Fearful Love

There's just something about attending a wedding. Maybe it's the joy getting to watch the love of the happy couple openly expressed and joining in the celebration with family and friends or maybe (at least for one little girl) it's getting to stay up later than one's usual bed time, eating way too many sweets, dressing up in a special princess dress and blowing bubbles over two people happily taking off on a new adventure. As a teenager as I attended several weddings of various family and friends, I would look at the bride and groom and the festivities going on around them thinking to myself, 'Someday that's going to be me. I'm going to reach the age point when all of my friends will be getting engaged and married; maybe even me.'

Eventually it happened, I grew up and my life is now filling up with the excitement of celebrating the blessing of love and commitment that those who are dear to me have found.Through the whirlwind of it all I have managed to stay single and happy. It is not that I never want to get married or have sworn off men forever, (though I do often joke about it) but rather I am somewhat selfishly pursuing a relationship with God and a deeper understanding of what perfect love is. My journey started when several people who I dearly loved were taken away from me and I began to question why I should risk the pain of love and ask what kind of love I was giving and have been given. I evaluated the desires and attachments of My Heart and found that my relationship with God was greatly lacking; and thus I set off to try to find out how God loves me and how I was made to love Him in return.

I thought it would be fun for me to celebrate February and Valentines with you by sharing what God has been teaching me about love - of all kinds; strong, crazy, lost, impatient, romantic perfect love. I'm starting this series out by asking you a question:

How do you love God?

It is easy to define how one serves God or how one praises Him; but is it even possible for us to love God? Sure, I can say that my actions are motivated by a love for God, but taking a step back and looking at the relationships people throughout history have had with God, the same behavior was driven by fears. We go about our lives doing good things, maybe even great things, praising God trying to redirect the glory to Him, but is this because we love God or because we are afraid of Him? Afraid that we are too awful for Him or afraid that God could become angry and turn His back on us if something is or isn't done; afraid of the possibility wasting our gifts, afraid of being alone. God is great and powerful, and His righteous wrath really, really scares me.  It would be foolish to ignore these traits of God, and even the apostles acknowledged His power. So how do you love such a great a terrible God?

The early Christians had to answer this very question in an environment that made them appear like they were ignorantly walking in a loins den. The world in which they lived in worshiped several gods and goddesses whose mystical powers was thought to cause great punishment if they ever became displeased. There were statues and temples for these gods everywhere and the people were so scared of offending any powerful being that they erected a alter to a 'unknown god'. It is no wonder that the idea of loving God caused thoughts of 'they're crazy' or 'their god obviously isn't powerful' to be made and voiced. In one of his letters, Paul assures the Christians in Corinthia that they weren't crazy but were blessed to know what it was to fear the Lord (2 Corinthias 5:11).

There is a very big difference between fearing God and being afraid of God. When you are afraid of God everything is driven on uncertainty and the panic of pain, but the fear of God is based on knowing God so well that you are in awe of Him; but the fear of the Lord is much more than knowledge if Him and His traits, because stacked up facts don't amount to much and have the potential to turn into hate. John explains that knowing God, openly accepting Him and pursuing a greater understanding of Him, leads to loving God.  (John 4:7-19)

For the longest time I tied a string around my heart and let God hold the other end of the string instead of letting Him hold my heart in His hands. I would follow the tugs on my heart to behave and love others as God would love them instead of loving them with God.

It is quite impossible for me to hug God, but I can learn about Him and seek to know Him more. To have my amazement about Him push me to know Him better; to become yet more amazed and want to know Him even more. To know Him so well that I can walk closer and closer to Him until I move perfectly along with Him (Micah 6:8).

Now this is love!

A Thank You Letter to God

By the end of this week the 'illegal' status of listening to Christmas music will be lifted and I can come out of hiding, as I have been listening to Christmas music since before Halloween- yup, I am one of those people. And I'm willing to confess that our habit of starting our celebration extremely early can be slightly obnoxious and annoying, however I will only offer you a small apology. Sorry.

In all fairness, I do acknowledge that I can sometimes rush over Thanksgiving in my excitement of the nearness of Christmas, and in attempts to fully explore the things that I have to be grateful for I wrote a thank you letter to God and I thought I would share it with you.

 

Dear God,

I wish I could say that I thank you every day for little things you bless me with, but it don't.
Perhaps my mind a gets clouded with momentary stress and my heart gets forgetful with temporary happiness. No matter the reason, I am extremely far behind in saying thank you.

I want to start by saying I am extremely thankful for the people you have put into my life. You have given relationships with missionaries around the world to mentor me and show me how to spread your joy. Friends who take the time to listen to my sorrows and make me smile. And the family you have blessed me with knows me perfectly and supports me in all of my trails and victories.

The knowledge that you are watching over me and caring about my troubles, makes me feel very honored and grateful. You have always provided for my needs, why do I worry?

Thank you for loving me and allowing me the privilege of learning how to love you in return. (and man, is it fun being loved by you!)

Then there are all of the little things; the opportunity to learn and grow, my ability to swim, the fun I find in varies activities. The warmth of the sunshine, the beauty of the snow, the healing of laughter, the nurturing of tears. I would have to write on and on and on and on before I even put a dent in a proper list of thank yous I have for you; but since I am limited by time and you are not, I guess that these letters are going to have to happen more often than on Thanksgiving.


Thank you (for everything and then some!)

It's Cold Outside

It is cold outside, really cold. I'm pretty sure that it is in the low teens, and it is one of those days that I am so immensely grateful to be inside, and that I have a place to escape the cold. I grew up in sunny California, and am not used to winters that are this cold (at least not yet), therefore I have no self control in the amount I complain to those around me about how cold I think it is. America's heartland can drop to freezing really quickly and the way the frozen wind blows you around makes you double take your actions because sometimes the degree of your friendliness matches your surroundings. Okay, that is not really true for everyone who lives out here, but I did warn you that I am really good at complaining within this category. As pathetic as this sounds, I was quite content to remain that person who focused on my discomfort in the cold, and no one really challenged me to change my mind, that is until yesterday.

Yesterday I was driving home from church and I pass a man standing on the corner of an intersection holding a sign reading 'Homeless. Merry Christmas.'  I recognized the man as I had seen him in the same spot the week before. Now, I always keep some kind of food and water-bottles in my car to give to the homeless I pass, but as I was getting ready to drive by him, I decided that instead of giving him a granola bar and a water bottle, I was going to go to the nearest Mcdonald's, get hot chocolate and something warm to eat and I was going to go and talk to him.  This decision was a little out of the ordinary for me, as I am fully aware of how potentially dangerous it is for a young lady to approach a stranger alone, but it was an extremely busy and public intersection and I wondered when was the last time someone took the time to talk to the man who so frequently appeared on that corner. So hot chocolate and cinnamon melts in hand I walked up to the stranger, praying that God would keep me safe and give me the right words to say, because I had not really thought through that part out.

David, he told me his name was David. And with a crooked tooth smile that was beautiful and full of laughter he kindly corrected me when I replied 'It's nice to meet you Jeremy!' Where in the world did I get the name Jeremy from? Well, I definitely goofed that one up, I thought to myself, but David amazingly was still willing to talk to me. He told me that like me, he had spent a good portion of his life in California and that he had come out to Missouri to be close to family. He excitedly shared with me his story of helping build a steel-something highway/track thing-a-ma-jig that can be seen in the movie The Terminator 2. And when I asked him how did he stand the cold after leaving California (my toes were numb at this point in the conversation) he told me that God made both hot and cold and he thanked Him for both-that he was just thankful that he could feel the cold. I'm not sure if it was the icy wind or the reminder of how blessed I am, but I almost cried. David then told me that he had a camp set up in southern Springfield and I told him that I would not survive they way he did and that his attitude amazed me. I would have stayed and talked with David longer, but he told me that my nose was turning bright red and that I should probably go and warm up. Wishing him a happy holidays, I left, questioning my own reaction to the cold.


"Give thanks in all circumstances." 1Thessalonians 5:18

All circumstances -Yup- even in the cold. 

I can't promise that I will completely stop complaining about being frozen, but I thank God for this cold. What a great reminder to count my blessings and thank God for all He has made.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Still

I have heard it said that crying helps to cleanse one's mind and while I am not really sure if that worked for me I have had some (more) time and tears to sort through my feelings. Grief is a very funny thing, it seems to often come out of no where and multiply. Sometimes I feel like with all of the things going on in my life to distract me and the amount of time that has passed since my father died, that I would be able to adapt, that the pain would lessen, and I wouldn't cry as much. Thinking logically, I am rather shocked at how much I cried after J. died, after all, unlike many of my friends, I had had the opportunity to say good-bye to her. I hugged her tightly and said good-bye knowing that there may be a chance that we wouldn't see each other again this side of heaven; and yet, when I heard the news of her accident and passing, I entered a depressed state, full of nights of tears and nearly late assignments as my study habits slowed to a crawl. In my shock I ranted and raved at all of you about how much I did not like change . Unfortunately, feelings like this are doomed, as everything is constantly changing, the world around us, those I love and even myself. And while I was pouting over my inability to avoid this painful change, mentally demanding of God to tell me one thing in my life that did not- does not - change, a simple phase came to mind,

"Jesus no cambia."

I learned this sentence during my time in Panama, and besides Ayudarme! (help me!) and ¿Cómo estás?(How are you?) it is the only Spanish I have managed to keep in my memory.


"Jesus no cambia."

"Jesus does not change"

The children would follow us through the village yelling this at the top of their voices with passion and excitement. And who wouldn't? As the memory of children rejoicing, I wanted to run through the streets myself shouting 'I am loved by a God who does not change!' While I go through the ups and downs of life, He is still with me, still knowing me, still loving me. 

 

Unlike my restless heart and nature, God is Still - calm, steady, resistant to change. He is good, always has been and always will be. He is the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows (James 1:17). And I am okay because He is still God.

And it's okay for me to change; for me to grieve. For me to mourn for those who I have loved.

 Last week my family sent several balloons to heaven in celebration of what would have been my father's birthday. (And yes, I realize that those balloons will probably send a couple of sea turtles to heaven as well.)

It has been 1,320 days since my father died, and I still miss him. I still cry.

But God is still good.

Change

This morning I found out that a dear childhood friend of mine suddenly passed away and it hurt, really hurt. All of the biology knowledge I have stored up in my brain is telling me that death is just a part of life and that life is not be possible with out it; but in my heart I know that death is the absence of life - there is no death without life first. Childishly, I wish I could assist death in choosing who it took, and argue that J., who was so full of life and passion, should have been on the bottom of the list. To say that death quite simply cannot rob the world of the treasure we all found in her. I want to stomp my feet and throw myself in the middle of the floor yelling and screaming that things shouldn't change.

I don't like change.

While it is exciting to watch my friends grow up and strive for amazing careers as doctors, teachers, counselors, firefighters, nurses, missionaries, pilots and soldiers, I constantly think about the days when we were little and played basketball in the park, had late summer night bonfires and randomly danced and sung together. Sometimes I just don't want to grow up, but return to the happy days of my childhood, back to the days when I didn't worry so much about my future and following the standard of others, but lived with a pure and simple joy. Spending my childhood with J. I never would have guessed that the power to continue spreading joy throughout the world would be given to me instead of her. I always thought that J. was going to live an extraordinary life, and  I would excitedly say 'I know that girl!'. J. did live and extraordinary life, and blessed and touched so many people, but here am I, dealing with change and only getting to say that 'I knew that girl'.

Well, I guess I can say more than that. I can say that I knew that girl and was extremely blessed by her kindness and caring. I can say that I knew that girl and was motivated by her passion and love for Jesus and supported by her friendship. And because I knew that girl, I am forever...changed.

Vending Mechine Troubles

***Warning: This post was very difficult for me to write and may be difficult to read. What you read below contains a personal struggle and conclusion; it is in no way is the sole answer or opinion about prayer. The way you communicate to your Savior is a very personal thing and I respect the way all of your experiences and love for God have created your own unique way of praying. The only goal of this post is share the lesson taught to me in hopes to remind you how powerful prayer is and perhaps trigger you to rethink about this unique gift we have.

My post about Morning Weights and Prayers last week got me thinking about another lesson I have learned about praying.  Questions about prayers are numerous; how to pray, when to pray, what is it okay to pray for? Type any of those questions into a internet search engine and hundreds upon hundreds of answers pop up, and in this post, I'm not trying to add to these answers, but to simply share with you one of my biggest struggles and what it helped me learn.

This time of year can be hard on me as it is the time of year when a lot of people come together to raise money for cancer and celebrate those who survived; it is also very near to my father's birthday. (For those of you new to this blog, bout three years ago I lost both my father and grandmother to cancer within eleven months of each other.) As those around me rally against cancer, I look back at my personal battle with the disease, and the thing my father told me a few months before he died stands out. I was very angry at the time, and I asked my father why he wasn't mad at God for bringing this upon him and not answering our pleas for healing. He calmly answered me by telling me,

"Glorydawn, God can't be put in a box for our convenience. He is not a vending machine that we can just put prayers into and get what we want out." 

I thought what he said was ridiculous, we were all earnestly praying and trusting God to complete His will, which at the time I thought was to do a miracle and heal my father. My prayers weren't selfish! And I definitely wasn't treating God like a vending machine! With this way of thinking, naturally I was quite upset when my father died. I had done everything right, begged, pleaded and bargained; asked God to heal my father, to guide the doctors' hands.  Why? Why did such a loving God cause the cancer to be unresponsive to treatment and for surgery to go wrong? Why? I like an enraged child shook, rattled, kicked and pounded on my God 'vending machine'.

Thank goodness, God has been patient with my demanding questions. And even though He hasn't shown me the answer to why, He has revealed some of His characteristics and feelings to me. In Hosea God says with a broken heart, "When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me. [Their] love is like the morning mist, like the early dew that disappears." (13:6 & 6:4). Jeremiah gives an account one of one of the times this happened. The people of Judah had prayed the 'perfect' prayer, saying exactly what they need to say in repentance and God looked into their hearts and saw that their love and repentance was not strong and true. (14:11- 15:1) The people of Judah were shocked that the Lord did not take their perfect prayer and return to them what they wanted, and when God told them that if even if they found the 'perfect' people to say the prayer for them He won't give them what they wanted, the people still didn't understand that it wasn't in their power to control God.

As my father tried to teach me, and I what now understand, God is not a vending machine into which we can insert what we deem are 'perfect prayers' and then receive what we want, when we want it. There are no number combinations to punch in to turn on showers of blessings, and prayers aren't like coins we can insert into a lifeless machine. We have the opportunity to talk directly with an amazing God, and when we pray we can tell Him exactly how we feel without having to cover it with a mask in fear of offending Him.

I now spend my prayers, talking on a personal level with my Savior. I tell Him my worries, excitements and fears. And while I still ask for blessings, no longer stand around impatiently  kicking a dead machine for the blessings I thought I paid for.

Morning Weights and Prayers

Yikes! It's been a whole month since my last post! Midterms are finally over, and even though I've been really busy this last month, I have really missed connecting with you through this blog; so let me catch you up on a little bit of my life at the moment. Last week my team started a new block of exercises, and I am seriously beginning to doubt my ability to move.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning {bright and early} you'll find me in the Student-Athlete Strength Center (our fancy name for the weight room).

5:30 am rolls around and I'm up to go to practice and then to classes, but inwardly saying 'bother everything' - to everything. I'm pretty sure that you have all experienced this feeling at one point in your lives; that morning when you just want to ignore your alarm and do your best not to move so your body doesn't have the opportunity to remind you that you have 650 muscles and you are indeed mortal. If I'm honest, I brought this pain on myself. I have not lifted weights of any kind for several years, and now to keep up with my teammates, I am forcing my body to call upon strength that simply is not there. (I am getting stronger - very slowly - and who knows? I may even get my abs back.)

All of this whining to you is not for no reason, for morning weights and the pain and soreness that comes with it have reminded me of another area of my life that has the same results and consequences as strengthening and conditioning my muscles - prayers and my time with God. Talking with my Lord, who made me, knows me and adores me, sounds like a relatively easy thing to do - but for at least right now, it is not. When overwhelmed with midterms and the stress of getting everything I need to do done, my time and talks with God quickly crumbled.

Peter tells us in that we need to be clear minded and self-controlled so that we can pray (1 Peter 4:7). Praying is not easy, and just like with weight training, it needs to be slowly built up and maintained or else it becomes difficult to do and easy to skip. We need to purposefully and daily take time to spend with our Lord. And though this is difficult to do sometimes, what we are straining towards it so much better than a set of six pack abs; it is a strong and enduring relationship with our great and glorious God!