He'll Never Fail You...

It's been awhile...

I no longer look at life through the same lenses: I had to give them up. I had to come into the new way, all that He had prepared for me.

Brokenness remains: it probably always will. A part of you is never the same after you walk through a season of pain, loss of identity or a deep shake in your confidence: you've been marked forever by what you've gone through...

...and that's not necessarily a bad thing.

You come into hope in a different way. You walk into a room more aware of--living in and out of--your Savior's love. You have to let go of preconceived notions, what others may think of you and all the ways that you know you don't measure up. Those don't serve you any longer. You can't live out of fear. Your old patterns are dead, broken--and you remain...

Free.

It's a new word...and your old patterns fight against it. You almost wish it were easier. Freedom means flight and soaring: all wonderful in theory, but at the end of the day, you (who only know your old patterns) find fear to be the least stressful. Free: that brings connotations that the old patterns really don't like.

But you have to break free (even and especially if no one around you understands it).

It sounds strange, but you have to let God break you.

New flight patterns.

Broken ways undone: there's not even a way to return to them.

The breaking will look different in every life...

...and its necessary for you to move forward.

But it doesn't mean that your old ways won't try to haunt you.

(that's what this song is about: Do It Again, probably why I have it on repeat as I write and was playing it on the guitar before I wrote this blog)

The enemy hates who you are and what you are destined for. And that's okay. That's what he does. But in the places where he finds a breach--or the places where he's constantly trying to create one--there's probably an amazing blessing there for you. If you can endure it--and you can, He (God) has already put all the steps in place, all of it orchestrated by His hands...it may look really messy as you walk it out, but walk it out you shall.

I don't think it was any coincidence that one of the last blogs I put on this site was about breaking off fear in worship. I still fight it: had to face it tonight. But God is faithful to work it through with me. He will never fail me...

He will never fail me.

The Race: I Just Got Invited Back in Again

I just got invited back in again.

When I was preparing to come out here to Ireland the first time, I spent a few days and months not working, just preparing. I had to move apartments and use money that I didn’t necessarily have: but the Lord was providing. On one of those days, I went by a park where I used to run as a kid and there it was: the cross country races in full swing.

Of course, I was caught up in the nostalgia. I used to be a runner myself: I remembered the agony and grit required, how quickly it all went by, the feeling of waiting to just start out (awful!). I wrote a grand little paper later that day on running the race together that I asked all of my soon-to-be-teammates to read (they thought I was a bit nuts, poor things. Mores the pity for them.) But God was doing something, reminding me that there is a race to be run and inviting me in, at my old stomping grounds.

Races are hard, ardous, deadly-feeling things. It’s all over really quick, but the blood, sweat and tears in the middle can leave you feeling as though you haven’t a hope in the world: best give up now. You can especially feel that way when you’re the girl who is so slow that your friend can go to the bathroom in the middle of the race and still find herself with a better time than you (that was a humbling day). I remember one race where we had been practicing in really wet, soggy conditions and then race day was dry dust and I lost heart…but we’ll finish that story in a bit.

Races…races are about the endurance, the anticipation of what’s around the next corner without letting that become your whole focus. They’re about running well right now, being fully present, with an ear and an eye to the future, knowing what is to come and that the energy you’re exerting now is worth the gain to come in the future.

I was never any good at races. I was never good at endurance. I hadn’t the head for it: I couldn’t—or maybe I never learned—to take what was in front of me and crush it so that I could reach my ultimate goal. I have had countless conversations with my mother where I tell her about what is in front of me (in a panic) and she calmly explains to me that the mountain I think is in front of me is actually a molehill.

It’s a crazy thing to race, to actually believe in oneself and move forward despite the jeers and catcalls and overwhelming doubt you can feel in the crowd. If you tune in, it can capsize you. My first race in college, I was competing against schools in the Title I division. In other words, they were the best in the nation as it came to cross country. Stanford was there, for gosh sakes! I was cart girl in that race: dead last, with the man on a cart following to make sure we all knew where the field of players was divided: just in case a winner happened to pass me, we’d still be sure to know who I was.

But you know what: I was in the race.

I take myself out of the race so often. I lose heart, get discouraged, stop making available what I have been gifted with when I perceive that it’s not being appreciated…gosh, I act a baby sometimes! And the body of Christ around me suffers for it, suffers for my selfishness, my selfish ambition, my unwillingness to reach out in love. 

I’m in a new season currently, reevaluating. What do I want out of life, what do I need? It’s a time of introspection, looking at deep wounds (far too often self-inflicted) and choosing—as I see myself clearly—to move forward with confidence: fully aware of myself, my faults and all that I perhaps can’t change and also aware of who I want to be, dreaming about how to get there and offering myself again to the world around me.

I want to be back in the race.

I am currently in Dublin. I have a few days here, seeing off my last students as they take off back to their respective homes. The lot of them has gone off to explore with one of their families and there wasn’t room enough for me in the car. I had (well, at first I was miffed by it and then I chose it) to stay behind at the hotel. There’s a glorious pond with swans and a wonderful park nearby. In search of a place to write, I took off into the park. The girls who entered before me had duffel bags hanging on their shoulders and I presumed that they were football (American soccer) players, that being the sport of choice in these parts. As we (I following these girls) made our way toward the center of the park, I saw more and more students around their age and then: a race marked out clearly, and all of them either walking or jogging it. As I walked past a microphone (nearly blasted my ear off) a female voice cheered, “Welcome to the Irish National Championships!” I had stumbled upon a race, and one with a prize to win no less. I felt the invitation again: what would you do?

What could you do? What can you do, when invited into this race with Him. I tell you what you’ll do:

You’ll run in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.

For me that means putting aside the straight up laziness that often keeps me form accomplishing anything. It means gathering people around me who will encourage me and help me to keep training, no matter what the ‘weather’ conditions may be. It means choosing to take on each new day as a new day and then going forward establishing and living out as a pattern in my life to choose forgiveness. It means discarding all the sin that tries so hard to entangle and throwing off every weight that tries to hinder: I want to run free! It means being a living sacrifice, making these choices every day for as long as it is called a ‘day’.

            I’ll end with this, for those who are fainthearted. The story I began earlier, the dry, dusty championship race, didn’t end well. I hardly placed, didn’t help my team much and just fell into feeling an utter failure. Fear was winning and I got so overwhelmed, I almost started walking. There just wasn’t any point to this anymore.

It was then I heard an inner voice say, “I’ll never give up on you, even when you give up on yourself.”

That moment changed: and is still changing, a lot of things in me. To know that the God of the Universe is still rooting for me, will never give up on me, even when I am besieged on all sides and so unsure of how to move forward. His love never changes and in the small schemata that is my life, He has grand designs. I can’t see them yet and can hardly believed He’d deign to glance my way but its true: it’ll always be true and never stop being true that He is obsessed with me and all the details of my life. He has directed so well so far: how could I ever just wander into Irish National Cross Country Championships? And only He would know how significant that would be for me. I take away today what I overheard one coach say: “Don’t think over the whole race, it’s too much. Concentrate on doing the section you’re in really well.”

Yes Coach.

You are Good Enough

Humility...

It makes me quake a little to even broach this subject. It is a topic written about, pondered on and emulated throughout all ages. Many have written about it, displayed it in their lives, seen it in others--its a multi-faceted subject that I do not have all the puzzle parts to.

But I want to try...

And that above statement is exactly where I am with humility right now. Humility, not properly seen in my life (and mixed with many other lies and misinformation), used to make me shrink back and let others take places I could have filled but...didn't choose to. Humility used to mean, 'let others do what they're better at anyway. They deserve to be seen and praised. You do what is safe, what is comfortable for you.'

This false humility caused me to miss out on a lot of growth.

Because being seen, as you truly are, is terrifying. Showing forth what you have created from the depths of your being, whether its a bit of writing, a song or just some words of wisdom that need to be spoken out; puts you in a place of vulnerability. Once it's out there: once you have spoken as a leader on a subject that may not be taken well by a group or performed your piece or sang your song...once it's out, it's out. It can never be taken back and now others can prod at it and make judgements and draw their own conclusions about you and what you bring to the table.

It's easier to be hidden. Stay safe. Don't share your gifts and don't let on how you really feel.

It's also a lot more selfish.

God has been dealing with and showing me just how selfish I am the last few months. It's astonishing and a bit terrifying really. I am glad God deals with us as we are able to take it, because (whew) it's just not pretty sometimes.

I was scared, shared and was vulnerable yesterday. I have been fighting fear of man as it comes to my worship leading--specifically, the freakin' guitar! Love/hate relationship strong there. Love my guitar, I hate how I am not a rockstar yet (see the word 'yet'...I do have hope for myself). But I can get so stuck in my head, so aware (stinking' inner voice) of just how unqualified I am that I can't even perform. I cut myself right out of the race before I ever get there. I was terrible when I started (yay for being left handed and playing a right handed guitar) but it has been years and though I am no...whatever guitar players name you want to put in that space! I can still do it.

And I need to. I shared exactly how I was feeling with my (thankfully) supportive staff and students...yay for crying! They prayed and fought for me and I went on to lead worship that day...and it was good.

It was good.

False humility has me backstabbing myself all the time and keeping me from going forward. Plain ol' humility sees me as I am with my limitations and knows...that is good. By no means perfect, but good. I offered what I had, all of it, and it was good that I took on the part I was supposed to play in that moment fully so that others could benefit.

You are good enough for what is in front of you.

Battle with Insignificance

 Whenever you’re starting out somewhere new, a piece of you—the one that’s still trying to prove itself and doesn’t quite understand grace—will be trying to show, desperately, just how good you are and how fit for the job. For all of us struggling procrastinators and oldest children with perfectionist tendencies, this can be the (figuratively) the death of us! We struggle so hard to be liked and to please and have such a hard time accepting the compliments and well wishes that come our way that we can swamp out all the good with our self doubt.

I write from where I am: a new place where my old ‘striving’ and ‘trying to prove myself’ tendencies have kept me on my toes in my mind for far too long. Despite multiple assurances of my place here and how valued I am, I can’t get through my head that I’m doing well. I must strive, I must forge ahead, I must do things in a new way and see results and…this is exhausting and has no fruit.

As I recall, there’s a Hebrew word for this…the word literally means to walk about in a circle. When we are stuck trying to prove ourselves, we get nowhere. And as we get nowhere, because we have refused to simply be His children and move as He calls, we get really frustrated. So we try even harder…and the circle in the dirt gets deeper but…it’s still a circle in the dirt.

In this last season, I’ve found that the real battle is with the lie the enemy has tried to put on me: insignificant. It has coloured all my perceptions and my thoughts; it has created barriers between me and those I could love in this new environment because I am constantly on the look out for their assessment of my performance.

Dwelling under insignificance, like fear (which I have battled through working under), makes for terrible working conditions to say the least. It will keep you from your full potential, if left unchecked. It becomes the net by which you are ensnared and there, caught in your own imperfect assessments as well as the cruelly (by you) interpreted assessments of those around you…you find…a cage…a prison…the white walls…are you understanding me?

You are trapped in bondage, that which you were never meant to endure has become your prison sentence.

Every word, thought, deed is filtered through this mask that keeps you from seeing life as it truly is. And you can’t escape it: your mind goes with you wherever you go, overanalyzing, trying to justify and reading into everything…it really becomes a bore.

The first step in reclaiming your life from insignificance is acknowledging it. As ‘we’ (all those books and workshops whose focus is to bring inner healing) have learned through the years, the first step toward solving a problem is noticing the problem is there. Well done you.

Second, confession. This is basic…but it works. There’s no formula: it’s just simply letting God and any person who you feel needs to know that your life is feeling pretty ratty. Acknowledging that, as well as what a lie it is, can be really freeing.

Confession also frees you in that there is power in speaking out the things you struggle with, particularly to God. Once you acknowledge your sin (in this case a false mindset) it says He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. So it’s pretty simple: you, bring Him your mess. He takes care of it. I like this…

Third: be yourself, even if sometimes in your own estimation you seem like too much or have too much to say or do things you think other people will think are weird. God created you as you: He must have had a reason. I think you are a pretty big deal in His world: and you are in ours too. Please offer yourself with all your tweaks and quirks, I promise you, you will find people who love your authentic self. (Trust me, I’ve done it!) Authenticity coupled with vulnerability will create strong beautiful relationships in your life—and those are worth having. Relationships, after all, will carry over into the next life, though they will be changed. Build them, don’t let anything, especially insignificance, bar you from them.

Now when I say, “be as you are”; I hope you realize I’m not giving a licence for sin. If you have things you need to be working through…work through them with the Lord before the people He has put as accountability partners in your life. Don’t be a mess just to be a mess: you were made to be a blessing. But DO let God heal the parts of who you are that may have been repressed or rejected. If someone told you you have big teeth and it’s made you afraid to smile anymore…please bring that to God and ask Him to show you how beautiful you are. If you can’t wear swimsuits anymore because someone made a comment that your butt is too big, forget them! Ask God to show you who you are. It may take a while to sift through it all (sometimes we have a lifetime behind us full of junk) but God is willing and faithful and will bring things up as you can deal with them. He’s good like that. Always be replacing lies people have put onto you with the truth as God shows it to you. Remember, He don’t make junk.

I think that’s it: be authentic, be real, be loved…keep working past ANY lies that keep you in the dark. The Father of lights does give good gifts—I pray you’ll be on the lookout for them and receive them from Him. He is so good…and He does such good work in you, as you allow Him.

Walking with the Lord…

Passion for Identity to be Found...in a Pub

This is just me processing, so please take it all with a grain of salt and remember grace. I don’t pretend to understand all I see fully, but I seek to do the best I can with the insight I am given.

I’ve been living in Ireland for about a month and a half and yesterday was my first pub day. It’s just generally not a normal thing for me to go to pubs and the only thing that pulls me there is the possibility of hearing live traditional Irish music. I have loved Irish music since my first exposure to it—something just lights up in my soul when I hear those melodies.

So, it was a little Kansas girl’s birthday and we ventured into the scene…and it was a scene, not pretty. I just couldn’t get comfortable—and partly it was that none of my silly expectations were met. We trekked to several pubs, none of them had live music going and then we finally stayed at one pub, but when the music came on at nearly 11 o’clock, it was all just rock and roll covers. I’m watching Irish students trying to be American singers and everything in me realizes how wrong this is: I just know that this nation is one which has a beautiful soul, hidden underneath a lot of despair and regret and things lost. And when I see them just copying someone else (and my culture at that) and not being true to the creativity, joy and hope which is central to this nation, it makes me go a little crazy inside. I know there’s more. I know you were made for ore. I know that joy and deep hope can burn in you—if you’ll just move forward into knowing who you are and what you are made for.

When we finally left, I went winging out, kicking my legs in the air and just ranting about passion that draws people in and identity and…it was overwhelming, this rising up in me. I just love my city and I hate to see them living half-hearted lives when so much life is available and offered to them. And I don’t hate pubs, I might end up playing at one of them in the future: I just hate seeing people be inauthentic. We were each made unique with beautiful gifts and talents which, when handed over to the Lord, will become beautiful glimpses of all that He is in all His creativity and joy and diversity. I want people to become completely themselves, aware of their identity and redeemed to go victoriously out to become all that He made them to be.

That’s all I want.

That’s it really.

That’s all I want.

This school has been incredible. And the girls want to get out and do life where others can see, not just be in our building. So we are going to go out and do some ‘busking’ (street performing) next Saturday, the 5^th. Please be praying for us as we go, that the atmosphere of the city would be changed, and life would come as people stop and ask, what is this?

There is a deep hunger in people, that they can’t recognize or access on one level because they’ve never been exposed to anything which causes the hunger to arise.

Pray for hunger in Sligo city. Pray against ritual and legalism and that people will have encounters with the living God.

Choosing the Selah in Life

Discipleship.

It’s a word that keeps becoming clearer even as it gets fuzzier. It involves being deeply involved in lives, realizing their struggles and calling them deeper, while at the same time having to look yourself in the face: “Can I ask this of them when I know at times it hasn’t been true of myself?”

It’s seeing a whole life: it’s fears and triumphs, moments of surprise and victory, celebration, defeat, and saying, “My life is worth that. I will see them through whatever life throws at them, simply because they are worth it.”

It requires love.

It requires faith.

It requires letting go of yourself, all the while trying to analyze yourself: “Am I doing this right? Am I doing a good job? Am I…?”

I was given the word “selah” at the beginning of this school. The word that is so confusing to all Biblical scholars and others trying to interpret the Bible that they just call it a “pause” and link it to other terms (often relating to music) that they know.

That word though, in all of its confusion, makes sense for this season in my life. There is so much I need to figure out—that I truly can’t on my own. I am wading into the deep, unknown territory—doing and being asked to do things that I have no clear bearing on—all the while so aware of my faults and fears, all that makes up the very imperfect me.

And yet: Selah.

Pause.

Meditate.

Realize that some things just aren’t about figuring out…that some things are meant to just make you take pause, breath in again and remember who is God.

Selah.

Let go of trying to figure out your own life and remember His.

Selah.

You’re life is out of your control, out of your understanding…and that’s a very good thing.

I am doing my best to enjoy this ‘selah’ part of life, this place where I pause, meditate and pray. I am proud to know (as He reveals Himself) who God is at this point in my life and come to trust in Him deeper as He calls me to deeper things. In the tasks and appointments and life-goings on where I am without answers, I wait, pause and pray.

Selah.

My God is with me.

Selah.

He promises peace.

Selah.

He will perfect that which concerneth me…Selah