/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.

blemishes of arrogance

It has been quite a long while since I've blogged, so obviously things have built up over time. Last night came a minor emotional breakdown, during which I wrote in my journal, "I feel like this thing that has built inside me is closer than ever to rupturing, but isn't quite there. I don't even know what the *thing* is. It just is."
it's like this weird emotional/spiritual pimple waiting to pop.
And that's about as specific as I know how to word it.
Among the meetings, the classes, the tests, the projects, the friend dates, the plans, the car drives, the tears, the small joys, the words, the thoughts, the emotions, and the procrastination that has somehow filled this semester, I recently found myself living for the applause. I've never seen myself as one who lived for the limelight or sought out recognition, so it honestly shocked me last night when I realized what my ambition has been for over the past few weeks.
I've been living for others to say good things about me. I've been living for others to love me fiercely before I love them. I've been waiting for my recognition and for someone to pat me on the back publicly. I've been waiting to fit in with the rest of the MC Bubble and telling myself that I deserve to be recognized, loved, applauded, etc.
How arrogant. How sickeningly vain I have been.

Over the past 5 years or so of my life I've realized I basically never get anything I want. And by that I mean I will be wishing for something and then not get it and realize that it was a selfish desire. For example: Jobs (summer camps, summer part-time, etc.), Scholarships (Presidential, outside scholarship contests),  Honors titles/programs (Mortar Board, Who's Who, etc.), Relationships (let's not even go there.), and those types of things. I just never get them.
Basically my selfish desires that I have gotten are: college. London. KT.
The end.
I think part of what makes it so bothersome is that I continue to seek these good things to attain, and then fall short of them.
Not that I'm not grateful- I'm so glad that God knows better than I do.
But it stinks, how much I want these things and how GOOD they are, but then I don't get them because they aren't GOD's for me.

Last night as I was bemoaning how I didn't get Who's Who (and that I deserved that honor and should've gotten it! I'm a good student, I have a great GPA and my teachers love me and WHY DIDN'T I GET IT…) and still sulking over my latest failure in the area of 'love life', God jolted me a little.
Um, Becca. They're all just titles. They're things that will sit on the shelf collecting dust and no one will remember. You have spent your year learning to listen and care and love fiercely. You're still growing, but isn't it better for your heart to be beautiful than for your resume to be?

Thanks for that one, God. Really boosts my ego.
But seriously.
I started thinking about that old song, Legacy by Nichole Nordeman.

"I don't mind if you've got something nice to say about me

And I enjoy an accolade like the rest
And you could take my picture and hang it in a gallery
Of all the who's who's and so-and-so
That used to be the best at such and such
It wouldn't matter much

I won't lie, it feels alright to see your name in lights
We all need an 'Atta Boy' or 'Atta Girl'
In the end I'd like to hang my hat on more besides
The temporary trappings of this world

I want to leave a legacy, how will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to you enough
To make a mark on things? I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed your name
Unapologetically and leave that kind of legacy

I don't have to look too far or too long a while
To make a lengthly list of all that I enjoy
It's an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile
Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon enough destroy

I want to leave a legacy, how will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to you enough
To make a mark on things? I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed your name
Unapologetically and leave that kind of legacy

Not well traveled, not well read
Not well-to-do or well bred
I just want to hear instead
"Well done good and faithful one"

I want to leave a legacy, how will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to you enough
To make a mark on things? I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed your name
Unapologetically and leave that kind of legacy

I don't mind if you've got something nice to say about me."

It suddenly all made sense. I've been seeking the trinkets, the treasure piles, and the galleries full of accolades.
How pathetic.
My family began reminding me of this when I was home for Thanksgiving (I have been so blessed to be raised by parents who are leaving marvelous legacies), and it all suddenly clicked.
Why am I not thankful for and content with my growing ability to love? Why do I feel the need to be patted on the back and loved first? Simple selfishness and fear.
Fear that I am not good enough or cool enough or lovable enough or worthy or whatever "enough" you want to fill in the blank.

Also, let's address the biblical part of this arrogance and need for recognition. In Matthew 6, God clearly addresses it: "Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites. For they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you." (Matt. 6:1-7, emphasis mine)

Ha. Thanks again, God.
Right in the heart.
Self, be reminded: God is there with you and sees what you are saying and doing. He will reward what needs to be rewarded- you must not seek it out yourself.
In doing so, you are only filling this heart blemish with more impurity to have to squeeze out later.

Little Darling teaches me.

I learn a lot of things from my students at the gym. Tonight, a new little girl started. It's her first time taking gymnastics/tumbling, but she takes dance.
Now, don't hate on me, but if a Momma comes in saying Little Darling is taking dance and wants to do gymnastics too, I assume the worst. Most of the little darlings around here that take dance are not very flexible, don't work very hard, and freak out when things hurt a little (especially stretches).
This new one was no different. She talked so much while stretching that I had to enforce that rule that no one was allowed to talk unless they were all the way down in their stretch- of course this little darling wasn't all the way down in any stretches, so she was (mostly) quiet from there on out.
As the lesson continued, she was excited/nervous about learning new things, and freaked out quickly whenever she didn't know how to do something.
At one point, we were doing handstands against the wall. I had been spotting her on several in a row while watching the other girls in the class and giving them pointers as well. A couple of them were excelling so I asked them to go stand on a line on the floor and do their handstands away from the wall. All of the sudden, I looked at new Little Darling and she's crumpled in a ball on the floor, head between her knees, crying.
I gently lifted her head, looked into her tear-filled eyes, and asked "What's wrong, sweetie? Why are you crying?"
To which she replied, "I can't do it by myseeeeeelllllllffff!" and let out a small, teary wail.
"Oh, girl. You don't have to do it by yourself! I'll be here to help you. I don't expect you to get it perfect on your first day! I just want you to keep trying. Besides, you're actually doing an awesome job for your first time, and I'm really proud of the work you're doing."

Her attitude suddenly shifted.
She stood proudly, pulled her arms up tight to her ears, and pointed her little right foot in front to show me she was ready for handstands again.
The rest of the class, she was often uncomfortable and made statements about how hard something was, or that the conditioning hurt, but she kept plugging along. She didn't cry any more, she didn't fall apart when she realized she was the only one in her class that couldn't do a specific skill. She just waited for me to come alongside her and gave it her best effort.

As I left work, listening to Taylor Swift (of course), "Innocent" came on. The words, mingled with the memory of this new Little Darling, suddenly struck me.

"Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything
And everybody believed in you?
It's alright, just wait and see
Your string of lights is still bright to me
Oh, who you are is not where you've been.
You're still an innocent…

Wasn't it easier in your firefly-catchin' days?
When everything out of reach, someone bigger brought down to you
Wasn't it beautiful runnin' wild 'til you fell asleep
Before the monsters caught up to you?…

Time turns flames to embers
You'll have new Septembers
Every one of us has messed up too
Minds change like the weather
I hope you remember
Today is never too late to be brand new."

and then it all added up.

How many times have I sat, head between my knees, tears filling my eyes, mourning my inabilities? How many times have I looked up to God and said, "But, God, I can't do it by myself"?

How easy is it for me to forget that people believe in me, that who I am is not where I've been, that I'm still innocent, that it's never too late to be brand new?

How easy is it for me to give up and assume God isn't there waiting for me to just try so He can do his thing and control my movements?

I am guilty of spending almost every minute of every day letting these thoughts and attitudes fill my heart.

It's not even out of purposeful laziness, it's just this awful hopelessness and insecurity and inadequacy that takes me over.

Then tonight He reminded me of His goodness.

His faithfulness to turn beauty to ashes, and make wonderful things out of my tiny human efforts.

His great ability to restore and make new.

Then, He answered my cries. He talked to me about the anger I've held against him these past couple of weeks. He told me he heard my prayers of Psalm 23 just a few nights ago and was answering them as I walked to Aven.

He led me beside quiet waters (quite literally… I laughed out loud as I walked between Ratliff and Provine by that awkward fountain gurgling and realized that He was *literally*, *physically* answering my prayers). Just to prove His goodness.

He is restoring my soul. 

Eventually, I'll tell you what He said to me about the anger I've been holding, and the answers to all my "Why, God?"s I've been asking lately.

Right now, I'm busy storing these things up and pondering them in my heart.

sometimes I like to beccatize things.

This is my very least favorite part of the cycle I go through with God. This part I'm in right now is the pits. Yet I keep coming back to it, slugging back through it, every few months.
The thing is, I'm not even at a "low point" so to speak, I'm just coasting. Not motivated to seek Him. Not really making any effort to become more like Him.
and oddly, uncomfortably, defiantly ok with it.
I hate it.
But I hate that I don't hate it more.
If I hated not being close to Him, I'd actually do something about it. I'm quite aware of our lack of closeness, lack of conversation, and my own distance from Him. and yet… nothing changes. I sit. I stagnate.

Lord, I need a shepherd. I need guidance and prodding, because I'm being a stupid, stubborn, distracted sheep. 
I do not want to be in want of You any more… I want You to pour Yourself out on me. Satisfy me with Your love.
Make me lie down in Your green pastures. Make me to know Your love, Your zeal, Your grace, Your rest.
Lead me beside Your quiet waters and restore my soul (and restore to me the joy of Your salvation!).
Lead me in Your paths of righteousness- not the paths my flesh chooses selfishly. 
Even when I walk through rough times- death, darkness, sadness, loneliness, desperation, drought- help me to live fearlessly. Bind fear and evil away from me, and help me to trust Your presence. Fill me, instead, with Your love and goodness. 
Comfort me with your presence and guidance. Mark me as Your own. Pull me back in with your crook. 
Prepare my future before I walk into it- a future that brings glory to You! Prepare my ways for goodness, grace, and glory. Get me ready for loving my enemies. I'm not there yet, but I know I need to be and will be. 
Anoint me. Pour Your spirit on me. Fill me with Your goodness and love.
May they follow me all the days of my life- even these humdrum plateau kinds of days that will happen along the way. Fill each one with Your goodness and lovingkindness. 

Thanks for using Psalm 23 to teach me to pray.

today, I cried hot, angry tears; and I wrote.

I got mad at God in a really weird way today. I got mad at how good He is to me when He doesn't seem to be so good to other friends of mine. It's not that I am any more faithful or deserving than anyone, so why do they not see His works as fully, quickly, and accurately as I do? How can He claim to be so good and yet fail to have equally immediate compassion on all His children? How can He alleviate my pain so effortlessly and have others struggle through the same pain for years on end, when they're banging on the door of His heart for Him to end it? This infuriated me, and as I cried and wrote out my anger, a poem of sorts formed.

Sometimes I don't believe You.
Sometimes I think I don't really need You.
Sometimes, You make me angry
and I'm not sure how to relate to You.

You said You wouldn't delay
so why do we still wait
for the salvation to arrive?

You say You're good to your flock,
yet the passing time mocks
the healing that still hasn't come.

I want to believe You,
to hear You and see You,
and trust that You're working for us.

I want to be near You,
understand You and fear You,
and know why You're taking so long.

I'm sorry I'm angry.
I'm sorry I yell-
but if You're really that "good",
You'd have compassion on those who fell.

You wouldn't stand by,
as it seems like You do;
You'd wipe tears from their eyes,
yet they wait, broken, on You.

Move, if You will.

I promise I'm not a transcendentalist.

I have this weird thing I do where I try to assign God to different inanimate things and see if it works as a metaphor of His character. It's surprising how well this works with many things, and one of the many I've been pondering lately is an ocean.

'God is an ocean.'

People claim they love the ocean, but there's always that moment when you're with someone who "loves" the beach and they start complaining about how awful it is. They hate the sand, they hate the saltwater, they hate the sunburns, they hate the unreliable weather, the list goes on.
It reminds me of the nominal, cultural Christianity that plagues America. We "love" Christ but we hate how much he demands of us, how uncomfortable he makes us, how painful it can be to follow him, how illogical his plans often seem. We "love" Christ but we spend our days whining about things that aren't going our way.

People claim they love the ocean, but then there's always that person who doesn't get in past their ankles. You're at THE OCEAN, people. Get in. Let the waves knock you down. Let your throat and eyes burn with surprising saltwater. Be submersed. It is only after immersion that you can feel the waves rock you to sleep long after you have walked back in from the water.
It reminds me of the many times I sit in God's presence only dipping in my toes and wishing to still feel his presence. Then, of course, wondering why I don't "feel God". I'm not saying that after every experience with Him I should feel him- honestly I really don't think God is a super-feely being. I'm reminding myself, though, that if I want to find God, hesitantly dipping my toes in isn't going to cut it. Immersion and total loss of self and sense of direction and being caught up in the rip tide is necessary to fully understand God (which is why none of us do understand Him fully... we never let ourselves be swept away. We anxiously swim parallel to shore hoping to get back to 'safety'.)

If you want to feel the effects of the ocean, ya gotta get in the ocean.

Also, there's the whole wideness and deepness thing that David Crowder's How He Loves already covered for us: His grace is an ocean. We're all sinking.
And let's talk about the storminess.
A sea storm is a pretty frightening thing to behold, even just a tropical storm, much more a hurricane.
His jealousy over me is like the force of a hurricane.
His love is 90-mile-an-hour winds, and I am a sapling pine tree, not really sure what I'm doing growing near the beach anyway. I can't help but be overwhelmed and bent over by the weight of His wind and mercy.
"All of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions, eclipsed by glory- and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your affections are for me."
The moment comes when I'm terrified of being blown straight over or ripped out of the ground and suddenly everything else grows "strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace." All the 'afflictions' I am 'suffering' from don't matter. All I can see is His glory. His Shekinah Glory. His presence on me and in me and around me.
All I can see is His beauty and love. All I can remember is His faithfulness and justice and righteousness, no need to try to recall what life was like before this stormy sea took me over. I am undone.

Shouldn't that be the essence of 'christianity'? Shouldn't that be what children are taught to seek, instead of seeking to be a 'good' person? Shouldn't we be passing on to others the ability to be completely caught up, knocked over, and wasted for all other strains of 'goodness' aside from Him!?

But we cannot pass on the thirst for this moment, because we don't let ourselves experience it. We see our sin compared to His glory and we cannot handle it. We see the storm coming and we evacuate. We hide. It's been true since the very first humans experienced Him: "Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked... And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden." (Gen. 3:7-8)

It is impossible for one to tell another how frighteningly wonderful the ocean is if he has only ever stood on the shoreline and watched the clouds come, before he goes running for cover.
Only after standing in awe of the might and marveling over the strength of the storm and being caught in the middle of the deafening thunder, blinding lightning, and driving winds and rains are we able to talk to others about the ocean, and completely understand it ourselves.

Can I say this again? LETTING YOUR EXPERIENCE WITH GOD STOP AT A CERTAIN LEVEL AND NOT LETTING HIM OVERTAKE AND WRECK EVERY AREA OF YOUR LIFE IS HYPOCRISY AND STUPIDITY. I am not condemning you, reader, for I stand on the shoreline every day and many days fail to dive into the ocean.
But I have chosen to dive in the past, and those short times of total immersion and being tossed about by the waves have taught me that God moves most and best when we open every area of our lives to Him. We feel the ocean most and best when we lay in it for hours being rocked and tossed about.

God is an ocean and He cannot be understood simply by being talked about or 'seen'. God is an ocean and to be His, we must swim straight into the rip current and float along with it and let it wash over us and rock us and shift us to where we need to be. God is an ocean and He therefore belongs to all of us, and there is more than enough of Him for all of us. He will never run out, never stop being, and we will never be able to see the end of Him.