outgrown shoes

this season of life is a really weird one for me. I don't like things that don't feel like they're cut to suit me, and this period of time definitely doesn't. Casey eloquently put it as "outgrowing our shoes", which I feel like perfectly sums up so many of the things I am uneasy about these days.

I'll be honest, it's really weird for me to be open about being in love. it feels weird even admitting that so publicly and bluntly. makes me uneasy. I want to shout about it everywhere, I want everyone to know how amazing this is (insert Buddy the Elf "I'M IN LOVE I'M IN LOVE AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT" gif here). But I also feel like it is something that should be held sacred and soft between just us two. There's a weird balance there that I have yet to strike. I'm not sure how or where to find it. I'm not sure if anyone has ever found it before-- now that I think about it, every relationship I know seems either too public or too silent, there is no in-between.

I feel like I should be able to sit down and calmly talk about this without giggling and avoiding eye contact because I know I'm blushing so hard and WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDN'T ADMIT HOW MUCH I CARE ABOUT HIM AND HOW LOVELY THIS IS? I find myself, even now, almost three years into this wonderfully imperfect relationship, sometimes avoiding his loving gaze when in the presence of others cause I don't want to have some magical gushy moment that might make them realize that we're kind of madly in love. I find myself being uncomfortable using the term 'madly in love' even though that's simply it.

How can you not be madly in love with a man who spends new years eve building legos with you?

I'm not old enough for this, but I'm also finally old enough for this.
We're outgrowing the shoes of 'boyfriend/girlfriend' and 'just a relationship' (we might have outgrown the 'just' a long way back), but it isn't time for the new shoes yet. so... we just uncomfortably waddle in the outgrown shoes and make the best of it and giggle at the waddling and talk in funny voices.

A long time ago, I told him,

"I am the book you tried to write at 3 AM.

Then everything I am came pouring forth and you realized you were unprepared, you had not the capacity for me. You set me aside so you could go buy reams of paper, and boxes of pens, and a big, comfy chair, and pounds of coffee beans, and brightly colored mugs, and all the supplies one forgets about with the small writings that go on, but they suddenly remember when The Novel sneaks up on them. You left to prepare yourself for me, and me for you. You left so that there would be no doubt that when you returned, you would be more than ready to sit in a chair and leisurely pen my lines for the rest of your life."
And I think this outgrown-shoes phase is the next part, like writer's block. The book will happen eventually, but right now is not the time for it to come flowing forth.

I wish everyone who ever fell in love got to experience it the way I'm experiencing it, outgrown shoes included. I understand not everyone gets it this way- though I don't understand why- but I just wish we all did.

Falling in love with someone who loves me so weightily and stickily brushes away any and all fear. I suppose because it is a Christ-centered, pure love- and therefore, perfect love- it drives out fear. I'm not afraid of what he might say or do or become or think. I'm not afraid of being too much for him. I'm even not afraid of my own dark parts anymore.

Without my knowing when or how, he fell quickly and fiercely in love with the parts of me I have struggled hardest to accept or change.

And that doesn't mean he just accepted them. That means he sat down, and pointed them out to me, and held them up to my face and said, "I see this part of you. It isn't something I don't notice because you try not to bring it up. I see it and I already love it. I see how it has changed you and grown you and shaped you and refined you. I cherish how it has made that part of you softer and more sensitive and more guarded. It makes me want to put a balm on it and guard it with you. It makes me want to teach you how to love it since you haven't learned how to yet."

From my overactive thoughts to my thunder thighs, to my inability to talk normally about ways people hurt me, to my tiny "lucky" tooth, to how mad I get in traffic. From acne scars to stretch marks to cellulite to yellow teeth to weird toes to suspicious mind to mean self-talk to gossiping nature to lazy heart.

He says, "Babe, I've noticed you don't really know how to talk about your deepest hurts, and you are beginning to realize you've never realized how huge they are. I just want you to know you can talk to me about it anytime. You don't have to have it figured out. I want to hear your heart."

He says, "I love your lucky tooth and if you ever do anything to change it at all I will never forgive you, because that funny tooth is one of the first things that drew me to you and I adore it."

He says, "You overthink a lot, sweetie, and it takes up too much of your mental power. Give yourself a break and just pray for people instead of overanalyzing situations, your heart will feel so much better. Here, hold my hand and I'll help you."

He says, "Sweetheart, I love and appreciate every piece of you, no matter how messy or frumpy you feel. I know you don't like your thighs or rolls, and you sometimes think the stretch marks and cellulite are ugly, but I think they are womanly and strong and beautiful, and they show that you have lived. Let yourself see that as beauty."

He says, "I know it's a fight for you to keep from gossiping about people but I treasure the fact that you fight it daily and seek to speak truth and life instead. Your mouth speaks beautiful things."

He says, "I hope you know you are the fiercest, most delicate creature I know. And that is the best combination I can imagine and you perfectly embody it."

And girls don't always get to fall in love with that. Girls fall in love with "I wish you would lose weight", "shut up", and "you're kinda pretty in your own way" every day. They don't fall in love with men who know what it means for a woman to be fierce and delicate. They don't fall in love with men whose eyes are so perceptive to things both concrete and abstract, and whose eyes are so faithful to a covenant of purity even before marriage.

They don't fall in love with men whose compliments are "you refresh me", "your mind amazes me", and "I love just looking at your eyes."

They fall in love with "you're hot", "come over baby", and much more vulgar things than I dare type.

Girls don't always get to fall in love the way I'm getting to fall in love. I wish we all did. And I don't know why we don't all have that (I guess that's not for me to figure out), but I'm here to show you that it's possible to.

It may not sound fun to walk with outgrown shoes, but the feet walking beside me are faithful and gracious and loving, far more than I could ever ask for or deserve. If you're looking for a nudge or a sign to trust, to wait, to stay, to love someone you could only deserve through the grace of God, then this is it. Trust Him.

"Take a break from all the plans that you have made,

And sit at home alone and wait for God to whisper.

Beg Him please to open up His mouth and speak

And pray for real upon your knees until they blister.

Shine the light on every corner of your life,

Until the pride and lust and lies are in the open.

Then read the Word and put to test the things you've heard

Until your heart and soul are stirred and rocked and broken"

(-clear the stage, jimmy needham)

this season of life is really weird, and I don't love feeling uncomfortable with most things most days, but the one constant is the goodness of God. I think we all outgrow our shoes in different ways throughout life; I am sure I'm not the first of His children to have felt like they had outgrown something, who yearned for the future instead of living in the present. I am certain He took care of them, in His time, and in His way, just as He has for me and for Casey- from the first day until now. I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! I know that I have already seen as much of it as I can handle. I am so grateful for the life and experiences He has given me, including the now-moments I get with Casey, and that is enough. 

Christmas (plus a few days)

A few weeks ago, I remembered how He came like the winter snow. I love this song by Audrey Assad- she says all these ways our Savior could have come: like a fire, a hurricane, a mighty storm... but instead, He came like the snow- it perfectly depicts the peace Jesus brought to the chaos and muck of humanity when He came as a child.

As one of my favorites, J. Vernon McGee, put it: "Here comes God out of eternity, already the Ancient of Days; but He also came to Bethlehem, a little baby thing that made a woman cry." The least expected thing in the most needed way.

I can't help but remember waking up in the wee hours of the morning that February day, in the yellow guest bedroom at 14 Oakleigh Crescent in a London suburb. I was one of millions of Londoners who slept as the snow blanketed our houses and streets and sidewalks and cars, quiet and soft and slow. Something happened to wake me up, though, and I crept to the frosty window and peeked out into street and saw snow- SNOW!- everywhere. Inches and inches of snow, more than I'd ever seen fall at once, lit by the yellowed streetlights. Joy bubbled around within me, and I began tearing up.

IT CAME!- my one thought.
They had said it would, but I was skeptical.
Then it did. While I was sleeping, unaware. But something woke me up and all the sudden, there it was: five (or more) glorious inches of white, fluffy, frozen water making me cry.

Isn't that just how you imagine Christ coming? I'm not saying that night in the stable was quiet or soft or slow in the least-- I think it was probably the opposite. But I think about those hours after He had come, when He had finally stopped crying and finally fell asleep like the rest of the people in the Town of David. 
Maybe some young girl, who like me felt as though this town she was visiting was meant to be her hometown, awoke in the middle of the night and heard the word. 
He came. Maybe she always wondered whether He would or not; and then He did. 
"Already the Ancient of Days", but here in this tiny town in a tiny baby's helpless body, He just came and made another young girl, one who had no idea what she (or He) was doing with her life, cry. 

It turns out, this Jesus guy chose to come as something vulnerable and weak because He knew that was the only thing we could truly relate to: being helpless and desperate and reliant. 

For some reason, as Hark! The Herald Angels Sing says, this Savior-child was "pleased, as man, with men to dwell- JESUS, Our Emmanuel." He came to live with us so that we could live in Him and through Him.
I always get convicted by Christmas carol lyrics; it seems to be a different carol that strikes me each year. It seems like I'm continually hating O Come All Ye Faithful (because let's be real: if the invitation to 'come' is only to the 'joyful, faithful, and triumphant', then 90% of days I would not be invited). 
This year it was It Came Upon A Midnight Clear (specifically the third verse) that brought me to tears:

O ye beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.

Now THIS one... this one gets me. 
"O YE BENEATH LIFE'S CRUSHING LOAD", it starts, and there I want to raise both my arms. 
ME ME ME, THAT IS ME, HELLO YES PLEASE PICK ME BECAUSE I AM WHO YOU ARE TALKING TO.
then it starts qualifying it, like those ads for COPD drugs ("do you struggle breathing? do you find yourself wheezing after walking?") and continues: 
"HEY YOU! YOUR FORM EVER BEND LOW?
YOU TOIL ALONG THE CLIMBING WAY SOMETIMES?
STEPS EVER FEEL PAINFUL? SLOW?" 
Yes, yes, yes. All of the above.
Have we got a cure for you!

Hannah Brencher  has kind of changed how I think about golden things. She mentions it a lot and it made me start thinking about it and noticing those gilded, glittering things, and realize that they're everywhere. God's Word talks about gold A LOT. 
Apparently it's a condition (not a thing) to be sought after. To be golden! What a thing to seek. 
And here, 'upon a midnight clear' we are offered it as the cure for our troubles: glad and golden hours.
They're coming swiftly! Get ready! Come rest with us and hear the angels sing so you don't miss the glad and golden hours we'll experience when we rest in Him together!
(I literally cried at this point in the song)

I'm convinced that I'm not the only one 2014 has been rough to. I'm sure that at least a few other people experienced bittersweet moments on Christmas week or cried on Christmas Eve or wished things were different. 
There have to be others of you who have toiled along some this year, who have climbed until you thought you couldn't climb any more, who have walked and walked and walked until there were blisters and scrapes and all you could do was drag yourself forward one small step at a time. 

But if you've been with Jesus for a while, or maybe if you've read Hinds' Feet on High Places, then you know that when He plants the Seed of Love in you and asks you to follow Him, the journey is far from easy. 
So many times you deviate and have to find your way back, or wish to turn around, or just cry your little eyeballs out because you're so tired of trying. But then once you become His and that Seed of Love blooms in you, one day you'll realize He's led you to the High Places. He's made your tired, dusty feet "like the deer's" so that you can "tread on high places."  (Habakkuk 3:17-19) 
And it's not so hard any more, and it's easier to see the golden sun, and it's more peaceful there beside His road. 

It makes me so very very glad He came. He became Emmanuel. God. WITH. Us.
To breathe with us
To live with us
To love with us
To cry with us
To walk with us
To see with us
To sing with us
To run with us
To fight with us
To talk with us
To rest with us.
Like snow. Not requiring or expecting anything but reverence. Making all our muck and chaos disappear and suddenly grow still under his weight and mercy and presence. Giving us a way to find our way to His High Places, so we could live those glad and golden hours with Him.

Holy is He, Blessed am I.

For some reason, I have come to really love all those quirky, never-heard-of chick flicks on Netflix that are somewhat deep and depressing and not really chick flicks at all (E.g. The Diary of Preston Plummer, Liberal Arts, Like Crazy, Girl Most Likely, One Day, The Giant Mechanical Man, The Pallbearer, etc.) I've watched an abundance of them over the past month; don't ask me why because I couldn't give a reason. They just appeal to me, probably because I don't know what my life is and the characters in the movies don't seem to either.
Today as I was watching Liberal Arts, the female lead, Zibby, said something that resonated with me.

"I sometimes feel like I'm looking down on myself. Like there's this older, wiser me watching over this 19-year-old rough draft, who's full of all this potential, but has to live more to catch up with that other self somehow. And, uh, I know I'll get there. It's just sometimes I think I want to rush the process, you know? "

And though I am quickly approaching 22 years, I still feel like a rough draft. I, too, feel like I have loads of potential that I don't know what to do with and don't know how to catch up to the older, wiser, finished-product Me. 
Maybe I never will. Maybe I'm not supposed to. 
Maybe I will always feel like Taylor Swift did at 22 years old: happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time. Miserable and magical. 
I don't know for sure, but I'm hoping with everything I've got that "fake it till you make it" is an acceptable mantra for an adult to sing repeatedly, and that it's ok for me to always be the emotional basketcase that I am.

Yesterday I went to my church's Christmas program. There were several times where I was brought to tears by the sheer beauty of it all- the music and instrumentalists combined with the drama and the dancers just cut right to my soul, right to the spot that recognizes beauty and alerts the rest of your self. I was overwhelmed with it all. 
Then the girl playing Mary sang this song.
And it kind of wrecked me. I was one big blubbery mess of tears and streaking eyeliner and it was like my soul was singing, desperately, back to God as I cried along with the song- "Be Born in Me" by Francesca Battistelli. 

The music video depicts Mary's heart through everything. 
Not that I am in any way to be compared with the mother of Jesus, but this song resonated with me so much.
God has been using Mary to teach me an abundance of things, over the long stretch of road that has been Our Journey since January 2012 (and if you want to hear about that I'd be glad to ramble to ya). But one thing that has been truly cemented this year is that He wraps himself in the unexpected. The song says:

"All this time we've waited for the promise
All this time You've waited for my arms
Did You wrap yourself inside the unexpected
So we might know that Love would go that far?

Be born in me, be born in me
Trembling heart, somehow I believe that You chose me
I'll hold You in the beginning, You will hold me in the end
Every moment in the middle, make my heart Your Bethlehem
Be born in me."


and, really, how perfect is that? How fitting is that to my life?! 
"It's INCREDIBLY FITTING, Becca!" is the correct answer.


I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I feel like I have so much in common with Mary. I feel like I have this unexplainable favor from the Lord resting on me and I have no idea why (Luke 1:30). All I know is that "I am not brave, I'll never be- the only thing my heart can offer is a vacancy. I'm just a girl, nothing more, but I am willing, I am Yours."

That's kind of the theme of my life these past few years. Realizing I am not fully His yet, but I am on my way- I am becoming fully His (John 1:12). Realizing my feet are mangled and misshapen from the sin I have trod in time and time again, and that He offers to make my feet like hinds' feet and take me up on the High Places (Habakkuk 3:19). Realizing that He calls us to lay down so many things in the grave, that better things may be resurrected (Luke 9:23, John 10:17).


This year has been the Year of Death (I'll write more about that come New Years' Eve) and it has, quite literally (spiritually) killed me. It has been the Death of Becca and it has been so incredibly, painfully glorious. And as I cried along to that beautiful song and really paid attention to the lyrics, I realized what may be the final realization of this series/journey: I HAVE DIED THAT HE MAY LIVE IN ME. 
I know, I know; I'm slow to realize this point that probably EVERY other Christian has gotten to by now. Whatever. He teaches us different things at different times. 

BUT GUYS.
This year, He killed me.
So that I would be empty.
So that I wouldn't have to be the innkeeper that said, "No room."
So that I could say, "Well... I don't have much, but I DO have vacancy."
So that He could be born, here. In me.

So that my clinging to Him now and holding Him so very dear could eventually become Him holding me when I have not the strength to cling any more (I look forward to that day).
So that in between now and then, my heart could literally be His hometown.

He is making me His.
He is making me His home.

And knowing that makes me realize: it's ok to be a rough draft. I am His rough draft. I am being hewn and sharpened and purified and shaped and smoothed out, among my moments and years of seeming not to know anything but tears.
It's ok to watch a lot of sad movies because I don't know what my life is yet; He does.

"Everything inside me cries for order
Everything inside me wants to hide
Is this shadow of an angel or a warrior?
If God is pleased with me, why am I so terrified?
Someone tell me I am only dreaming
Somehow help me see with Heaven's eyes
And before my head agrees, my heart is on its knees
Holy is He;

blessed am I."

can I say that once more for my own heart's sake?

If you know nothing else, weary heart, know this:

Holy is He.

Blessed am I.

/He came among us at Christmastide/

One thing I love but hate about the Christmas season is how emotional it makes me. Mix finals with a month-long family reunion, memories of the past, missing school friends, and all the Jesus stuff and it just gets really messy.
I feel like all the relational/familial emotion stuff explains itself so let's skip straight past that to the Jesus stuff that really gets me.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's just that I always drift away from Him while I'm at school. Maybe it's just that I let myself forget, outside of the Christmas season, that Jesus was actually a HUMAN PERSON.
Whatever it is, once this time of year comes and everything seems to hit me all at once, I'm continually a ball of tears.
Today, it finally began hitting.
I went to the Crossgates Christmas program and cried for about half of it. Granted, most of the tears were over how much I wish my family were there with me, or that I were at home watching my church's Christmas program. BUT, there were loads of tears and mascara streaks over the Jesus part.

He, the baby Messiah, was born into a sin-obsessed world. The ultimate Savior- fully God and fully man- came to a weary world clothed as "a little baby thing that made a woman cry" (eloquence courtesy of J. Vernon McGee). The Bible straight-up tells us that He was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" and that we, the billions of people He came to seek and save, "esteemed Him not" (Isaiah 53).

JESUS DID NOT HAVE TO DIE.
He's fully God- He could easily have saved everyone from their sins by some awesome loophole and not have had to be crucified and resurrected and so on.
BUT HE DID ANYWAY.
Why? I'm sure there's some great theological answer to this.
My answer: because He's just that loving.
He knew these now-sin-obsessed people He had created to be obsessed with His glory would need something to grasp on to. Something that made Him like them. Something that was more convincing than "just because".
He died because he knew I, Becca Stovall, would be too emotional to handle life on my own. He knew I would need someone who had come before and been familiar with every pain, joy, and temptation that I've encountered, to rely on. He knew my heart before it existed.
That is why He came.

One of my favorite Christmas songs this year is I Wonder As I Wander. The lyrics say,
"I wonder, as I wander out under the sky, how Jesus the Savior did come for to die for poor ordinary* people like you and like I. I wonder, as I wander out under the sky.
If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing- a star in the sky, or a bird on the wing, or all of God's angels in Heaven for to sing- He surely could have them for He is the King."
*(sometimes I like to pretend she says "ornery" instead of "ordinary" here, because it's funny and because most days I'm more ornery than ordinary.)

This song basically lays out my heart's questions. If Jesus ever wanted anything, he could have it. So why did he come to die for poor, ornery/ordinary people like ME? Why did he want to do that?

I still haven't solidified the answer in my heart. I'm still kind of wrung up over the fact that He DIED for little selfish me.
Then He rose again to seek me out and save me.
What a good Shepherd He truly is!

As much as I hate the fact that I am so sinful/selfish/prideful/dirty and He came for me anyway, I can't help but beg Him to keep coming and reminding and redeeming and renewing and doing this nuts emotional thing each Christmas.
Because maybe it isn't just me. Maybe He's moving in other hearts for our good and His glory!

"O come, O come, Emmanuel, and random captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear. Rejoice, rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

O come, Desire of Nations, bind in one the heart of all mankind. Bid thou our sad division cease, and be Thyself our King of Peace. Rejoice, rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by Thine advent here. Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death's dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice, rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!"

Maybe the more we beg Him to come, the closer He draws to each one of us.
I'm reminded of yet another Christmas song that states so simply how we should respond to His coming, His Emmanuel-ness, His being WITH US:
"He came among us at Christmastide- at Christmastide in Bethlehem. Men shall bring him, from far and wide, Love's diadem. JESUS, JESUS! Lo, He comes and loves and saves and frees us!…

Thou my lazy heart hast stirred, Thou, the Father's eternal Word. Greater than aught that ear has heard, Thou tiny bird of Love, Thou Son of Mary...

Little man and God indeed, Little and poor: Thou art all we need. We will follow where Thou dost lead, and we will heed our brother, born of Mary."

It sums everything up.
He came.
We worshipped.
He loves, saves, frees.
We responded.
We follow Him.
We love our brothers.

It's crazy to me how much sense it all makes. Despite its craziness, despite Jesus being UTTERLY NONSENSICAL…
It fits.
Mostly because my heart has a that-sized hole that it's constantly seeking to fill.

I pray (literally), this Christmastide that you, reader, remember and realize that He was a human.
He was a little boy who had to be taught to eat and walk and talk and read.
He was a young man who had to learn to obey and follow and trust.
He was a King who came to teach us to live his radical, nonsensical way.
He is still alive- remembering His human experiences and sorrows and being the best High Priest possible for us.
I pray that you catch a glimpse of His great goodness.
I pray that you cry a few tears over who He is and what He's done- or maybe more than a few.
I pray that you experience the realness of The Almighty God, creator of forever and stars and sunflowers and nucleotides, molding your life and blowing your mind and coming like the winter snow to wreck you in the best possible sense.

Whatever He's doing...

The main problem I have with summer is that there's too much time. Granted, it's very welcome for the first 5-8 days after school gets out and I can sleep as much as I want.
Then, I realize how infrequently I'm seeking Christ and loving others and doing profitable things. Most summers, I spend my time working, reading, and watching LOTS of Netflix and Hulu. It's quite embarrassing.
I'm one of those odd people who works best under pressure and needs to have a lot to do in order to be motivated in the least bit. Summer doesn't exactly foster a great atmosphere for me getting stuff done, in that case. I was/am hoping this summer would be different from the last two, since I was at home and working at X-Cel for those, and this one I will be spending in Clinton. I've got summer school to keep me a little bit more motivated, but let's be real: these two non-music classes I'm taking are ridiculously easy. So really the only "hard" part of summer school is the piano & voice lessons part, which only requires patience and much practice. Bearable.
I'm still working at the gym, though it's only one day a week, and will be spending every Sunday in Vicksburg as I work with a church preschool department. This basically means my Sundays and Mondays are extremely busy, and the others days are freckled with beckoning of homework, practice time, people to invest in, and general life-ey things.
That's way too much free time.
I've tried to spend it wisely so far, and I'll give myself a C+ on that work. I have spent a lot of time with friends, talking about life and Jesus and crazy things He's doing- which I treasure and don't regret a microsecond of. I've been reading more, of which I am also glad. But A LOT of time has been spent on facebook, twitter, instagram, netflix, hulu, pinterest, etc. Little time has been spent practicing and studying and doing what I'm staying in town for (SUMMER SCHOOL.)
All of this free time is spent not only sleeping too much and being a couch potato, but most of my waking hours involve over-thinking everything.
My voice teacher told me to practice more so she must be disappointed in me and hate me and think I'm an awful person.
My piano teacher made me play this piece with hands separately, he probably thinks I'm awful at piano and wonders why I'm a music major and just hasn't said anything to me.
A friend said she didn't want to hang out today, I bet she thinks I'm being annoying.
And so on. It mostly just gets worse from there.

I'm telling you, I'm possibly the worst over-thinker in the world.

Sometimes, though, it produces good things.
The other day I was at work and no one showed up for the class, so I had about 20 minutes before I needed to be back. My coworkers invited me to go grab something to drink with them, and I politely and awkwardly declined and headed to the local nature center. I walked out a path to the butterfly garden and sat on a sunny bench and just listened to the world around me, for once. The dragonflies buzzed about hurriedly and set a nice little percussion-ey background for the songs of the birds and whispers of the trees and rustling of the grass. It was all quite poetic a scene, and brought an insanely pensive mood to my heart. So, I sat there and pondered.
How little I know my coworkers. How awkward I feel around them. How awkward I feel around my teachers. How little I know them. How little I know my classmates. How little I know my friends...
And suddenly it's like the thoughts had grown into full-bodied people, and were now inches away from my face saying "You spend your time so selfishly that you invest very little in others and therefore know nothing about them."
It hurt my heart to realize this, and I can only assume that must have been God, because I wasn't hurt that they hadn't taken time to be my friend and share their heart with me, but I was hurt because I suddenly realized all the time I'd spent with them was just pure selfishness. I had done it because I wanted to feel good or look good to them or tell them something "important". It was never because I wanted to know their heart or learn to love them humbly and truthfully.

It hurt my heart to see the hours I could've spent comforting and serving and encouraging had been wasted.

So, since that over-analyzation Tuesday, I've been thinking and praying about ways I can be more intentional and invested in those around me- whether I call them "friend" yet or not. They are all worthy of love and fellowship and friendship and deserve more than the apathetic listening-to-answer time I give them.
I've already had genuine FRIEND time with three people since then, and have made plans with four more for over the next four days. I'm discovering I like life a lot better when it isn't focused on me. It's so much more enjoyable and bearable when I'm not constantly worrying about MY looks or MY words or what people think about ME. This is not to say it's easy. It's humbling, and huge blow to my pride, and has required some apologies already. But already I am freer and more content with life (I guess Jesus knew what He was talking about when he instructed me to throw off my burdens and take up his yoke. It really is light. {Matt. 11:28-30})
I like the chaos that His will is comprised of. It truly is something unlike earthly chaos, because there's a peace within it. Sure, it's scary not knowing what He's doing with my life. But I know who He is and the great ways He works, and THAT I look foward to.

"It's time for healing time to move on
It's time to fix what's been broken too long
Time make right what has been wrong
It's time to find my way to where I belong
There's a wave that's crashing over me
All I can do is surrender

Whatever you're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something heavenly

Time for a milestone
Time to begin again
Revaluate who I really am
Am I doing everything to follow your will
or just climbing aimlessly over these hills
So show me what it is you want from me
I give everything I surrender...

To Whatever you're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something heavenly

Time to face up
Clean this old house
Time to breathe in and let everything out
That I've wanted to say for so many years
Time to to release all my held back tears

Whatever you're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but I believe
You're up to something bigger than me
Larger than life something heavenly

Whatever you're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but now I can see
This something bigger than me
Larger than life something heavenly
Something heavenly

It's time to face up
Clean this old house
Time breathe in and let everything out"

give me words!

Isaiah 1:16-17 says, "Wash yourselves and be clean! Get your sins out of my sight. Give up your evil ways. Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows."
There are 27 million slaves in the world today, more than there have been at any other point in human history. But they aren't just "27 million". Not just a number. They have names. They have faces. They're a little girl who's kidnapped and is now the subject of pornographic pictures. They're a man who was born into slavery and is forced to work in dangerous conditions with no hope for his family's future and childrens' education. They're a young woman who was tricked into moving to a different country for a job, only to become a prostitute whose only hope of escape is suicide. 
THEY ARE REAL PEOPLE.
"WE'VE GOT TO RISE UP, OPEN OUR EYES UP.
BE HER VOICE, BE HER FREEDOM.
COME ON, STAND UP."
This week was Passion 2012, also known as the week Jesus changed my life. Obviously, he'd already changed my life the day He redeemed me and I became His at 9 years old. But this week, I realized I truly desire God. He is beautiful to me, and I seek to glorify Him with my life so that others may see His beauty as well. I am satisfied by all that He is in my life through Jesus Christ, because of how he's freed me from the bondage of sin and bound me to a life of sacrificial love with Him (thank you, John Piper, for that wording). I feel like my heart has been pricked with an injecting-needle of faith. It's like a small blossom has entered and is spreading, slowly and boldly. 
He opened my eyes to the brutal reality of human trafficking and modern-day slavery. Did you know it takes 3.2 slaves to make a smartphone? Yeah. There's a really awesome anti-slavery organization, www.slaveryfootprint.org, which has a survey you can take to calculate how many slaves you employ with the products you buy and the things you own. I calculated mine, and I employ 47 slaves. The sad truth is, I don't live that extravagantly. I have a car and a smartphone and eat food in the caf at school. I wear mostly t-shirts and buy the Wal-Mart brand a lot. And still, with the purchases I make everyday I am continuing global modern-day slavery. Take a couple minutes and learn about modern-day slavery on SlaveryFootprint's website, and take the survey. Then, use your voice. They have a great resource on the website where you can send letters to various companies whose products you use, asking them to reevaluate where they get their resources and if they're made through forced labor. I've sent 26 today alone, because I am concerned about our culture's rampant apathy about this issue and I want to see it changed. Also, you can donate money on their website to help end human trafficking, and you can download their app that helps you keep track of the products you're buying and whether they were made by forced laborers. Other wonderful organizations you could check out are the A21 Campaign, International Justice Mission (IJM), Tiny Hands, Hagar International, Wellspring Living, NightLight, and Restore International are just a few of those seeking to "seek justice, help the oppressed, fight for the rights of widows, and defend the cause of the orphans."
My one prayer, now, is that my God would give me the words to speak. That we all would "Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." (Colossians 3:16-17). My prayer is that the Jesus that has been poured into my life the past three days would spill over on everyone that I come in contact with, especially in the spiritual darkness of London. My prayer is that I would not be ashamed of the Gospel, for I know that it is the power of God for salvation for everyone who believes it (Romans 1:16). My prayer is that my conversations would overflow with the words of God and with His grace; and most of all, my prayer is for those of my brothers and sisters around the world that are enslaved, that they would be found and rescued. That they would come to faith in Christ, and that their captors would be imprisoned, and that this bright blaze of a fire that started at Passion 2012 would catch fire around the world, and that the church would rise up and do her job- seek justice. help the oppressed. 
Here's a video of what CNN reported as a teensy bit of what happened the past three days in Atlanta, Georgia.  $3 million for 27 million

I am stained with dirt, prone to depravity.

"A relationship devoid of purity is soon reduced to nothing more than two bodies grasping at and demanding pleasure. Without purity, the mind becomes a slave to depravity, tossed about by every single craving and imagination."
-Joshua Harris
{and actually stolen from an AWESOME blog two friends of mine started, LOVE UNAWAKENED }


Is there even more I can say to expound on this?  "The more the words the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone?" (Eccl. 6:11) Just read it again. Mull it over. And ask that God would use it to awaken your heart to His convictions and callings.


and You are Holy, Holy, Holy. All Heaven cries, "HOLY, HOLY GOD!". and You are Holy, Holy, Holy. I wanna be wholly like You are. -Wholly Yours, DC*B

show me what it is You want from me. I give everything, I surrender.

I don't know what on earth happened to get me to this place. actually, I think I do know.

and it wasn't something on earth. I can promise you that.

God is doing something huge in me... in the words of Sanctus Real, "it feels like chaos, but somehow there's peace."

It's like He knows how much my time is constrained, and is honoring my devoting the little open pieces to Him. Like each morning, he reminds me that He woke me up and He's the reason I'm alive, and the whole day I have this indescribable peace. I mean, he kind of promised that in Philippians 4:6-7. He says, "Hey! Stop worrying. Don't be anxious about stuff you can't do anything about. Instead, just talk to me about it. I'm here, I'm listening. I want to hear your heart's cry, so talk to me, Daughter. Pray to me! Beg me! I want you to want me. Be thankful for my blessings- from huge things like being alive, to small things like seeing a gorgeous sunset or hearing the birds singing. Just ask me for anything you need. Once you finally do that, my peace, which no one could ever understand, will protect you. It will fill your heart and guard your mind with my son!" {that was the expanded, becca-tized version of this.}

anyway, each day that I wake up and he reminds me that I am redeemed and chosen to live in His victory, no matter what happens I somehow end the day with joy still. I may cry somewhere in the middle, or heave several sighs of stress, or want to rip my hair out. but in the midst of that, I know he is with me. walking beside me, hemming me in. that is such a beautiful picture to me. and so comforting.

so I have said all that stuff about my awesome God to say this: he is doing the weirdest thing in my life. in the midst of these tweakings and overflowing days of joy, I can almost feel him preparing my heart for the future. I can see him strategically placing people in my life that I know He has a purpose for, beyond just becoming friends in english class.

I can't even explain it beyond that.

This video describes my life right now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-zczJXSxnw

above is the link to a youtube video about the Tacoma Narrows Bridge that collapsed in November 1940. Now this bridge did not just collapse. First it started moving like a wave headed for the shore. The reason this happened was because of resonance. Resonance is when 2 things have the same pitch (or they vibrate at the same frequency). When something of that frequency occurs, it causes the other thing to vibrate because it has the same frequency. For example- let's say you have two pianos, tuned exactly to the same pitch. When you strike Middle C on one piano, the middle C string on the other piano is going to vibrate because one has been struck at the same frequency. I find this whole concept very intriguing and suggest anyone and everyone to watch the above video. ENJOY! =)