL that God has given me to be able to relate to people and to love them viscerally (tbh, not sure if viscerally is the right word there, but it's the best I've got).

So, needless to say, that made me fall in love with the That Sounds Fun podcast all over again-- I already liked it, but now I have feelings for it. Naturally, I then consumed it like crazy for about a week. I listened to some of my favorite authors and musicians being interviewed- they all made me cry. I learned a lot from all of them, but my favorites were Robin Jones Gunn, Mandisa, and Priscilla Shirer (you should go listen). Robin Jones Gunn reminded me of the importance of friends and of God's sovereignty in all our disappointments. Mandisa spoke about learning to stop hiding from the parts of us we are ashamed of, and instead to speak truth to ourselves and those around us. Priscilla Shirer really got me- she said she was in a season of "holy unrest", and that resonated deeply in me.

I feel like all of me is in that state of holy unrest right now. I'm uncomfortable, almost itchy, and I know there's a reason for it. He's making me uncomfortable for some reason that I can't see yet. I feel the need to get up and do something new in this season... but I can't tell what season this even is. It doesn't feel like any of them. Maybe Winter? I can't tell yet. I just know I'm transitioning to a new season and He's preparing me for something.

(I must remind myself that it isn't a coincidence that these podcasts that I listened to months after they aired, out of order, spoke to me. Every one of them was provided to me by my Father. That makes me weepy, thinking about the fact that He cares enough about me and my worries and my heart to give me some truth in the form of PODCASTS.)

I don't know about you, but I find myself most frequently battling one emotion: fear. I think, if we're honest, that's true for all of us. I'm terrified of what He's preparing me for, of the season He's introducing. I feel very certain that it will be hard and He will require some things of me that I don't think I can do. I'm scared of that.
That's why it is so touching that God's perfect love drives out fear. His ability to show us love in these insane, earthy, human ways is meant to drive the fear out of our hearts and lead us to Him.

As much of my writing does, this will circle back to Casey, so if that annoys you, just skip this bit. When Casey and I first broke up in August 2014, I was terrified. I realized that I loved him and I was terrified that losing him would scar me, or he would never come back to my life. I remember many days of waking up scared that I'd lost this guy who had quickly become one of my best friends, asking God, "Do I have to give him all the way up?"
The answer, of course, was yes.
At that time, I stumbled upon the perfect song- All We Are is Yours, by Daylight Worship. I cannot tell you how many times I listened to that song in the fall of 2014. The lyrics say,

"Whatever you say, whatever the cost, all we are is Yours

Wherever we go, whenever You call, we give all our strength that Your name would be known."

That resonated so perfectly in my heart. As much as I wanted to still be Casey's girl, to still be friends, to hold onto what we had, I knew the only way to move forward was to offer "us" up to God. To open my heart to the possibility of a call that I didn't like, or a cost that felt very unaffordable. To prioritize my relationship with Him over Casey.
I'll finish the story quickly by telling you what many of you already know- Casey came back in my life eight months later with all the beautiful timing and truth only God could orchestrate. We dated for 3 more years, and when planning our wedding, the one song we knew we had to have included was All We Are is Yours. This time we had many of the same feelings I'd had years before: fear, trepidation, nervous excitement. I think every time you fully place your trust in God, those emotions are to be expected. We knew that we would do what He said, go where He called us, whatever the cost. But that's scary and our human minds had a hard time wrapping around the idea of His ability to provide for us at every twist and turn.

That's most of why I wrote the waiting and believing post, about our marriage, life in Hattiesburg, and all that God has brought about here: because I had been terrified, and my little heart relied on His love to get us through. And it did. We waited. We believed. He loved us. We survived. He drove out our fear. We grew. That was enough.

And it still is enough.
Sometimes I feel like life is happening so fast, there will never be enough time to soak up all the lovely moments that go flying past me every day. I fear forgetting these days. I will never be able to memorize every detail of Casey's face, but I need to have it memorized because there is a 50/50 chance that I will have to live without him at some point. There is not enough time in this future of beautiful things blazing past me. It literally makes my throat get tight, the fear of missing all the good stuff. It paralyzes me sometimes and lays in my chest, heavy and dark. Ironically, the fear of missing all the good stuff leads me to missing stuff, because I'm letting fear settle in me. I'm giving it a place to live. And I'm tired of doing that.

In those moments over over-awareness, I feel every little moment so deeply. Kids smiles. Tears. The sound of dragonfly wings. The silliest things. I want to use that over-awareness to cherish life, not to fear missing things. Since it's January 1, I strongly feel the need to have succinct resolutions, or a word for my year, or some sort of vision... but I don't have any of that.

I have things I feel God has spoken into my heart:
I will see salvation this year.
He will provide for the scary unknown that is the months of 2020 after May.
I can trust Him.

That's all I've got. No cute picture. I don't even have a verse yet. But I think His voice is enough.

songs that have been resonating lately:
-Barter (SSA arr. by Clausen)
-High Flight (SSA arr. by Karen Linford Robinson)
-Embracing Accusation (Shane and Shane)
-All We Are is Yours (Daylight Worship)
-Music of My Heart (Nicole C. Mullen-- man I miss her)

welcome to midnight.

Do you ever feel like your path with God is a big ol' question mark, instead of a straight line like it seems it should be? 2018 has been that for me. Don't get me wrong, it has been one of the best years of my life, but it has also been one of the most trying years in every way. This year has been wibbly-wobbly, unsteady, and constantly changing.

I found out my school was closing. I left my job. I got married. We moved to a new city. He got a job, I didn't. I was unemployed. My sister left the country for two years. I worked part-time. We found a church. We found out my mother-in-law's cancer came back. We had to make new holiday plans and traditions. We had our first holiday season without Lauren.

It's been a lot of change, and I've been a heck of a mess. Through it all, through all the tears and doubts and questioning God's purpose in this wiggly question-mark-of-a-path, I found He was building a new foundation of trust in Him. I realized He was building my faith muscle the only way it can be built- by working it out. He was training me in discipline and faithfulness. All those days of wondering where He was leading and what my next step should be were like the marathon-training before you actually take the steps down the road. I felt like I was running in place, and I kind of was, and maybe it benefitted me.

I feel like I've grown more in 2018 than I have in many years. Thinking back across all of these months, I began trying to sum up the main lessons I've learned this year. I won't ramble too much about it, but if you'd like more details or would like to talk about any of these points, I'm more than happy to hear your thoughts and questions and share mine as well. 

Some things I learned and grasped tightly to in 2018: 

• I refuse to spend my life trying to make myself skinnier or smaller or less. I will not be mean to my body just because I have been conditioned to believe that big numbers are shame-inducing and fat is bad. Body positivity and fatness are such complex issues that cannot be neatly summed up, but this year I really started to live happily in my body and be proud of it and treat it well. Fat is not bad. My body has much more purpose than pleasing others. I like to work these abs out, and also feel my belly soft and squishy when it's relaxed. This year, I finally stopped wanting my body to be something other than what it is, and it has been so freeing to not constantly live at war with myself. 
• Responding to conflict with rigidity and harshness only worsens the problem. The only 100% effective method to solving interpersonal issues is selfless kindness. Whether you're a teacher, a friend, a sister, a coworker... all the people around you want from you is kindness. The only way to soothe and resolve problems is to approach them gently and lovingly.
• God is always always always providing and caring for His flock. Even when it feels like He left. Even when you made a decision and then realize it might have been the wrong one. Even when it is down to the very last second. Even when it has been three years, and you thought that stir in your heart had died... He is growing you. He is providing you with lifelong treasures. He is teaching you the priceless gift of learning to walk with sorrow and suffering as your closest companions. He is gifting you a present, painting you a future, and redeeming you a past more beautiful than any earthly accomplishment or item you could ever covet.
• The best gift you can ever give anyone is to be a soft place for them to land. My favorite moment this Christmas (maybe this whole year) was sitting across the kitchen table from my mom, cutting up food for Christmas recipes, talking about our pain and being a little weepy together. You can take all the jewelry, books, tickets, clothes, and cute stuff away from Christmas, and that's enough for me. If you're left with time spent beside loves ones cooking and watching tv and talking about tough subjects, it was worth it all. In three years- heck, 3 MONTHS- I won't remember what I got for Christmas, but I'll remember sitting in the Alabama Theatre sandwiched between my brother and my husband, watching my parents hold hands, singing Hark The Herald Angels Sing and feeling like I was living in It's A Wonderful Life. The best parts of this year were when I was able to be fully myself, ugly parts and all, and was embraced and loved in the midst of it. 

I hope you found some hopeful lessons and grasped tightly to them, too. I hope you discovered parts of yourself that you didn't even know were so strong and beautiful. I hope you began to see another human's extraordinary magic (to steal Ben Rector's words) and felt the miracle of love. I hope your eyes were opened to areas of God's heart that are so much deeper and kinder than you were ever taught.

This year, I met some darkness that I didn't see coming. I felt, for a bit, like more of a burden than a light. You've probably felt that way before, too. Before this year ends, take some time to celebrate the small victories and pinpoints of light in your life. Don't give up. Let this new year be one that you look back on as the year everything changed for the better. On New Years Eve, I always think of these words from one of my favorite authors, Jamie Tworkowski. 

"Wouldn't it be nice if change took just a moment?

Wouldn't it be nice if it were that easy?

Midnight and we're new. Midnight and the past erased. Midnight and we're free.

It seems to come slow. It seems to be a surgery.

Forgiveness. Healing. Sobriety. Letting go. Starting over.

It seems to happen slowly over time. 

One day at a time, the choice made new each morning.

Will you fight?

Will you fight to be healthy?

Will you fight to be free?

Will you fight for your story?
Will you fight to get the help you need?

Change takes more than a moment, but maybe there's also something to this celebration of a moment, something to the way it speaks to us, something to the way we fear it, and dream it to be true. Maybe it's the most honest moment of the year.

It's possible to change.

Welcome to Midnight."

--------

I cannot close this blog without mentioning some of the art and artists who made this year lovely for me. Not sponsored, just honestly enjoyed:

books
The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas
Remember God by Annie F. Downs
Come Matter Here by Hannah Brencher
Body Positive Power by Megan Jayne Crabbe

albums
Magic by Ben Rector
Look Up Child by Lauren Daigle
CRAZYTALK by Mat Kearney
Let It Be Jesus by Christy Nockels

songs
I Was Here by Beyoncé
Pieces by Amanda Cook
The Heart That Slows Down by Canyon City
Simple Gifts (American Shaker song)

through my weary eyes, You're giving vision for Your Kingdom.

Let me start by saying I don't feel that these words are eloquent or edited or polished enough, but for some reason I feel the need to share them raw, so here they are.

     They say every person sees colors differently. If I pointed to a leaf, we would both recognize it as green, but your eyes will see it a slightly different shade than mine will. Of course, we don't have language complex enough, or adjectives specific enough, to differentiate the exact differences we see; however, I think we could all agree that this seems like a truth to us. We can't prove it, we can't explain it, but we know it must be true.

     This morning, as I was driving down the interstate, I started thinking about spiritual sight. From out of nowhere, I realized there has only ever been one human who had 20/20 spiritual vision. Only Christ was naturally able to see absolute truth, because only Christ was fully God and fully man. The rest of us, with God's power and Spirit at work in us, are walking around with glasses and contacts. We don't just see varying shades of the same spiritual activity- our eyes are blind to God's heart and spiritual truths until we choose to see through His vision. We are born blind, born into darkness, born into sin. It is only through the Light of Christ that we are able to see.

     Some of us are lucky enough to have been raised around people who had seen the Light and were able therefore to cast Light into our lives. Some of us are more like those Isaiah refers to when he says, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone." (And, sidebar: I love the wording of that second phrase. We dwelt, were comfortable staying in, a land of deep darkness. Yet He shone His light on us.) Just as we all see varying shades of the same colors, we all come from various shades of darkness. Some come from deep darkness, and some come from dusky, there's-a-lamp-on-in-the-next-room darkness. No matter the shade of darkness we come from or currently reside in, we all need a remedy.
If you've ever walked from a cozy, dark house into the brightness of midday, you know what it feels like physically to go from 'deep darkness' to 'great light'.  Maybe you've been deep asleep in a pitch black room and had a flashlight shone straight in your face. It hurts your eyes, they might water, you have to squint or shield your eyes for a solid minute until they adjust. The only remedy is to stay in the light, because once your eyes adjust to it, it stops hurting. If you go out into the light, realize its brightness, then say "Nope, going back inside," the only thing that does is delay the discomfort or pain. At some point we each have to face the light.

     For each of us, the Holy Spirit becomes the vision correction we need. Whether He is correcting nearsightedness, farsightedness, or anything in between, the beautiful part is that He isn't just the go-between for us to approach the Father, He is our teacher. He isn't just our 'glasses', He is our eye surgery. He teaches us, slowly, to see everything in the light of God's truth. To see things in the light of Christ. As He teaches our eyes how to see, He is healing them. With each opportunity to see our world and our lives God's way, He is giving us an opportunity for our impaired vision to be redeemed and healed a bit more. Each time you and I choose to step out of our darkness and filter our lives through the truth and light of God's Spirit, we become a little less impaired, and our spiritual eyes see things a little bit more like He does.

     The problem is, sometimes I don't want to do that, because that is when I see myself most clearly, and I don't like that self a whole bunch, especially in comparison to Christ's unblemished perfection. I'm realizing, however, that seeing my attempted 'righteousness' as filthy, excrement-covered rags is really good for my puffy, prideful heart. We all need that dose of humility from time to time (for me, from minute to minute). When I see my flesh and human heart as they truly are, it makes me incapable of puffing myself up above others or against Christ. It flattens me, and pushes my teary face down to the foot of the Cross. What's insane is that God is more good-filled (is that a thing? Does that make sense? I'm making it a thing) than just that. He doesn't leave us crying at our own filth. He washes us and clothes us in His true righteousness. He give us His eyes. Thankfully, just as God gives us the ability to see the things around us with His vision, when He saves us, He also gives us the ability to see ourselves as He sees us- washed by the blood of the Lamb. By His grace and sacrifice, we too stand unblemished but humbled by His goodness.

     I love that His vision makes it impossible for us to take Earth too seriously. You know how when you get self-focused, it's easy for everything good to puff you up with pride and everything bad to make you wail, "this is the end of the world! It has never been worse than this!"? I'm noticing that when I see with His eyes, it balances out the highs and lows. Keeping my eyes focused on eternity and Christ's absolute truth keeps my heart and spirit stable. When I'm viewing my life through the eyes of Christ, I see just a few things that are truly meaningful, genuine, or worth anything. It's like that old hymn says, "The things of Earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace." I wonder if seeing with God-vision is part of the easy yoke Jesus mentions in Matthew 11. "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” When I look around at this world with my self-vision, it weighs me down. It makes me feel heavy- do you feel that sometimes, too? Yet when I 'put on' God-vision, it is so much easier to rest. To see and react with gentleness and meekness and calm, soul-rest.

     My eyes and yours may see things differently, but when we view life through His eyes, all the shades and variations don't matter. His view of sin, of sorrow, and of joy don't change. He is always giving His children good and perfect gifts, like the gift of His vision. He is "the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change," James 1:17 says. The world around us may change, may bring us to our knees, may knock the air from our lungs, but He is constant. We may not like or understand the way he's working in us- that's how you know it is good and true work, when it is agonizing and uncomfortable. But the bottom line us that He has given us the ability to see clearly if we choose to. "God doesn't give smog, He gives clean air," as J. Vernon McGee says in his commentary on this passage in James (which I highly recommend listening to.)  It is up to you and me if we want to see the world through the smog of humanity or the the clear vision of Christ.


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music that inspired these thoughts:
Mighty by Commune (from which I got the title for this blog. AND the band is some of my incredibly talented friends! Search them on iTunes!)
Today by Common Ground Band
Reckless Love by Cory Asbury
You Are My One Thing by Bethel
Be Thou My Vision by Ginny Owens
I Will Lift My Eyes by Bebo Norman

I'm learning how to trust You more

hopefully, by now anyone reading this knows that I'm a teacher. And, as He has many times before, lately God has been using my students to convict and speak to me. I have this one fifth grader, we'll call her "Lucy" (that is far from her name, which is kinda fun). Lucy, I've come to find out, is rarely pleased with what is given to her. Not that she's ungrateful, it's just a "the grass is greener over there" scenario EVERY TIME she comes in my room. If we are doing group work, she wants to work independently. If we are working independently, she wants to be in a group. If we are learning a new song, she wants to go back to an old familiar one, and if we are reviewing an old song she wants a new, exciting one.
Lately she has been fixated on whether we sit on chairs or the carpet. As a third-year elementary music teacher, I feel like I'm finally finding my sweet spot of when to have students sit in chairs and when to sit on the carpet, what grades do best in what type of seating, etc. Sounds weird, but it takes a long time to figure your students out (turns out humans are complicated, go figure). Anyway, Lucy begs me, every time she enters the room, to sit on the carpet when others are sitting on chairs or vice versa. I have gotten to a point where, when she asks me "Miss Stovall, can I please sit on the carpet?", I just tell her: "Please trust my judgment."

Here's why:
I know Lucy is easily distracted, tends to be disengaged, and as I said she's rarely pleased with what is given to her. I've let her sit separately from the group a few times to test it out, and EVERY time she either disengages from class and is in her own world the whole time, or gets in trouble for distracting other students/talking during instruction. What I've found is that Lucy does best when she sits in the middle of a row of students, doing exactly the same thing everyone else is doing.
And she hates that. She hates having to go along with everyone else (psychologists, help me out here, is it just nonconformity?).
But in order to keep her from getting herself in trouble, to help her better understand my instruction, and to keep the students around her engaged, I have to make Lucy unhappy every Tuesday. She shows up at my door and asks hopefully to sit away from the group. And I tell her, every Tuesday, "Please just trust my judgment."
She doesn't like that answer. Finally this week, she asked me, "What does that mean?" I tried to explain to her that I'm doing what is best for her, even though she doesn't like it.

Are you starting to see where I'm going with this?

A lot of times I get road rage. The one thing that really bugs me is when the car in front of me is going really slowly and I can't get around them, especially if we are in the left lane. And somehow every time I get frustrated by it, something happens farther along down the road that makes me grateful for that slow car- usually a state trooper sitting with his radar gun, occasionally a crazy driver on the road that makes me realize if that slow car hadn't been in front of me, I might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time and been involved in an accident.
Every time, I hear that little, "See?" whisper from God.
"See, don't I know what's best?"

He's doing for me, in the big and little things, what I have to do for my students many times each day- make them unhappy so I can do what's best for them, because I can see it and they can't.
This season of life is one that I'm finding myself trying to just get over with. I want to rush past it and get on with the next, more exciting things. Get past the job that is exhausting and toilsome and has so little physical reward. Get past the dating-for-three-and-a-half-years-and-watching-everyone-else-get-married. Get past the renting a house and having to deal with a landlord that never really fixes anything. Get past the never cooking and always eating unhealthily because I'm so out of energy at the end of the day. Get past the not really feeling plugged into my church because I'm in that weird limbo of not-college-not-singles-not-married.
These things and many others fill my mind each day and make me want to rush forward to what must be greener grass on the other side. Rush forward from behind this slow phase so that I can accelerate down the left lane and enjoy the view.

He may be teaching me to be more engaged and invested in the present, He may be protecting me from trouble or future hurt, He may be simply teaching me to trust. I don't know the purpose. I'm not going to say I don't ask daily "WHY?" because a lot of days, I do. I'm not sure why this season feels so slow and tedious, and I don't know when it will stop feeling this way. But I am beginning to trust His judgment. I am beginning to be a little bit better of a student of His, and trying to accept that He has a wonderful reason why He's leading me this way. If I love my sweet, constantly displeased fifth grader so much, how much more so does God love me and love to do what is good for me and what brings good to me and glory to Him?

If you are with me trying to rev down the left lane and feeling stuck behind the slow car, let's thank God for providing for us in ways we don't see. Let's thank Him for caring enough to make us slow down, stay where we are, and be involved in where we are each day.

"how sweet it is to trust You, Lord
I'm learning how to trust You more.
Oh, I will trust in the name of the Lord my God." -Christy Nockels- Leaning on You, Jesus

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these thoughts brought to you by the following songs:
This We Know by Vertical Church
Leaning on You, Jesus by Christy Nockels
Jesus, Rock of Ages by Christy Nockels
You Don't Miss a Thing by Amanda Cook
Unpredictable by Francesca Battistelli
King of My Heart by John Mark & Sarah McMillan, sung by Bethel

all the things, part 3- new promises

God woke me up Tuesday morning. I know because I was startled awake and immediately heard in my heart, "Meet Me."
I don't know about you, but I rarely talk to myself in my heart. I talk to myself in my mind, but I would never say to myself "Meet me," you know? I use first person when I talk to myself, but I don't say "me". I've never really thought about that until now, and I'm suddenly getting distracted with the exact term for that, because I know there is one, but I am sadly not a grammar savant and I have no idea what it is.
ANYWAY, He said "Meet Me," and I knew it was Him. And (as much as I wish this were not the case) I am not one of those people who wakes up at 5 AM on my off days to spend hours with God. I would love to get to that point, but for now I am too undisciplined and love sleep too much for that. I can count, probably on one hand, the number of times God has woken me up with the sunrise simply to spend time with Him (though I will say He REGULARLY wakes me up when I oversleep on school days- and can we just go WOW THANK YOU! for that because that's honestly amazing that He cares enough about me and my sweet lil school to wake me up in time to get there, even when I am selfish for more sleep).
Tuesday, I didn't know where to begin. I knew I needed my bible and some paper and a pen. I knew I needed to leave my phone behind. I sat out on the deck by the lake and had no clue what passage to turn to. I'm reading through the Bible with Casey right now, and felt strongly that I didn't need to pick up where he and I had left off. So, "where to?" was my question for several minutes. I pulled out a piece of paper I'd been scribbling on yesterday, flipped it over, and started jotting down thoughts.
The one that kept coming up was "You have only begun to believe Me!"
Again, the "Me" clued me in that this wasn't MY thought.
I suddenly remembered that at the end of the school year, I had started reading Isaiah on my own and never finished, so I flipped to where I'd left that little piece of paper, and found myself in the middle of a chapter. There was a very obvious line on the page where I had stopped reading in the middle of chapter 30 because the top half of the page was underlined several places, and past that there were no markings.
"Are you sure I'm supposed to start in the middle of the chapter?"
"Read."
And here's what I found:

"He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as he hears it, he answers you. And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left."

There, in the middle of the chapter, I found a passage, or 'word' if you will, that felt so made for me right now. Just two days ago, my Sunday School teacher mentioned this passage and what a beautiful picture of the intimacy of Christ and the Holy Spirit it is. Not only is Christ one with us in our sorrow, but the Holy Spirit whispers guidance to us throughout it! And I hope y'all know how much I love it when a verse comes knocking at my heart over and over again. I love how personal that feels, and if that doesn't prove that the Word is living and active, then I don't know what does.
So even the simple fact that this was the second time I had heard this passage made me dewy-eyed.

And I think I had begun to forget how tender God is/can be. I know that working with the type of students and families I work with each day, it is too easy to feel like God isn't interested in us individually. It's easy to think that He is moving at the nice, mostly-white church across town that has money for cute children's musicals and a food pantry, and that He cares very little for a neighborhood you don't want to be in after dark. I know that is a lie, and that Satan is working hard to keep my eyes shut... but it's easy to feel like that's the way it is.

So many times these past two years, I have called, "Unfair, unfair! How could you let this be, God?" and felt like there was not much of an answer. Doubt and bitterness try to build up in my heart when Satan whispers in the silence after that question- "He must not care. He must be too busy somewhere else. I must be doing this wrong."

Somewhere I missed the part where He is being GRACIOUS to me at the sound of my cry! Not only does He hear it, He feels it. (I am a mess as I type this and realize how much He cares.) He pours grace on it. And IMMEDIATELY, as soon as He hears it, He answers it.
I don't know what that answer is or even what it sounds like, but the simple fact that it has already been uttered is such a relief.

And though my only food may be adversity and my only water may be affliction, He will not hide Himself anymore. He will not seem far off. On the days when I have nothing but tears to offer, He will be there, teaching me. He will be there, to be seen and noticed beside me. He will be there, to whisper guidance in my ear.

In the footnotes of my Bible, this verse is explained by saying, "Isaiah foresees the internalized law of the new covenant and the internal guidance of the Holy Spirit."
Y'all, Jesus wasn't even ALIVE yet, and God gave the word to this prophet that someday, our Teacher would be inside us. We wouldn't have physical stone commandments anymore, we would have His Word and Spirit within us.

As if all this wasn't enough of a promise for the upcoming school year, there is more! In verses 23-26, Isaiah describes many ways in which God will give bountifully.
"He will give rain for the seed with which you sow the ground, and bread, the produce of the ground, which will be rich and plenteous."

He has promised me plenty.

He has promised me growth. 

He has promised me roots. 

He goes on to say there will be lots of livestock that are healthy and keep the land healthy, there will be an abundance of fresh water in the mountains, and "the light of the moon will be as the light of the sun".

He has promised me light. 

In verse 29, He promises a song, and gladness of heart.

He has promised me joy and a song. 

In verse 30, He promises His voice will be heard and His arm will be seen. At the end of the chapter, He promises a fight against evil, and ultimately, victory.

And I love what it says in verse 32, that the Lord will strike his enemies "to the sound of tambourines and lyres." Guys, wouldn't you know that I use tambourines in my classroom regularly? Lyres not so much, since they're an ancient stringed instrument (similar to a harp)... but I find it HILARIOUS that He promised these things thousands of years ago, already knowing that in 2017, a little music teacher in Jackson, Mississippi would just cry her eyes out at the thought of His victory being to the sound of her little babies trying to keep a steady beat with a tambourine. My footnotes also comment that this means: "The role of His people is simply to celebrate."

I don't have to do any fighting or toiling. I can just celebrate the victory He already has!

He has promised me His victory.

Finally, in verse 33, Isaiah states that a "burning place has long been prepared" for his enemies to be destroyed. Once again, my footnotes give an astounding fact here that was the final nail for me, proving that this is the exact word God had specifically for me this morning. This 'burning place' is Topheth, "a location in the Hinnom Valley where Judeans had burned their children in sacrifice," that would ultimately be used to destroy those against God. 

He has promised me justice.

And, guys, I know this is a brutal word I'm about to say. I do not wish harm upon any of God's children, lost or found, but I believe in His justice and His purpose, and this verse makes it clear to me. 

For too long, these parents have been sacrificing their children. 

I wish I had a different way to put that, but I don't. 

This is not to say that every parent in Jackson or at my school is a terrible parent, an enemy of God, etc. What I mean is that our generation in general, and my school specifically, cares so much about making their children 'happy', or making their children 'like' them, or their own personal comfort, that they forsake basic spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical needs. Our parents sacrifice their children's well-being for their personal happiness, whatever that looks like- drugs, sex, money, notoriety, less busyness, etc. 

There are so many things wrong with their priorities, and so many ways their children suffer because of that. I could point fingers all day and list examples for pages on end, but at the bottom of all of that, our struggle is not against these parents. "For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." 

I am tired of this generational curse of parents who sacrifice their children. I am so ready for this to be burned away. I am so ready for these demons' and evil spirits' temporary dominion over this neighborhood, this city, this state, this country, this world, to be over. 

And I know God is promising that this year, that victory will continue. People will continue being freed! I may not see it firsthand yet, or ever, but I BELIEVE THAT THE FIGHT IS WON.

When I look at all the things He has said that morning, my first reaction is to draw back a little bit. It seems like too much to believe. It seems like too big a promise.
But I go back to what he said at 5:45 AM- "Child, you have only just BEGUN to believe Me!"
And here He is, offering a huge chance to believe Him and feel a little crazy and giddy for it.

I have these promises as an opportunity to continue believing God, for bigger and crazier things than I've seen yet. Pray with me. Believe with me.

(rewind to all the things, part 1 or part 2)

Scriptures and songs on my heart today:
"You know in your hearts and souls, all of you, that not one word has failed of all the good things that the Lord your God promised concerning you. All have come to pass for you; not one of them has failed." -Joshua 23:14

"Because of Your promise, and according to Your own heart, You have brought about all this greatness, to make Your servant know it." -2 Samuel 7:21

"You will say in that day: 
“I will give thanks to you, O Lord, for though you were angry with me, your anger turned away, that you might comfort me. Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation."
With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day: 
“Give thanks to the Lord, call upon his name, make known his deeds among the peoples, proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be made known in all the earth. Shout, and sing for joy, O inhabitant of Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.” -Isaiah 12

"Pull me a little closer, take me a little deeper- I want to know Your heart, I want to know Your heart.
Your love is so much sweeter than anything I've tasted- I want to know Your heart, I want to know Your heart." -Closer, Amanda Cook

"Your love's not passive, it's never disengaged, it's always present, 
it hangs on every word we say.
Love keeps its promises, it keeps its word, it honors what's sacred, cause its vows are good.
Your love's not broken, it's not insecure, Your love's not selfish, Your love is pure.
You don't give Your heart in pieces.
You don't hide Yourself to tease us." -Pieces, Amanda Cook

"Let the King of my heart be the wind inside my sails, the anchor in the waves, oh He is my song.

Let the King of my heart be the fire inside my veins, the echo of my days, oh He is my song.

You are good, good. You are good, good. 

And You're never gonna let, never gonna let me down." -King of My Heart, John Mark McMillan

"You are who You say You are.

You'll do what You say You'll do.

You'll be who You've always been to us, Jesus. 

Our hope is in You alone.

Our strength in Your mighty Name.

Our peace in the darkest day remains- Jesus.

This we know: we will see the enemy run.

This we know: we will see the victory come.

We hold on to every promise You ever made: Jesus You are unfailing!

...We trust You, we trust You. Your ways are higher than our own." 

-This We Know, Vertical Church

all the things, part 2- Gilgal

I don't know about you, but for a long time it has been difficult for me to piece together the stories and meaningfulness of a lot of the Old Testament. Sadly, but thankfully, I am just beginning to really comprehend a lot of it. I've always LOVED the book of Joshua (maybe because it starts out with God telling him like 17 times not to be afraid and I've always felt like that must mean Joshua wasn't too different from me). So bear with me here as I wade through some huge truths in Joshua, and hopefully you'll grab some along the way!

A lot of Believing God (see first post) hangs on scriptures in Joshua, which has made it come alive for me and I am soaking in so much more than I ever have before. In Joshua 4, when the Israelites first crossed the Jordan River (from Egypt/wilderness) to Gilgal (the Promised Land), the Lord gave them some interesting directions:

"When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, “Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, and command them, saying, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests' feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.... The people came up out of the Jordan on the tenth day of the first month, and they encamped at Gilgal on the east border of Jericho. And those twelve stones, which they took out of the Jordan, Joshua set up at Gilgal. And he said to the people of Israel, “When your children ask their fathers in times to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know, ‘Israel passed over this Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for you until you passed over, as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, which he dried up for us until we passed over, so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, that you may fear the Lord your God forever."

I love this. I've always been a fan of setting up 'memorial stones' in my heart (I first got the concept from Hinds Feet on High Places), and I knew it was scriptural but hadn't done much research into instances of it. I think my favorite thing about this whole Joshua/Gilgal story is the meaning of the word Gilgal: it means 'circle' or 'rolling'. They set up their circle of memorial stones there, and God started bringing His work in them full circle. They had set out on this journey out of slavery, had doubted and stopped believing God, and then had to live in the wilderness for 40 years. Finally, the years have passed, they have Joshua in charge, they have made it to the Promised Land, and God can finally finish the work He started when he brought them up out of their slavery.

  
In Joshua 5:5-7, we find this: "Though all the people who came out [of Egypt] had been circumcised, yet all the people who were born on the way in the wilderness after they had come out of Egypt had not been circumcised. For the people of Israel walked forty years in the wilderness, until all the nation, the men of war who came out of Egypt, perished, because they did not obey the voice of the Lord; the Lord swore to them that he would not let them see the land that the Lord had sworn to their fathers to give to us, a land flowing with milk and honey. So it was their children, whom he raised up in their place, that Joshua circumcised. For they were uncircumcised, because they had not been circumcised on the way."

I don't want to give away too much, but bear with me here. The Israelites have just crossed the Jordan River into the Promised Land, and now, finally, they were where God had intended for them to be long ago. BUT since they'd lived in the desert so long, those who had been born while they were there had not been circumcised (as God had already commanded). At this point in the Israelites' cycle, they are no longer slaves, they have their own Promised Land, yet they still look like the people of the land they came from. God tells them to circumcise those who were born in the wilderness so that they can once again be consecrated to (set apart for) Him.

I love the way Beth related this to our life- she talks about wearing a label of reproach from your past (I'll get to this terminology later). Beth brings a few volunteers to the stage and has them wear some letters- think Scarlet Letter. There were several, but there are only a few I remember:

One is a D for Divorced.

One is a TP for Terrible Parent.

One is C for Crazy.

That's the one that hit me. 

Many many days, I find myself thinking, "I must be crazy". Or, in the darkest moments, "What if I am and always will be crazy?" First, I dislike that language because I have many friends with mental illnesses and "crazy" puts such a negative connotation on that. Second, I have never been diagnosed with any mental illness. I have always been an anxious person (much more so as a child/pre-salvation), and a very emotional person (thank you, ENFP tendencies and artistic temperament), and "crazy" has always been my fear. I know I am frequently irrational, illogical, and overemotional.

Somewhere along the way, I let myself label Rebecca Stovall as "CRAZY".
It was the shame I liked to pull out and put on when I felt low. Because how could any 'crazy' lady be used by God? (but like, how did I forget Ezekiel in those moments?? Ha!)

Anyway, as I got further into that session, I realized this was a real problem in my spiritual life, and was a way I was giving Satan victory in my life and, consequently, my relationships. It was a way that I was living like a slave, that I looked exactly like the world that I live in- whereas Jesus calls us to be IN this world, but not OF it. We are OF Him! We are consecrated to him and it should be visible to those around us that we are different because we are His. Our hearts are circumcised. Yet I was living in my anxiety and 'crazy' as if my heart was not circumcised.

"I must be crazy" ended right there. No longer would, or could, I wear that "Crazy" jacket. The only way for that to happen was to let God do what he did to the Israelites once they reached Gilgal- circumcise my heart. I understand that can be kind of a weird/freaky thing to see as spiritual, if you don't know much about God's purpose for it, etc. but I believe it is such an image of Christ's ongoing sanctification. He cut off the outer layer of me, cut off my jacket of shame and 'crazy', so that I could look more like Him. I realized this was no small thing. In my heart and mind, I did what the Israelites had done and set up some memorial stones.

I think my favorite thing about this whole Joshua/Gilgal story is that Gilgal means 'circle', 'rolling', or even 'to end'. They set up their circle of memorial stones there, and God started bringing His work in them full circle. Then he started rolling away their reproach, circumcising them, and healing them.

"When the circumcising of the whole nation was finished, they remained in their places in the camp until they were healed. And the Lord said to Joshua, “Today I have rolled away the reproach of Egypt from you.” And so the name of that place is called Gilgal to this day." Joshua 5:8-9

When I realized the reality of my 'crazy jacket' and allowed God to remove it, my cycle started over. No longer will I go from a promise, to miracles, to unbelief, to "crazy", to repentance, and back. Yes, I will still fall and still need to repent daily and hourly. But this lifelong cycle of letting Satan hold me back so strongly has ended. Now my cycle can be promise, belief, miracles, belief, and back- with repentance throughout. I'm done with disbelief and disobedience.

I know this because I've had opportunities to exercise it and I have already seen the miracles.

During the process of Casey looking for and accepting a job, there were some people who spoke doubt over him/us. I know they didn't do so maliciously, and for the most part they meant well. But no matter their intentions, the "Maybe you should just ___," and "Are you sure ____?" almost wore us down. Other people were pouring unbelief on us, simply because they wanted us to be safe or sure or whatever it was. There was one specific night, shortly after I listened to the Gilgal session, where we just sat on his couch and held each other and cried and prayed because it looked like nothing good was coming. It looked like God wasn't working, or hadn't heard us. I remember so vividly the moment that night when His Spirit whispered in me, "No. I'm believing God." I felt like one of those guys on American Ninja Warrior going up the Salmon Wall. Like everything was trying to push us back down, to keep us from getting to where God wanted us, and I just had to keep pushing upwards, saying "NO!" to the doubts. "NO, I'm believing God!"

Not 48 hours after that, Casey received a call from one of the dozens of schools he had emailed and applied with- one of only a couple to respond to him- and was offered an interview. A week later, he had the job. Not only is it *A* job, it is *THE* job. He will be in the Jackson area. At his new school, he is surrounded by other God-lovers, one of whom is the head coach he will be working closely with. And although it wasn't in the job description, he has been offered additional opportunities to assist in coaching high school in addition to junior high! It is truly our dream come true and prayer answered better than we knew how to ask for. It is nothing short of a miracle.

Oh, and a hilarious little tidbit- the apartment complex he will be living in is the one I lived in two and a half years ago, where he broke up with me. He will be in an identical apartment, just one building over from where I lived without him in that dark season. TALK ABOUT A GILGAL! What a hilarious, amazing full circle that has become!!

At the end of the Believing God study, Beth quotes Ephesians 3:17-19 in a cute little chant. I can't find the exact translation, but in the ESV, the verses say:  "that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."

As I listened to that chant at the end of all those sessions, tears filled my eyes. Not just at the goodness of God over the whole study, but at the particular chant. I learned it when I was 9 years old. You see, when I was 9 years old, everything happened in my life- I came to Christ, I started piano lessons {and am now a music teacher}, I started gymnastics {and coached for seven years}, I went to MC for the first time {where I obtained my undergrad degree and met Casey}, and I attended the Great Kingdom Caper VBS {which sparked my love for England, and led to me studying abroad there and falling in love with it and hopefully one day returning}. That year, my Sunday School teacher Ms. Cathy taught us that chant. I realized as I listened to it that she must have learned it from doing the Believing God study and that 15 years ago, she believed God for me. When I was so young and knew so little, she did what she could with what she had and prayed for a room full of fifth graders. And even if she did that whole study and learned the chant for no other purpose but to bring Becca Stovall's 24-year-old heart to its knees on a sunny Friday, it was worth it. It means so much to me that she, along with so many others, have believed God for me along the way, when I was unable or unwilling to. What a beautiful Gilgal that is, for someone else to believe God for me until I came full circle and was able to myself.

I've always loved the number 24 and believed that somehow God meant for it to mean big things in my life. He told me at the beginning of my 24th year that this would be a big one. That it would be full of miracles, and it certainly has been so far. If nothing else, I think God knew this whole time that this would be the year of my big Gilgal. That this would be the year that I clung to Him tightest and believed Him for the smallest and biggest and deepest things.
I cannot thank Him enough for that, for being a God who finishes the circle.

(go back to all the things, part 1)

(go forward to all the things, part 3)