Because He is worthy.

Because He is worthy.

Friday night I stepped back into reality. After spending a week in the thick interior of the Amazon jungle (Suriname, South America), my mind is racing. I wasn’t sure what to expect upon arrival, wasn’t sure how to prepare myself, how to prepare my heart. Honestly, my only form of preparation, of defense, was prayer. I have never found myself woken up so many times throughout the night to simply, pray. This past week I restlessly woke up in the middle of the night. I allowed my body to sink deeper into my hammock when all I could do is pray. Pray for the people I had encountered and would encounter, pray for the people back home, for my heart, for this ministry, pray. I didn’t know what else to do. In those moments of head on collisions with the heart of God, my spirit broke.

It broke because I had narrowed what God has for me. When I found a place and a ministry that I was comfortable in, that I believed God had specifically for me, I stayed just there. That was the problem; that is when my heart broke. I realized that I had chosen to settle. I was active about furthering this ministry; active about seeking after ways to serve in this ministry. But I was stagnant and swiftly passed places where God is allowing me to serve. Because I thought I found my ‘nitch’ and that’s where I was going to stay. I thought He had equipped me for that one ministry, that one place. That’s it.

The Beauty: I found myself attentively and desperately listening to the Spirit softly whisper promises of being fully and perfectly equipped (which in case you weren’t aware, is totally mind-blowing) to be anywhere and to serve anyone. Anywhere, to anyone. To everyone.

My spirit also broke because I so desperately want to serve Him; to the point where the urgency of Christ’s name is now the beating rhythm of my heart.

My heart resonates with praises of the unknown, but my human thinking cries impatiently for answers. Though I do feel like my life has been mountains of uncertainty, one thing that is certain is the sovereignty of God, of His perfect and complete will. It is in that that I submit my entire being. To that, I fully trust. Yes, moments of doubt are inevitable, yes this may seem extreme, but I’ll do it. And I’ll do it with everything that is within me. Because He is worthy.

“Worthy are You, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created” Revelation 4:11

“Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given to you, just as I promised to Moses.” Joshua 1:3

Am I the only one who struggles to remember this promise? When I doubt, when I’m lonely [which I should look at loneliness with God’s purpose of preparation, then it’s not so lonely; it’s a good struggle], when I’m suffering [though no amount of suffering I endure is even comparable to the amount Christ suffered], when I’m restless, and broken. All of it has been given to me GIVEN. An opportunity to suffer for the name of Christ. Yet, my human flesh becomes weak and burdened and I slip into the world’s acceptable response of, “this is too hard for me”. But because I am HIS, “he will guard the feet of his faithful ones” (1 Samuel 2:9).

I’m in this strange place of emotions. Weeping for the desperation of this world to know a Savior, and hurting because of this world. I can’t stay in the middle. I can’t walk this line. Because when I walk this fine line, I reject so much of His sovereignty. I begin to rely on material things, nuclear friends and family, daily routines. I’m not asking the Father to interrupt my life. And, I believe that I should be praying that; earnestly begging God to the point where my soul groans (Romans 8:26) to do His will. His interruptions are perfect, divine, and priceless. And he is worthy of my response.

Consider interruptions to be trials, sufferings, hardships, fill in the blank. What if I saw and accepted every straining moment of my life to be a divine interruption interceded by the Spirit of God, my Creator? Then, could I praise Him in response? Could I acknowledge His sovereignty more readily? What if life’s interruptions were viewed as a key to heaven? And that key was accessible to me-an insect, a passer-by, a student, a human. Human, having the nature of man. Not of God, not of divinity, not of holiness. Of filth, of superficial ideals, of sin. And I have way in to eternity? It is given to me. Mind blowing.

“I delight to do your will, O my God..” Psalm 40:8

enough

If I were to be remembered for anything, I would want to be remembered for being a lover. An easy lover. I want to relentlessly love my Father. I want to relentlessly love others because of my Father. I want to love with no reservations, because Christ had none on me. Though I am broken, though I am restless, though I am sinful, I am His. How breathtaking is the Father’s love for me? For us. And how dare I try and shorten the arm of God by ‘finding it hard to love someone’.

God, You love for me-a stained creature. An insect to this inadequate world. But You love me. Regardless of my faults, of my sins that I’ve committed, that I’m thinking about committing, and that I am committing. You love me. Jesus, use me. Love your people through me. Teach me how to love in a way that can only be described by You, because God then, You are glorified. Then, You are magnified, You are seen, You are enough. I simply cannot love through You, unless I fully overwhelm myself in Your FREE and ABUNDANT love. You are enough! I need nothing else. I want nothing else, but You. Sweet Jesus, teach me.

He broke me and redeemed me all at once; something that I cannot keep to myself. I found myself at sixteen years old madly in love with my Savior. He has sufficated me in His love and I am constantly reminded of how unworthy I am. But I know that His grace covers me and I will continue to wholeheartedly praise Him and earnestly seek Him. So here I am, walking into something that I believe is completely directed by Him. And I am nothing, just a simple vessel, but my heart burns to serve for Him.

"For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in His steps" 1 Peter 2:21

Sight

Recently within the past couple of weeks something God has been teaching me, is how to see eternally. I think I’ve begun to understand (very very little) how I should be looking at this world. It is temporary. It is flawed. It is in desperate need.

I think what sparked this thought was how I’ve often let my mind slip into typical worldly thinking. The worries, the stresses, the so-called ‘happiness’ of the world. Yep. I was totally convinced. And I’m ashamed to admit that it has taken me this long to have a view of eternity before my eyes. But I’m endlessly thankful that I’ve grasped it. Even if it is still just setting in, I am grateful that I have eternity before me. That the concerns of this world cannot consume me. That nothing can separate me from eternity with my Father. That statement alone, that “No power in the sky above or in the earth below--indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38). I should have no amount of hopelessness, because I rejoice in the hope of the glory of God (Romans 5:4).

I wish I could tell you that this was a natural and easy conclusion to meet. But it just wasn’t for me. I struggled; I was caught up in the attractions of this world. Plain and simple. But what I love most about this is I now see. I see the urgency of making my Creator glorified because this earth is passing. I see eternity, always before me. But never losing sight of the desperation I’m surrounded by.

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Father, do whatever you need to do in me, so that you are glorified.

Completely humbled and awed by the love of my Father.

Relentlessly asking You to glorify yourself. Whatever it takes.

Still

I’m sure at some point or another everyone has thought their life out. It’s comforting to know that it never happens the exact way you pictured it. In that sweet moment of figuring out your life, innocence is aroused and direction seems limitless. But, it seems as though you always hit that point, the point of confusion. However it be measured, confusion is inevitable [that word is used multiple times a day in my vocabulary]. I am always confused. In my case, it is more directed at where to go next. Often pouring my soul out to the Father [as if he doesn’t ‘understand’] just asking for direction, for understanding, for some answer. I feel like I find myself maybe having an idea of where God is leading me next, then some way or another that direction is lost and I find myself at another fork in the road. Something that has been on replay in my mind is how confusion could be a blessing. Bear with me. A few months back, that thought dawned on me. What if God intended for confusion to be a blessing? So, for months I began to write in my journal about the concept, the possibility, the reasons as to why, seeking for a conclusion. And for months, I found myself just exploring the theory; never really coming to an end, never really grasping my own idea.

And then it happened. I find myself seeing confusion as frustrating rather than a catalyst to see His sovereignty. That’s all it is. Why should I try to plan out my life when my Creator knows the number of hairs on my head (Luke 12:7)? I believe that confusion is a blessing. Because ultimately, it forces me to find Direction. It is a beautiful picture.

Accompanying this confusion is complete and utter exhaustion. No, weariness. That physical and emotional feeling of being heavy burdened, tired.

I am constantly going. Every day, all the time. To experience rest in the way the Father intended, seems to be light-years away. What if the ‘cure’ for weariness was to simply, sit. Soak in the Spirit’s restoration. What if, like me, you’re terrible at that? I honestly, do not know how to just be still [and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10). I feel like that always has to be the following statement]. Can it be learned? How do I rest? I know where to find it, but how do I do it?

Confused and weary at times. Blessed to not know where I am going.

Praying that I will, with everything inside of me, fall into the arms of my Father.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

Hello Pride

I am a horrible receiver, a prideful person, struggling to accept everything from love, support, to just help. The irony is that I love to serve people; I love to give in whatever way that looks like. I truly find joy in it. But when others turn and try to bless me, I get uncomfortable. I don’t want to accept it; I want that person to use it for someone/something else. How hypocritical, how prideful am I? As a friend put it, “that seems like a slap in the face to the Holy Spirit.” Yep. As much as I want to deny that I have not been doing that, I know good and well that a pure blessing is from the Father; no human can grant that. So, when my heart refuses or struggles to receive anything, I’m struggling to receive from Him. I suppose I don’t have a good grasp on what it looks like to be blessed by others. To me, the worst part about this is that I know the root of it. I know the source, pride. But the fix is what kills me. Humility has to be one of the most difficult redemptive characteristics. -Thank you Father for desiring to mold me- Because it strips you of who you are to this world, who you are to others. The result: dirt, cleansed away and the pureness of Christ manifested in my heart.

Thinking about it, I used to only tag this whole receiving thing with gifts. But now, it’s like everything falls underneath it. And it makes sense. It makes sense why it’s hard for me to accept every little stinking thing. Pride.

Jesus, just please, gently or painfully, however. Strip away these layers of pride.