looking back, and looking ahead

I have felt for a long time that I have things I need to say publicly, mostly for my own processing, but for so long, the words have not come. Maybe my mind has been too full of other things.

Today, January 1, 2021, somehow still feels hopeful, and it makes me a little annoyed. It doesn't seem like it should feel hopeful. In many ways, 2020 was truly revolting. Put aside the typical, "Covid, quarantine, wearing masks all the time" that all of us faced, and I still see so much hurt and brokenness when I look back on our year. For probably a few weeks now, I've been thinking, "I don't have anything to celebrate from 2020." Quite melancholy of me, but when you have two family members die within a month of each other at the end of the year, those thoughts come easily.

This morning as I spent some much-needed time adoring the Father, I finally allowed Him to reach my heart with truth. There is so much beauty that can come, and will come, from this pain. Though Casey and I are deep in grief, and will be for quite some time, that does not mean there cannot be beauty and life and hope and peace. 

I must admit, it is occasionally really difficult for me as an Enneagram 4 to keep myself from wallowing in the depth of my emotions. It feels nice to wallow and be really, really sad sometimes. It feels relieving, somehow, to find myself "in the depths of despair", as our dear Anne-girl says... Just to fully embrace it and live in it. And while I think there is a time and place for that, I must remind myself that most of my emotions are (at least) two-sided. While I am hurt, I hope. While I am sad, I have joy. While I am afraid, I love. Not allowing myself to feel the sunny side of those deep, dark emotions is robbing myself of the gifts God has for me in the valley. 

While I grieve Mrs. Leigh Ann, I think of how hilariously she would react if she had seen what we made her Christmas tree look like this year, and I have to celebrate how special she made Christmas. While I miss her, I have to reminisce on our final Disney trip together last year and how we belted Disney songs in the car on the way there, and how we took turns pushing her wheelchair through the crowds and took advantage of how they would always send us to the front of the line on rides with her. While I wonder what our future will look like without her, I have to remember how much hope she had for our future- our careers, our future kids, our family vacations. 

While I grieve Mamaw Scitzs, I remember baking and decorating Christmas cookies with her last year, and that she gave me recipe cards in her handwriting of her cookie and icing recipes, and how that will be my favorite gift she ever gave me. While I miss her, I recall our many nights playing cards and trivia around the kitchen table, and how warm and loving her hugs were. While I wonder what parts of her I am carrying on in our family, I think about how she loved singing and serving and cooking and we all adored her for it.

All these things, every memory of them that swirls around in my head, reminds me of the complexity of life and emotion, and what a gift it is to loved by someone for every minute they know you. 

I told God recently that I knew there were gifts to be found in the darkness, but I did not feel like searching for them, so He would have to show them to me if He wanted me to find them... and I think He is. When I look back over this year of isolation, I think about the many phone calls and facetimes and virtual family game nights we would never have had without it. When I look back on a year of change, I think of the gift that was a beautiful church and city and friend group that I treasure now more than I did when I lived with them. When I look back to my hopes and goals for 2020, I slowly realize that I can check off every single box. 

I didn't know then the darkness and hurt that the year would bring, but God did. In our year of uncertainty, I became more certain of Him and His care for me. In our year of scary things, I said yes to Him and found He took the fear away every time. Sara Hagerty says, "The fight against fear is a lifetime commitment to growth in communing with God. Trust is birthed and grows as we face our fears and turn to Him... Fear wants to steal what God gives. Fear can be a barrier to communion, or our communion can dispel our fear". It's difficult to face many of my fears coming to realization, and to somehow keep hoping for the next step. It would be easier to give in to the fear and harbor it. However, every time I have harbored my fear this year, it has become a barrier in my life. But when I turned to look at Him in the midst of my fear? "The things of earth {grew} strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace."

If you, too, have had a year of loss and hurt and fear, I hope you turn to Him. He is the best at holding it, not dismissing your emotion, but showing you the other side of it-- the excitement, peace, and stability it can bring when you process it and trust His leading. Today, I am celebrating some small things despite the darkness that is lurking:

- I memorized my first chapter of the Bible this year and God has buried it in my heart and used it time and again to minister to me.

- I read some really good books this year even though I did not meet my meager goal of 20 books

- I spent a lot of time with Casey and have never liked/loved him more than I do now

- I built up some friendships and maintained some friendships and lost some friendships, and all of those things feel right

- God gave us a new city, new home, and new jobs in the middle of a pandemic, and we love it more than we hoped we might

- I discovered the longwalks app and have been mindfully journalling with friends and it's been lovely

There is good around the corner, friends. Even in the pain. Even in darkness. Even in death. God is holding 2021 and leading us along.

_________________________________________

some song lyrics that keep coming to mind:

"God leads his dear children along- some through the waters, some through the flood, some through the fire, but all through the blood. Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song in the night season and all the day long."

"after all this has passed, I still will remain. after I've cried my last, there'll be beauty from pain. though it won't be today, someday I'll hope again, and there'll be beauty from pain. You will bring beauty from my pain."

"Be still, my soul, when dearest friends depart, and all is darkened in the vale of tears- then shall you better know His love, His heart, who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears. Be still, my soul, your Jesus can repay from His own fullness all He takes away."

"I will build my life upon Your love, it is a firm foundation. I will put my trust in You alone, and I will not be shaken."

the waiting and believing

"My hands hold safely to my dreams,

Clutching tightly, not one has fallen.

So many years I've shaped each one,

Reflecting my heart, showing who I am,

Now you're asking me to show what I'm holding oh so tightly.

Can't open my hands, can't let go-

Does it matter? Should I show You? Can't You let me go?

Surrender,

Surrender, you whisper gently.

You say I will be free,

I know but can't You see

My dreams are me?

You say You have a plan for me,

And that You want the best for my life.

Told me the world had yet to see

What You can do with one that's committed to Your call

I know, of course, what I should do,

That I can't hold these dreams forever.

If I give them now to You, 

Will You take them away forever, or can I dream again?"

I can't tell you how many times I listened to these lyrics of Surrender by Barlow Girl during my high school years. For some reason, my 16-year-old-self felt like I was surrendering a lot by not getting to date guys I liked, or do 'cool' teenager stuff. Then, a few years later when I returned from my semester abroad in London (very much against my will... I should never have agreed to round-trip airline tickets), the lyrics resonated in a new way. Living in London and teaching there became a dream that I held dear and begged God to fulfill, but eventually had to surrender as well. Then, of course, there was the time Casey and I broke up. That was an entire castle of dreams built up that I had no choice but to surrender. Since we got back together all those years ago, there hasn't been much surrendering of dreams. Everything came pretty easily, and while my job was definitely a challenge, life didn't require much surrender. It continued like that for a long time, until this summer. 

When Casey found out he got accepted to USM's Sport Management grad program, we started praying for God to lead us to the right home, church, friends, and jobs. The home was a pretty clear and easy decision. Church has taken a while, but we've finally been going to the same one regularly (whenever we're in town on a weekend, which is not much). Friends are still a process. The job part came simply for Casey, but has felt so convoluted for me. We were blessed when Case was offered a grad assistantship- it was such a miracle, and made me feel so sure that God was preparing such a miracle job for me, as well. I had a couple really hopeful interviews, but nothing ever turned out well for me. 

Naturally, I got angry. Casey started work, then class, and I was still sitting at home every day bringing nothing to the table but occasional baked goods. I gave up on a full-time option and started trying to sub. August passed. Then September. I was waking up every morning at 4:30 trying to check subbing availability, and nothing was coming my way. I subbed two days total.  It felt like God was intentionally keeping me from steady work, and I was struggling with it more each day. We were (slash are) majorly poor, surviving only off the savings we had wisely accrued while teaching, and generous wedding gifts (prepaid rent and a lump sum of cash) from our parents. My emotions and heart condition varied from day to day. Some days I was borderline depressed. Some days I could ignore it and pretend I was ok. Only occasionally was I actually trusting God and at peace with this waiting He'd forced me into. Casey, of course, has been so loving and supportive through every bit of this, but I have struggled to accept it much more than he has. 

Finally, in the beginning of October, I was offered a long-term sub position at one of the best elementary schools in the state. It has truly been an answer to prayer, in more ways than just financially (though that has been the most pressing one). Somehow, though, I have still felt unsettled and am concerned about the rest of this year, and next school year. I worked so hard for my degree, and I love teaching Music so much, it's hard to accept that there may be a chunk of my life where I just don't teach Music. I've always felt and believed that God led me to Music Ed for a reason, and that He placed me in the schools I've taught in so far. This season has worn me down so much, and made me question even those beliefs in God's plan for me that always seemed so logical and steady before. A few days ago, 'Surrender' played on my drive to school, and touched my heart all over again. I don't think I'd even realized how much I had tied my self-perception to these dreams I've had of growing into a better Music teacher, and someday getting to be that teacher who's been at the same school for 25 years. I felt like those dreams WERE me, so I felt like this season not fulfilling them meant that I was losing part of myself, or not being who I'm supposed to be.

A few months ago (a bit after Easter), our pastor shared a beautiful analogy of how God reveals things to us, which I frequently think back to. He first shared a video of his grandchild hunting Easter eggs. In the background, you could hear the dad, behind the camera, saying, "Look over here! Do you see that egg?". When the toddler couldn't find the egg that was hidden in plain sight, the mom would go stand beside it and point down to it, saying, "Look, buddy, what's this?" until the child waddled over and gleefully grabbed the egg to show to his dad. 

You can probably see the analogy coming. He remarked that we often feel like God is hiding explanations or plans from us, when really He is standing over some Easter eggs saying "Look over here! Open this up and look what I have for you!". The 'eggs' are hidden in plain sight, but sometimes our infancy keeps us from recognizing what God has put before our eyes. 

I love the way Amanda Cook references it in her song Pieces:

"You don't give Your heart in pieces.

You don't hide Yourself to tease us."

God's delay to lead me where I think should be led says nothing at all about His sovereignty or ability to bring good to me, and says everything about how He wants me to stop questioning and trust Him. Recently, I saw a post from one of my favorite writers + instagrammers, Sara Hagerty, that felt like it was made especially for me. Every day she posts a "daily adoration" recognizing a Scriptural attribute of God. This one was based on Psalm 62:1- (You can find the full post here)

And man, if He hasn't been delaying and growing my belief these past few months. He's been leading me to surrender some old dreams that maybe aren't lifelong dreams, or maybe they just aren't for this season. He's been doing a lot of uncomfortable things- things that cause me to be vulnerable, needy, and dependent on Him and my family. I'm not going to tell you I've liked it, or that I'm happy with it all the time... but I am telling you that the waiting and believing God is a good place to be. 

all the things, part 1- a land of milk and honey

At the beginning of the summer, I began listening to Beth Moore's 'Believing God' study on CD. I thought it would be a nice thing to listen to on my way back and forth from Meridian (because we know I couldn't survive the summer without seeing Casey as frequently as possible).

Now, let me rewind a bit before I get into all the good stuff. My mom and sister-in-law did the Believing God study at our church this past Spring, ultimately leading to my sister-in-law's salvation!! This was a huge miracle for our family. We have been praying for April since meeting her in May 2010. In fact, when I was in college, my best friend and I claimed Wednesdays as our prayer days and every morning as soon as we woke up, we prayed for the salvation of two of her family members and two of mine (one being April!) This became something we clung to and believed for so much that we lovingly call them "Miracle Wednesdays" because we know that God answers sincere, constant prayers, and we know that miracles have and will come out of this! Her sister, whom we had been praying for, accepted Christ a couple years ago- we cried over that. Then when April accepted Christ this past Easter, the first person I texted was Meg. All I could do was cry. Our many many many prayers had brought about not one but TWO miraculous salvations!

So naturally, when this study was part of what brought about a miracle for us, Mom wanted to share the goods! She passed the CD's along to my sister, who listened to them all, then passed them to me. At that time, Lauren had just begun the process of applying to become an overseas missionary, and that whole set of events has been nothing short of miraculous!

The short version is:
She had read a book that reawakened her desire for overseas missions. She was on a walk and ran into a sweet older couple who live near us. They started talking and realized they were all Christians, and Lauren shared with them her recently reawakened desire. The wife said, "Well, isn't that amazing, my husband literally wrote a book on that!" and they gave her the book. She read it and felt convicted to start researching ways to do overseas missions. Come to find out, that man was on the International Mission Board for 40 years and was the president of it for 17. She began her application to the IMB, has since finished the application, and is in the long waiting period until she finds out in October/November if she will be placed overseas and would leave in January if that happens. Somewhere during the application process, she found out she would be losing her job, as she is a teacher and they could not give her a contract for half a year. She struggled and cried and prayed, and a few weeks later, her headmaster came to her and offered her a job for just the Fall, with the option to stay with them for the Spring too if she doesn't receive an IMB placement!!

Then, before we could even bother to worry about "What if Lauren leaves in January and I can't pay the rent by myself and have to move out?", Ben's wonderful girlfriend Michaela made the decision to move to Clinton and asked if she could move in with us since we have a spare bedroom. The answer was a quick and obvious YES!

And at the same time all of this is happening, Casey graduated college and began hunting for grad school positions/a job. He didn't really know what direction to go, but he took the GRE and did well on it. However, as we prayed and walked through it, God kept closing all the doors on grad school. So, Casey decided to work on obtaining alternate route certification to teach middle/high school. He emailed and emailed and emailed, signed up for the Praxis, and prayed his little guts out. He finally got a reply from a school hunting a middle school Social Studies teacher and basketball coach- exactly what he wanted. AND the school is in the Jackson area (huge sigh of relief from us both) He had a couple interviews, took and passed the Social Studies Praxis, and was offered the job! Another miracle (that you'll hear more about later)!

So, in the midst of all this wonderful, exciting change, I find myself listening to this Believing God study. It seemed unrelated at the time, but I now see how perfectly and powerfully timed it was. And boy, did I underestimate it.
The study is based on five core truths:
1. God is who He says He is
2. He can do what He says He can do
3. I am who God says I am
4. I can do all things through Christ
5. God's Word is alive and active in me

It goes back to Old Testament truths that God means for us to claim metaphorically (you know, like when he promised the Israelites the Promised Land. Obviously he doesn't want us to go claim the Promised Land literally, but spiritually and emotionally and mentally, He has purposed for us to live free from spiritual slavery and in a place flowing with good things!).

As soon as I started listening to this study, I knew God meant for me to claim my little school as my Promised Land for this season.
I struggle, some days, to accept where God has me right now. Clinton, Mississippi seems so small and meaningless. My job/school/students wear me down so much. It seems like, "surely it shouldn't be like this." But even in listening to the first CD, I knew- this dingy old elementary school is my Promised Land right now. I can either be afraid of the "giants" and unlikeable things in it (Numbers 13:25-33), or I can embrace it and inhabit a land flowing with milk and honey.

Deuteronomy 6:3 says, "Hear therefore, O Israel, and be careful to do [the things God commands]*, that it may go well with you, and that you may multiply greatly, as the Lord, the God of your fathers, has promised you, in a land flowing with milk and honey" *wording mine

Guys, have you ever really processed that bit? A land flowing with milk and honey? I think it means more than just God providing for their physical needs and wants. I think it means more than Him just sustaining them and giving them something sweet on top of it.
Just think about some of the health benefits of milk and honey real quick:

Milk:

• strengthens bones
• contains protein that promotes muscle growth and repair
• contains phosphorus that helps strengthen bones/muscles and give energy
• contains potassium, which reduces blood pressure
• is used to nurse babies and nurse sick people back to health until one is ready for solid food

Honey:

• is packed with antioxidants and helps the immune system
• promotes healthy sleep
• heals wounds and ulcers
• is a natural allergy relief
• helps maintain healthy weight
• has antibacterial properties
• enzymatically produces hydrogen peroxide, which cleans out wounds (which is AMAZING to me and you can find more info in studies like this one.)

I hope you look at these facts from a spiritual perspective- if you haven't yet, go think about them. They blew my mind. God placed His children in a land flowing with two things that would give them everything they needed, not just as food, but as things to heal and grow and strengthen them. You know there had to be some Israelite who was just dreadfully allergic to some plant out there in the Canaanites' land. Can you imagine how psyched he was when he discovered honey helped his allergies?! 

I'm sure his cry was similar to what mine has been lately:
"God, how can you have the foreknowledge to see that this would happen and care enough to provide a solution to it?" But He does!

I have no doubt in my mind that God has a Promised Land for each of us- a place where we are free from slavery and sin, where we can live in His abundance and provision.
I know that all it takes to find it is a longing heart, prayer, and some separation from all the busyness that tries to distract.
I know that God used this study in Mom's, April's, Lauren's, and my heart(s?) to bring us to each of our Promised Lands and produce growth, faith in Him, and miracles! If you are interested or looking for something, I highly recommend listening to/participating in the Believing God study by Beth Moore (I am not being compensated in any way for saying that!). Don't get me wrong- I know the only answer to our hurts and troubles is Jesus, and no study or words from a human can rescue us or be our answer. I firmly believe that. I also firmly believe that this study is anointed by God and full of His Truth and is absolutely a tool He will use to draw you to His heart.

I don't know where you are spiritually today, but I hope you're His, and I hope you're finding your Promised Land. I hope you're hearing His promises and believing them and looking for miracles.
And if you aren't there yet, I hope God uses this to poke your heart and invite you to believe Him- not just for salvation or ongoing sanctification, but for big, scary miracles. For something that seems too good to be true. For a land of milk and honey.

(all the things, part 2-Gilgal)

(all the things, part 3- new promises)

sept. 15, 2016

Earlier this week, on the ride back to Clinton from the funeral, Casey was talking to me about some things filling his thoughts lately. Shawreth, senior projects, the regular stuff; he mentioned encouraging people to call a loved one. He was really just sharing his rambles with me (which I adore) and didn't realize it impacted me, I'm sure. But I started thinking, ...gosh. I haven't called someone, just to talk, in ages (besides my parents cause they are basically my therapists).
And just after that God slipped my dear old friend Dee in alongside me. So I called her.
Big, wonderful God-things are filling her heart and life, and it was the most refreshing thing to just honestly share our realities for a few minutes. At the end of the call, she asked me about a certain way God has stretched me lately, about the uncomfortability of it. I don't think I had even processed it until that moment that I was asked to summarize with cohesive thoughts.
It was one of those moments that I didn't fully realize what I was saying was a truth in my life, until I started saying it.

Uncomfortable has been the "thing" lately. Teaching makes me uncomfortable. Loving students and strangers and family and old friends and Casey makes me uncomfortable. Sharing my heart and being utterly vulnerable, and expecting no response, makes me uncomfortable.
I really don't know the point of this yet. I just see it's been a theme this past month or so. There have been so many things and situations and convictions that have made me uncomfortable, in the good and holy way, that I have had to choose to do or accept. I suppose I didn't HAVE to, but His Spirit working in me chose them.
Every time, I dawdled. I would rather be comfortable.
I thought of excuses. I thought of possible alternatives. I thought of all the awful things that might happen if I chose the uncomfortable thing (spoiler: none of them happened).
But, because of God's grace and breath in me, I was able to wrestle my flesh and pin it down for long enough to say "OK GO, GOD!"
Holding my breath while the needle plunged in.
Every time, a shot of antidote.
Anti-Becca. Anti-sin. Anti-pride. Anti-fear.
The Virus of Me weakens a bit each time.

Funny that when these seasons ebb away, I always think I'm done. I always forget that there are more corners of me to be swept out, more sickness to bleach away, more virus to eradicate.
More Him to replace me.

I've been chatting with one of my best friends from high school about a similar lesson she's learning. She said something that stuck to me and I want you to hear it too:

"I am so thankful that God relentlessly pursues us and will not allow us to stay in patterns that keep us from seeing His face."

My comfort bubble has been keeping me from seeing His face. This pattern of only doing things that feel nice and known and familiar is only keeping me stagnant and sick. It's only letting the infection grow.

So, I'm bringing a little more rigor and love into my classroom. I'm exercising. I'm making lists of people whose voices I want to hear and faces I want to see, and I'm making plans to do something besides sit at home after a long day of school. I'm making myself turn off Netflix and stop falling asleep watching Parks and Rec. I'm trying to make my prayers more conscious and not subconscious. I'm eating food that isn't processed.
These things are all slow, humiliatingly slow, processes for me. But they are baby steps. They make me uncomfortable,  but they make my heart and mind and soul and body healthier.

A couple weeks ago I ran into my favorite college professor at church. He asked me what I was doing to rid myself of the "stress" and "free radicals" and "toxins". Hesitatingly, I said, "well.....nothing."

So here is the start.
The something after the nothing.
The first bout of shots for this virus.
The first real attempt at identifying and eliminating the toxic things that attach themselves to me every day- literally and metaphorically.
It will be slow, but it will be consistent.
It will be small, but it will keep going.
It will be uncomfortable, but it will make me healthy.

What about you? Can anybody out there raise your hand and say, "me too," or "I've been there!"? Are there patterns in your life keeping you from seeing His face?
Show me your sickness. Get it out so you can heal. Come with me to get the Antidote.

the place I know You well

I find You here in a familiar place. A soft, hollowed out piece of metaphorical earth.
Askew on my woolen picnic blanket. Well-worn flip flops. Dimpled thighs. Pages fluttering in the springy evening breeze.

This is a place I know You well.
This is a place I have met You so often.
This is the place I held my broken heart up to You daily, for a time, and hoped You were crafting gold. I wanted you to be blowing glass and planting bulbs and resurrecting dead hopes.
And You did all of that and more.

You always called me Little Bird in those days, and some afternoons spent in that hollowed and hallowed spiritual ground, I swore that if I held my ear to the ground long enough I heard Your heart beat for us. "Lub dub lub dub" became "love Me, love them". It seemed like if I stared at the wind moving the branches until I couldn't see them for the darkness of nightfall, that I could see the whispery hem of Your goodness moving around me. Only the fringes. But I could see them and hear echoes of Your grandness.
...
...

These days I hardly know what to call this season, this place. I guess it's one of those things that doesn't know its own name just yet. But I'm glad my Jesus is personal and close and whispers these little reminiscences to me when I wake in the dark more often than I wake to daylight. I'm glad He carries my heavy heart every day and is moving even in my inability to pick up my cross daily, even in my lack of words to pray.

Anne of Green Gables said, "If I really wanted to pray I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or into the deep, deep, woods, and I'd look up into the sky- up, up, up- into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer."
And most days in this season, I feel a lot of prayers. Frequently I even feel them without saying them. Maybe you theologians and superChristians have words on why this is not good or unhealthy- I'd love to hear them. But I'm going to keep on feeling my prayers, at least for now. I believe my God likes to lean his forehead against mine and feel my weights with me and help me breathe and forgive and carry on.

Like today. Today I received three letters of encouragement. THREE! All on the same day. (All from actual people but ultimately from Him. Ultimately yet another "be weak and carry on" because I am not yet good at refraining from relying on my own strength.)
I also witnessed the most gorgeous sunset tonight from my favorite view in Clinton AND
MY SUPER HOT INCREDIBLE LOVING, INTELLIGENT, MAN-AFTER-GOD'S-HEART BOYFRIEND was elected president of his service club at our school (which is kind of huge and I am so elated with him and proud of him so I had to brag!)

Life is dark and heavy most days this season. It's rarely light or simple or free of spiritual warfare. Satan just doesn't like the grace that God is pouring out over me & my sweet little school, honestly. But it is so rich and vibrant and good and I am beyond-words-BLESSED to have Casey and my incredible family and friends and love-letter-writers in my corner. To have seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living (and what felt like the land of the dying). To be serving a Lord who empathizes and intercedes and whispers. To be able to look into the sunset and know He isn't done with us yet. And maybe one day I will look back on this place as another one where I knew Him well.

heart stuff

I know I post a lot of sappy things about Casey, but bear with me for a second while I gush. I promise I have substantial things to say in just a second! My reasoning is that I'm only gonna fall in love once so I might as well be as obnoxiously sappy about it as I can while it's all so new and wonderful.

Gush: Casey far exceeds my grandest hopes of what I might someday end up with. Like many girls who were raised in a southern baptist church, I had my little list of expectations and hopes and he blows them all out of the water. He slow dances with me while in line for hot dogs at baseball games. He plays hide & seek with me in Target. He lets me walk down the laundry detergent aisle because he knows I like to just walk down it sniffing. He holds my hands and blesses our meals together. He always encourages me to "be a light" in the workplace, and his constant prayer is for us to keep finding ways to love each other and Christ better. He tells the lady at Baskin Robbins that I changed my mind and want two scoops instead of one, when I am too passive to ask for it. He hugs me tight when I cry, wipes away my tears, and always tells me to stop apologizing for myself. He listens to and cherishes my rambling opinions and thoughts. He kisses my tired eyelids after a long day of school. He takes me on roller coasters that terrify me- literal and metaphorical- because he knows in the end I'll be better off for it or enjoy it, or maybe both. He leans his forehead against mine and sings the boy part of Baby It's Cold Outside in perfect harmony to my girl part, in the middle of the bike section at Academy. He sits on the wooden benches of Barnes and Noble reading aloud poetry with me. He looks at me That Way and holds my face in his hands and LoveQuirks like mad. And these are just some of the things that I remember off the top of my head. Casey is too too good to me and I'm obviously just the most twitterpated little thing you ever did see.

Obviously there is a lot that Casey does and is that I love dearly.
Sometimes, though, people what to know what about Casey I most treasure, and that is a hard things to decide on. But I finally, over the past few months, have found my answer.

When people ask me what I love most about Casey or what most attracts me to him, I always tell them about how he embodies Christ as He is described in Zephaniah 3:17. "The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love; He will rejoice over you with singing."
If you want me to expound on that, ask me and I will, but this is not the time.

I love how Casey's heart reflects my Savior's. I love that he is a physical representation of Christ to me, that they way he cherishes me and bears burdens with me draws me closer to Christ. The problem is, Satan hates it. My flesh hates it.
It is excruciatingly difficult for someone you adore to just so tenderly and gently reveal your own heart-gunk to you. You might think that's dumb, it shouldn't be painful since they're being so gentle about it. But no. The simple loving manner used is almost 'burning coals'-esque. It somehow is worse when he's loving and humble about it (which he always is and UGH how annoyingly wonderful to have someone so freaking patient and meek pursue my heart daily) because it makes my gunk be revealed more realistically, and alllllllll the gunk comes out.

Sometimes for me the best way to clean out my gunk is to just announce it and share all the gruesome sin-details of it all so here goes.
My heart gets very proud, on both ends. It never sits stably in the middle, in selfless humility, but drastically wavers between arrogant pride and inadequate pride. Between "I am everything" and "I will never be anything". Really it just centers around Becca so dang much. Pride tricks me cause really any kind of thinking about me before/above others and Christ is pride, but that's not really how it's billed. We're led to believe that arrogant self-reliance is the only form of pride but my heart is the prime example of there being two sides to the coin.

Lately, there has been so much realizing how gunky and prideful my heart gets. I'm pretty sure that half the time Casey doesn't even realize he's being a vessel for God's conviction. He is so often a mirror-holder to me that helps me compare my heart to the Lord's and stop comparing myself to other humans.

This morning in church I was reminded of the deep truths of Proverbs 4. Most of us who were raised in church are familiar with Prov. 4:23, but how many of you know the verses that precede and follow it?

“My son, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Let them not escape from your sight; keep them within your heart. For they are life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh. Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life. Put away from you crooked speech, and put devious talk far from you. Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you. Ponder the path of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. Do not swerve to the right or to the left; turn your foot away from evil.” Proverbs‬ ‭4:20-27‬ ‭ESV‬‬

A while back I was struck, upon reading this passage, by the various parts of the body/life that this addresses. This morning, I was reminded of those realizations once again.
When Solomon tells us to pay attention to his WORDS, he tells us they are LIFE and HEALING to "all their flesh". These words that follow are directed at various parts of our flesh that can easily lead our HEART, or spirit, astray.

Crooked speech & devious talk: someone please explain to my why it is so much easier to engage in judgmental thoughts and words as an adult in the workplace. Is it just teachers? Is it just because I'm new to this and insecure and feel the need to judge others more harshly so that my failings don't seem so glaring? Or is it just humans in general, and I've been in such conservative circles I've avoided it this far? Either way I hate it. I hate feeling the drive to gossip or use less-classy language. But it's so present and it's such a struggle for me, which is weird and humiliating, cause it's never been much of a thing I dealt with before.
But sure enough, "crooked speech and devious talk" drag my heart down. However, when I let my mouth overflow kind and grace-filled words, my heart is refreshed constantly.

Eyes & gaze: this one is a no-brainer. Where your eyes focus, your heart focuses. If my eyes focus on others' strengths and weaknesses compared to my own, my heart sits stagnant in pools of self-love, pride, and comparison. If my eyes focus on others' achievements and things that I lack, my heart surges with jealousy and envy. If my eyes focus on my own inadequacy, my heart slumps into self-deprecation (which is also pride) and negativity. No matter what my eyes focus on, eventually my thoughts and heart will center there too. So I must be constantly asking myself: what are my eyes fixed on? What do I spend my time on? What do I invest mental and emotional energy in?
One of my all-time favorite verses, Philippians 4:8, gives us the key to centering our thoughts around Him.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
‭‭it's as if God knew Becca would need these recommendations and gave them to Paul back when he was writing to the Church in Philippi. He knew my eyes would focus on everything but Him. He knew my heart would get distracted by what I let fill my vision. So He said, "okay. Instead, here's a list of things you should think about and fill your mind with: true things. noble things. right things. pure things. lovely things. honorable things. just things. commendable things. excellent things. and things worthy of praise. dwell on those."
Because the only things that exemplify those traits are gifts He showers, so ultimately we are looking back to Him. We are fixing our eyes and hearts on His goodness. "I steady my heart on the grounds of Your goodness," says Audrey Assad in her song Good To Me. That is the only way to combat wandering, distracted gazes- steadying our hearts on His firm foundation of goodness and righteousness.

Feet & their ways: where I go and what I actively do has so much effect on my spirit. What am I walking toward? What am I actively doing? Do my feet walk to my bed (to watch more Netflix) more frequently than they walk to others' aid? Am I honoring the temple of the Lord that my soul lives in? Immediately after sharing with us what we should fill our minds with, Paul says in Philippians 4:9
“What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.”
Christ has taught and given and spoken and shown us everything we need to walk with Him and abide with him. It's now a matter of putting into practice what we have already learned and received and heard and seen.
It's not necessarily a matter of 'discipline' to follow Christ actively (though it often requires discipline to be effective and efficient as His ambassador). It's a matter of the heart. It's about setting my heart on the "Christ" setting and not letting my flesh distract me or delay me from that.

The great thing is, this is not a work I can do. It's a work I can invite and put into practice once it starts, but I cannot initiative a move of God. Only He can. Only the Spirit working in me and weeding the garden of my heart and filling me daily can change the direction of my eyes, thoughts, words, feet, and heart.

Someone once asked Charles Spurgeon, "Why do you have to be filled with the Spirit?" To which he responded:
"Because I leak."

I'm realizing that I leak a lot. And I rarely fill my heart back up with Him. And that's where all the problems start.
BUT I'm forever grateful to be surrounded by people who care to point out my leaks and hold up a mirror to me and fill me back up with His truth + grace.

on pilot lights, being a garden, and springtime.

It’s testing month at school, which means every day this past week I have had a few hours each morning to just sit and breathe and think. Which you know, if you get me at all, is quite dangerous for me.

But last week it was beneficial.

“Somewhere along the way, my dears,” (she says, quoting a favorite musical just because her brain turns everything into song) my little flickering flame inside me got turned up, I think. For a long time I relied on the pilot light of my spiritual gas heater to keep me okay. I know it’s not a good consistent state to be in, but I also think it was a necessary phase and for a while it was the best I had, so it was good enough. But somewhere in those months of relying on the pilot light to warm the house, God refilled the tank and turned the heat up. And I had this realization the other night that my soul, at some point, settled into a toasty 4 on the heat dial and is thawing out the numbed extremities.

Please understand me; this is not my “I’ve made it and have everything together, guys, so you can stop trying to help me” speech. I am far far far from making it and having things together (the very thought of which ever being possibility for me literally makes me laugh). I don't think I will ever stop needing people and flailing around in life a little bit (or a lot-tle bit) as I go.

This is simply a public recognition that the clean-up work in my heart, the renovation, the Big Remodel, the turning me into His cathedral is happening. It has been, little by little, unrecognizably so, until a glimmer caught my eye and I took a peek back into the land I’ve been trekking these past three months.

There He said, “We’re moving. Do you see that we’ve moved? You’re thawing out. Your weeds are being pulled. I am tending you every day, my little garden, and Spring is on her way to us. Life is ebbing in.”

Sure enough, as I looked down into my own often-too-small heart-garden, I saw He had expanded it a size or two (enlarge my borders, Lord! including my Grinch heart that needs so badly to grow!). I saw He had planted a few things- I know not what they are or will yield yet- and the little bumps under the soil promised fruit soon enough. I saw a few more holes in the ground where the deep-rooted weeds had been excavated; I saw new weeds trying to settle into the newly fertile soil.

Rain and sun that fall into me are nurturing all they touch, and He reminds me we- He and I- must be careful to tend this garden every day. We must be careful to arise early and pull the new weeds out before they have a chance to be nourished by the smiling sun or crying rain.

The cathedral has a garden! I love that! I love cathedrals with courtyards and gardens and life!

It’s as if my heart is literally undergoing spring cleaning, and I’ve been lathered up and scrubbed down and rinsed off, and set by the nice, toasty, 4-on-the-dial heater. What a tremendous feeling.

Recently, I’ve been reading a few books that are changing my life (as good books tend to do) and that I think have induced this Springtime.

1. LOVE DOES by Bob Goff. It’s unexplainable how this book both wrecks and revitalizes me at the same time. I don’t understand it. It’s obviously God.
2. Parables of the Cross by Isabella Lilias Trotter. Honestly, this book (or pamphlet, I suppose, as it’s only 23 pages) makes me feel like such a Christian hipster because NO ONE has heard of it. Literally no one. I discovered it because Elisabeth Elliot referenced it in her life-wrecker, Passion and Purity, and it was just a few dollars on Amazon, so I ordered it and wow. Just get it and don’t try to read it all in one day. It’s too deep and rich.
3. If You Find This Letter by Hannah Brencher. I feel like this one explains itself. It’s her story, her weighty words, her heart in a book. So far I have cried every time I’ve picked it up and it is astonishingly beautiful.
4. Winged Life by Hannah Hurnard. Her first book, Hinds’ Feet on High Places has always been one of my favorites- it’s an allegory centered around the journey of Much-Afraid as she follows the Good Shepherd’s leading to the High Places. And man, Winged Life doesn’t disappoint either. So far it’s teaching me a lot about what Love really means and goodness knows I can always use more of that.

if you couldn’t tell, there’s really one main theme in these four books that are transforming my heart and mind:

LOVE.

Which is great because it just confirms in me that this is His work. Because He is Love, so of course it makes sense that the books and many other facets of entertainment in my life right now are just pointing me back to Love- even the ones that seem like they would never be able to teach me anything about real Love. Funny how He can turn anything into a window.

While I am learning about Love and being bowled over by my God at least four times a day, I’m in need of prayer and support and encouragement and life-giving truth.

Here’s how I need you to pray for and with me, beloved people:

Pray for consistency. Pray that I would have a new sticktoitiveness (which I rarely have the motivation to find in a lot of cases). And pray that I would stop making this about me and just abide.

We all know I tend to be a person that throws herself into things. For the most part, I’m an all-or-nothing kind of person.

That has its downfalls, certainly. I tend to give up on things: I start projects and never finish them, I start books and stop ⅔ of the way through, and when I start a new friendship/relationship I either give up too soon or go a little overboard showing that person love. It also means I tend to ramble, as I’d rather give too much information than not enough. Additionally, people think I’m constantly exaggerating. Granted, I exaggerate all the time (irony). But in the moments when I’m not exaggerating and I’m genuinely IN LOVE with a lovely plastic box of perfectly yellow paper clips, it’s easy for my words to mean less than I want them to, because so often I use the same exaggerated words when I’m trying to make a point or tell a story, and now all the sudden no one understands just how much a tiny clear box of yellow-coated metal thingys can cheer me up.

However, I am also beginning to see a lot of strengths in my throw-myself-in-with-no-looking-back personality. I’m GREAT at starting projects or books or road trips. I love easily (or maybe ‘quickly’ would be more accurate, because GEEZ don’t I know that real love should never be easy) and wholly and, if need be, fiercely- that also means I tend to forgive quickly. Everything in my world is rose-colored, and I don’t even need glasses for that; it’s just constantly rose-colored and I love it because rosy hues are probably my favorite of all the hues.

(she realizes even in her explanation of how she loves easily that she proves how sickeningly optimistic and enjoying-life-at-all-times she tends to be)

And here comes the part where I know I need the prayers and intercession::

I throw myself into projects and relationships and even God’s Work.

And then when it starts getting kinda hurt-ey, when I’m getting cramps in my Faith muscle or when someone hurts my heart or when I realize I still have to go back and edit and re-write the entire paper, I stall.

I find it really really tough to stick to it. To be consistent. To be a train and chug ahead.

I say, “eh, good enough” and turn the paper in because it’s 4 AM and if you include the bibliography it’s 8 pages, so that should pass, right? or because I’m a pretty good person and God loves me and there are other, better Christians out there who can do it better than I can anyway. or because that was the third time they have spoken hurtful words to me in the past month, and I don’t need people like that in my life bringing me down.

“Brothers and sisters, this should not be.”

I need to do the paper to the best of my ability. I need to do what I feel God tugging me to do, even- no, ESPECIALLY- when it makes me feel inadequate or uncomfortable. I need to love and treasure that person anyway, because the only thing that can drive out darkness is light, and the thing that draws me closest to the heart of God is my own pain.

In the end, though, I know it’s not about me. That’s a thing I’m having to remind myself second by glorious second. Abiding in Christ and making much of Him is my ultimate goal. This is a portion of my journey in which I’m extremely introspective, but my end goal is not my own profit or gain or goodness but simply CHRIST.

So yeah, it’s Spring in my heart again, and for that I am unendingly grateful. But there are weeds to be pulled and work to be done in this garden. Feel free to step in and water the soil and help me pull up weeds when you’re around. I’ll need a reminder to stick to it, to abide with His nourishment so these plants can grow.

everything. perhaps we should call it The Big Remodel.

Somewhere along my way here, something told me that I had no right to talk about my pain. I started believing I shouldn’t acknowledge or talk about the things that hurt me and the season of death I’m encountering (leaving?), because mine is so ‘easy’. Which, I guess, is true.
In comparison-- ground gets shaky and dangerous once that word enters the picture-- to much of the world, my pain and sorrow is negligible and laughable.
But believing that I have no right to be open about sorrow I experience is just SATAN.

Let me back up.
Over the past three weeks that I've been blog-less, God has been whispering so much I can hardly hold on to one thing long enough to sketch the most vague idea of it down before another wafts my way. Living in a community of God-lovers (which I love so much, don't get me wrong!) is exhausting in times like these because I am CONSTANTLY being asked, "What is God teaching you lately?" and I always want to respond, "EVERYTHING."

He's teaching me to die to self every day, pick up my cross, and follow Him.
He's teaching me to dwell on things of God and not on the things on man. (Romans 8:5)
He's teaching me that losing my life & dreams is the only way to find life & come alive.
He's teaching me how critical it is for me to surround myself with words of Life, people who speak Truth, and music that breathes Hope.
He's teaching me to hide His Word in my heart, and how greatly it affects my desire/lack of desire to sin against Him.
He's teaching me to see people and listen to them, even to things they don't say.
He's teaching me redundancy is okay.
He's teaching me to live a messy life reeking of redemption and splashing on passersby.

He's teaching me to pray.
He's teaching me to cry.
He's teaching me not to hide.
He's teaching me to stop trying to be tough and sassy.

He's teaching me to be honest with myself.
He's teaching me to love myself AND others.
He's teaching me to rely on Him and abide in Him.
He's teaching me to bear fruit.

He's teaching me to do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but to humbly consider others better than myself.
He's teaching me to look out for others' interests and heartbreaks.

He's teaching me to stop comparing.
He's teaching me to replace, "How am I better? How am I worse?" with "How can I bless them? What can I learn from them?"

He's teaching me to stay.
He's teaching me to speak.
He's teaching me to be renewed.
He's teaching me to leave shame behind.
He's teaching me how to study a living, breathing Word that reads me even as I read it.

He's teaching me to see His patterns.
He's teaching me to hear His voice.
He's teaching me to read His signs.
He's teaching me to question.
He's teaching me to measure everything I see, say, hear, and do against His Word.

He's teaching me to empty myself.
He's teaching me how to be filled.
He's teaching me what to let fill me.

He's teaching me to be a cathedral.
He's teaching me what it means to be a cathedral.
He's teaching me to say, "OK," through the tears.

He's teaching me love.
He's teaching me to love.
He's teaching me how to love.
He's teaching me how to be Love.

((if you didn't stop and think about at least a few of those, please go back and do so. Let Him whisper to you, too.))

And you know, there are probably more things He's teaching me that I haven't thought to put words to yet. I am, at all times, as constantly as I have ever experienced in my nearly twenty-two years of life, being amazed by Him.

I would love to be able to wrap that in a pretty little box for you and tell you that all the things I am learning and being amazed by are so fun and lovely and painless.
HA.

The searing pain of spiritual discipline is deeper than any other pain I have ever known.
It's life-wrecking.

It's the kind of pain that leaves you
sitting in the big chair in your new apartment's living room,
a roommate on either side,
shaking and crying and attempting to breathe,
while the world passes by on the road outside our window
with no knowledge of the revolution going on
in the little girl's heart that lives in that old house.
No matter how hard I try to convey that spiritual pain to you, it's not one you can understand until you've experienced it.

I've said this many times in my recently-passed conversations about the God-things in 2015 so far:

I always thought I knew what self-sacrifice meant until now.

I thought I knew what it meant to undergo spiritual discipline.

I thought I knew what Love was and what Love did and what Love looked like.

I thought I knew what that pain felt like.

But I didn't.

I know now: I never knew. 

I still don't know.

I see a tiny, tiny, beautifully tragic fraction of what it looks and feels like.

When I get to this point in the thought process, I always try to boil it down to one big thing. And right now, it all comes down to this:

be His cathedral.

the commandment of my year. my heart.

I'm still not entirely sure what it means or should look like, but I know this:

without the presence of God in it, a cathedral is just a sad, old building.

The only thing that makes a cathedral beautiful, sacred, and holy is the Shekinah Glory of God- the very presence of the Lord- filling it. **side note: I still don't know or understand enough about Shekinah Glory, but if you know nothing about it, read up on it (a little). 

So my quest then becomes: find the presence of God. figure out how to let Him live in me.
Which is a funny thing, because with all that He's teaching me, He's doing the serious remodeling needed to make my sin-filled, self-inclined human heart a place where He can dwell.
I also know He inhabits the praises of His people; He lives in "our praises, filling up the spaces in between our frailty and everything [He is]." (Restless by Audrey Assad). We have a God who responds when we ask "as I sing to You, in my praises, make Your home!" (Audience of One by Big Daddy Weave).

I find it so beautiful that in Exodus when God outlined for Moses and the Israelites EXACTLY how the Tabernacle was to be designed and set up and consecrated (He spent CHAPTERS doing so!), He had a purpose in it. It was ornate and beautiful and sacred and holy- because it was His dwelling place.
Then, when Christ died, the veil, which separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the Tabernacle-- literally the only place where redemption of sins could be found, and the only place where God's spirit could dwell (Exodus 26:33, 30:6)-- was torn in two (Matthew 27:51). There was no more separation.
We got to become His dwelling places. We got to be made holy because His glory could now fill us as it used to fill the Tabernacle (Exodus 40:14).
We got the chance to become His tabernacles, His cathedrals; We got the chance to become inhabited by the Spirit of the Living God as our hearts and minds fill with praise for Him.

What an undeserved blessing.
What glorious newness is there to be found amidst the searing pain of self-sacrifice.

In my learning to study His Word, I have found a new connection with several hearts that fill the Old Testament- one of which is Joseph. Mainly because he cried a lot.
In Genesis 41, shortly after Joseph has risen to a pretty significant position under Pharaoh, we see a little section about Joseph naming his kids. Verses 50-52 say:
"Before the year of famine came, two sons were born to Joseph. Asenath, the daughter of Potiphera priest of On, bore them to him. Joseph called the name of the firstborn Manasseh. "For," he said, "God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father's house." The name of the second he called Ephraim, "For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction."

Now, I'm obviously not claiming to be on Joseph's level here. But I love finding a treasure like that in an odd place.
I love seeing it and clinging to the truth:
God will make me fruitful in this land of affliction.

{this blog and Becca's current heart-movements inspired by Mark 8, the book of Lamentations, Romans 6-8, and the following albums:

Majestic by Kari Jobe

Cathedrals by Tenth Avenue North

City of Black and White by Mat Kearney}

so for a long time she sat-- remembering, wondering, and thankful.

For some reason, my words never quite fall the way I want them to. Especially when it comes to nights and moments like this, times that matter and that deserve eloquence. I’m just really not the eloquent kind of girl, I suppose.

It’s New Year’s. Happy 2015, my friends!

Apparently there is something about this day that makes me melancholy every time it rolls around. Maybe it’s the vast amounts of reflection it requires, maybe it’s the tidal wave of emotion that sweeps over me as I remember every big & small thing I encountered throughout the past year. 

Whatever it is, it almost bowls me over every year. In fact, last year it really got me.

Last year, God told me on New Year’s Eve that 

“someone will die this year.”

Just that one sentence.

That terrifying fact,

Whispered repeatedly when I asked for an explanation.

I remember it so vividly- I was in the theatre watching The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug for the second time, and He dropped it on me.

And when I asked “why?’ and “who?” and “when?’ and “WHAT?”, He simply restated Himself.

Sometime in the past couple of months, I have realized it was me He was talking about.

It was me that was to die in 2014.

It is me that sits typing at almost 1 A.M., tired of holding back tears, tired of having no words that adequately explain my heart condition, and dead.

Dead to self. Dead to false hopes. Dead to frivolity. Dead to shallow relationships.

And I think the reason that this particular New Year’s is so melancholy is because I know that I’m not done dying yet.

And I hate dying. And I am so bad at it. And I wish I were a natural.

It almost do wish it were easy for me present myself as a living sacrifice. 

But it’s not. 

It’s freaking hard. 

And I feel like such a wimp because I cry about it a lot.

Because I should have expected this. People told me it would be hard.

But I don’t know, I guess it’s one of those hard things that you don’t understand until you’re under the weight of it yourself… and by then it’s too late. By then, all you can do is cry and hope to find someone along the way who will encourage you and remind you:

It isn’t easy to offer yourself up to be crucified. It’s not supposed to be.

And the fact that you finally are offering yourself up doesn’t mean you’re some awesome, strong person; it means you’ve come to the end of your weakness and realized you have absolutely nothing left to give. You are the utter weakling. At least for me that’s how it’s happened. It’s almost a last-ditch effort, this final surrender. It’s the:

“OK OK HERE, TAKE IT!” that seems to be human instinct when we are met with someone who wants something from us and won’t back down.

On Christmas Eve, Jesus did another of his whispering acts. Except this time instead of warning me of coming death, His words were spoken so softly and tenderly it was almost like a proposal.

But instead of “Be my wife”, it was

“Be my cathedral.”

And I really don’t know why or how or what, but something in my heart understood that. Something clicked.

Before I even really had a chance to think about it, my heart was whisper-screaming and crying out and twirling around before Him the most wholehearted

“YES!” 

I think has ever existed in a human heart.

I didn’t even know it was there; it’s like she, strong little Yes, had been lying dormant and growing stronger as the other things in my little human heart died off in 2014. And when enough of them had finally had died off, she had the space to stand and twirl and leap and shout her strongest.

It was then that I remembered that lovely (though terrifying) C.S. Lewis quote:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

It turns out, Jesus was never interested in turning me into an adequate little residence. He wants me to be His Cathedral. 

And don’t you think it’s fitting that in Cathedrals, you find stained glass windows? 

And that this year of the most brokenness of heart I have ever encountered has surely left some tinted glass bits behind somewhere?… they, I am sure, will be used for the windows.

It reminds me of Joel 2:12, (the first verse I am memorizing this year!) where the Lord calls on His people to come back to him AS THEY ARE: broken/shattered/weeping/etc.

“Yet even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning, and rend your hearts and not your garments.”

If you haven’t heard of it before, that verb there, REND, literally means to rip apart violently. Applied to the heart, it means “to harrow or distress the heart with painful feelings.” (thanks, Webster).

Honestly, I don’t think I’ve completely understood this verse until right now as I type, but here it comes:

He is inviting us to let our hearts be distressed.

COME BACK TO ME, EVEN NOW, he says, WITH ALL YOUR HURT. RETURN WITH YOUR WOUNDEDNESS AND ODD MOURNING RITUALS AND LET YOUR HEART FEEL ALL THE PAINFUL THINGS AT ONCE.

After all, a broken and contrite heart is an offering He will never turn down (Psalm 51:17).

Last NYE, I posted something about sweeping out the dark corners of my heart to make more room for Him, and boy has that proved true. I almost think God is in the business of Corner-Sweeping-Out of Hearts. Mike Donehey, lead singer of Tenth Avenue North, put it this way: 

“We are never trying to win divine approval, Christ has already bought that for us. No, we are in search of simply creating more space where He can fill.”

And all the little corners in my heart need to be swept out and filled with Him.

So 2015 is a year of that. Of continuing to sweep out and let Him fill the vacancy. Of inviting Him to renovate this old shack into not just an “ok” cottage, but a palace, a dwelling place where He alone will reside, a stunning CATHEDRAL.

“What does it mean to be a Cathedral of God?

We are “sanctuary” for each other.

Like those great and mighty structures of old, 

we too can be a place of refuge for those in trouble.

People are no longer a threat.

They are fellow sojourners searching for that eternal spring.

Weary sinners can find a harbor for their souls when they come 

to those who know they have been redeemed.

We are safety for the stumbling and still waters for anxious hearts.

We have tasted.

We have seen.

And now, we can show them the way.” (Mike Donehey)

So with that, let me share my few resolutions for the year:

1.  Become a Cathedral, or at least more of a Cathedral than what I am now.

2. Within that, stop viewing other people as a threat. Stop seeing myself as “small sauce” (thank you, Hannah Brencher, for those perfectly paired words). The time of “we seemed to ourselves likegrasshoppers” in comparison is OVER. Love people, be a hospital, and claim what the Lord has given you and built in you, so that you may use it to bless others.

3. Write one encouraging/thankful note per week.

4. Memorize 24 scripture verses- one every two weeks (I'm doing this with Beth Moore & friends...  "SSMT 2015", they call it. Please join. It's going to be a tough and so worthwhile commitment!)

I’ve only recently finished re-reading an old favorite book of mine, Hinds’ Feet on High Places. 

At the end of it, when Much-Afraid has reached the High Places and received her hinds’ feet and had her name changed to Grace-and-Glory, she runs around on the High Places rejoicing.

And then, at the close, it states: 

“So for a long time, she sat silent—remembering, wondering, and thankful.”

May that be each of our hearts’ attitudes today and throughout 2015.