stories

So I’m caught up in this thought right now; it's one that I’ve had before. The problem is that, for whatever reason, it's super easy for me to grow numb to its reality. It’s the thought that there’s this story; a story that started before the world existed and continues to this very moment. And within that overall story is millions of other stories, all part of each other in some way. That last part is what gets me stuck … it’s all connected, it’s all intentional, it’s all been written by the same Author. Every single detail! I actually really believe that. But do you ever get hit in the face by what you believe? Do the implications ever stop you in your tracks? Does it ever overwhelm you that this is not a movie or some really intense book … it’s your life!

Knowing the incredible story of God creating this world then sending His Son to redeem what belongs to Him is huge. Huge! But living within that story? I mean, 'there’s the rub'; at least for me. Somehow I manage to creep away from His story. I adopt this mentality that my story is sort of it’s own little thing floating around without anything to control it, that the events in it are random and that I'm often alone in it. I mean, I don’t really think that, but maybe I do – at least sometimes?

So a few things about myself that I think drives me into these thoughts … 1) I love listening 2) I’m overly curious about solving mysteries and 3) I’m compulsive about smoothing things out – no drama and no tension allowed. The problem is that when you listen, you will hear endless stories that don’t make sense, there's lots of drama, and the tension of it all is easily absorbed. In fact, sometimes you don’t even need to listen, because your story is the one that doesn’t make any sense. All that to say, it doesn’t take much for me to honestly feel confused and concerned by the way life plays itself out (for myself and probably even more so for others).

But then there’s this story! And it just gets me every time; especially when I find myself colliding with the Author Himself … And this is where part of my “story” comes in. I don’t know if this can be proven true, but I’ve decided (from a little experience and a lot of observation) that separation is the most painful human experience. Separation can happen a lot of different ways, and I can’t think of one that isn’t deeply painful. I had a moment where it occurred to me that separation was not just a human experience, but that God must experience it too - because it’s the very thing He came to redeem. Christ died so that there would be no more separation between us. Also at this time I was brought to the words in Hebrews that says, “for the joy set before Him, endured the cross.” I've wondered hard over what the joy was that Christ set before Him … and I couldn't help but think that maybe the joy of reconciliation was on His mind. Maybe He was thinking about that moment where separation would be defeated and the overwhelming joy of being together could be experienced. And if there’s truth to that train of thought, then it means that “togetherness” is a huge value on God’s heart. So much so that He felt it was worthy of the cost of His Son’s life in order to redeem it.

Christ died once, but He didn’t stay dead and the ripple of that story is still going strong. Reconciliation is this ever flowing thing that is still being lived out … in me, in you, in us. And I just don’t think God works out reconciliation only to leave us living separated from Him. I think it’s safe to claim that He saved us so that we could be together with Him … and maybe even follow Him (closely!).

Anyways, I’ve been waking up to (and also resting in) this reality in deeper and deeper ways. “Togetherness” is a pretty suggestive term. It means that God and I interact and talk and that I’m actually capable of recognizing His voice. It means He’s real, it means He really loves us, it means He’s good, and it means that our stories, right now in this moment, are unfolding at the sound of His voice.

Our Big Brother

So a little confession: I am compulsively curious. Not sure if that’s obvious and comes through; but it’s true. I want to know things and I want to know them now. So I think and think and think. I treat life like its one big mystery novel, where everything is a riddle that I’m compelled to figure out. In fact, I often resist living life because I want to figure out what that’s supposed to look like first (life is less messy that way, right?). But the problem I keep running up against is that I can never reach the end of the mystery. The plot thickens, then thickens again and again. After a while I feel myself start to spin until I’m left completely confused and not at all ok with the fact that I don’t have this figured out. So, feeling uncomfortable, I resist the confusion - only to find myself quickly falling into places of panic. By this point my mind is like a mixer that accidentally got switched to high speed – batter flying everywhere while I stand there shocked at the unexpected mess I’m making. Yet, it is in this place of panic and high speed thinking that His faithful voice often speaks to me. Not necessarily right away; that’s part of the reason why I’m panicking. But His voice has always broken through; which is part of the mystery, and of course something I’ve tried to figure out. :)
 

I realize that was quite the intro, but the stage needed to be set because yesterday batter was flying, panic was felt, and Jesus showed up. Before He said anything though, He simply brought me a cool glass of water. I drank the deeply refreshing words in Psalm 139:6; 12, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. Even the darkness is not dark to You.” I guess I was thirsty, because those words felt really good. Then He spoke to me and simply said, “Cease from striving.” I’ve heard those words before, but something was different about them this time. The way He said them felt out of context, yet strangely familiar. Finally it hit me; it felt like words from an older brother to his stressed out little sister. I had a rush of emotion when I realized that. It’s hard to explain why, but I’m going to give it a try.

I have a big brother who has his own, reserved spot in my heart (as does my little brother). There’s just something unique about the relationship of an older brother to his little sister; it’s a special sort of bond. In the past couple years God has touched me in some very deep places by relating to me in ways that I can understand. He shows up in my life as my Father, Master, Savior, and Friend. But as my Big Brother? That’s a new one for me. It hits me in that place where you can’t find words, yet somehow the most profound things are discovered. Big brothers get it. They’ve lived through what you’re in; you have the same experience except that they are on the other side of it. There’s also something ‘playful’ in your interactions, which I think comes from being able to relax in their love for you- unafraid that you’ll lose it. You sort of get this sense that you belong to your big brother – he owns you a little. So when he speaks, you listen. And when he tells you to do basketball drills for 30 minutes a night and serve a volleyball overhand unsuccessfully 100 times, you do it. (true story) :) But maybe my favorite part about big brothers is how protective they get. Because you are his, you are automatically looked out for.

I think I’ve had a pretty great big brother/little sister experience. But of course it’s not perfect. (I’m still a little bitter about all the times I was told to ‘be a man’, I mean, clearly I can’t do much about that.) But what is striking me about seeing Jesus as my “Big Brother” is that He plays that role perfectly. Jesus is the firstborn of all creation. He’s the perfect Son and the perfect Brother. He has walked through everything we experience. He gets it. And He knows the Father intimately.  So you can’t help but sigh with relief when He grabs you up in a hug and says, “Relax in the mystery, Sis. Our Father’s ways are so good and so beyond you. Cease from striving. I’ve got your back.”

There’s something else about seeing Jesus as the Firstborn that is striking me; it’s a little harder for me to relate to. There’s this element in which He is the reason I’m part of this family. In this current season of ‘confusion’, I’ve been wrestling with and feeling shame. At one point I just came out and asked my Father if He was ashamed of me. I sat with that question for bit and finally heard, “I am not ashamed of my Son, with Him I am well pleased.” It was like God was saying, “Child, don’t take your eyes off my Son. I’m looking at you through Him, do the same when you look at Me.” And that, I believe, is grace.

So there lies my conclusion: Grace. It recently hit me that my name actually means ‘full of grace’, and yet how gracelessly I live. Why?! Especially when grace seems to come from some sort of ever flowing stream. There is endless grace in the mystery and limitless grace in the mess. I really don’t have the mystery figured out, but I am sincerely and peacefully grateful for His grace.  

self reliance

A few weeks back I got nailed with one of the viruses that has been floating around this place. My brain doesn't do sick very well, it just sort of shuts off and makes me feel like everything is a dream. Even after the initial 'sickness' leaves, it still takes me a little while to feel like myself and think clearly again. But, with much relief, clarity has found me ... along with some incredible spring weather and an increasing realization that God is speaking right now. Actually, what He is saying has caught me a little off guard, which is what has motivated me to write on here.

I've been spending time entering into the story of Christ's temptation in the wilderness. He seems to have softened my heart a little extra this week and, through that, I've being impacted by this story in a whole new way. I don't think it's possible to condense all my thoughts into this paragraph, so I'll only mention a few of the places I ended up. Not sure how successful I'll be at communicating this, but I'll give it a shot. :)

I'm blown away by the boldness of God's Spirit. Christ's experience those 40 days were Spirit led, it says that. It's gotta takes confidence in something powerful for the Spirit to lead the Redeemer into extreme physical weakness and temptation, especially considering that if He fails, mankind loses their Savior. I'm not going to even touch trying to understand Christ being fully God and fully human in that moment, but regardless, I'm amazed that Christ is led into temptation, not shielded from it.

This is going to get too long if I keep explaining my train of thought, so I'll skip ahead to where this took me:

-The power that God's Spirit possesses is really powerful. So much so that with it there is nothing to fear. Nothing trumps it.
-Christ was tapped into something beyond and bigger than His physical experience and His appetite was for the Father's will.
-Christ was not using His experience as a test of whether the Father would really provide for His needs; that was just assumed. 
-I can sense Christ's reliance on the Father and it screams humility. This is where I ended up spending the most time thinking.

One of the questions posed at me was, what are my greatest temptations (especially connected to unmet longings)? I realize in answering this question that it's really the sort of thing God has to reveal to me; meaning that it's probably something I'm blind to. So, waiting for God to reveal this, I answered casually that I desire to be equipped but rarely feel that I am. Confidence is something that I marvel at but don't often participate in.

All of a sudden I felt like something heavy, profound, and eye-opening had fallen on me. Whoa! I think I've been subconsciously asking God to make me self-reliant. It's completely true that where I am weak, He is strong. But have I believed that where I am strong, I don't need Him? And worse, am I trying to grow equipped in my weaknesses so that I can further rely on myself? The temptation in that stems from a lie that the more control I have, the less disappointment I will face. Which then makes me ask, am I really so deceived as to think that there is any potential at all for God to disappoint me?

I'm drawn to Christ's example. I long for His humility. I want to be Spirit led, even (or especially) into the weakest of places. And I want to know His power and know His sufficiency and delight worshipfully in my Sustainer. The beauty of complete reliance (not just in my weakness) on an all-powerful, loving, intimately-involved God is a captivating thought.

The words in Exodus 14:14 keep echoing back at me while I think about these things: "The Lord will fight for you, you have only to be silent." ... This is the experience I find myself craving and having a strong appetite for. This, I think, is what it means to live outside myself in pure and complete reliance. To Him be the glory because the victory and power is His.

known

Life is a fascinating thing. We experience such a range of things and think about these things even more. Sometimes when I feel 'reflective' I playback my life up to this point and usually end up laughing. I guess I'm just easily amused at my story and amazed by the complexity of it. I've walked so many terrains and been in such contrasting places that it's hard to think of a 'theme' for my life ... except for one thing. -God's faithfulness. I ran into Psalm 25:10 the other day and got blown away by these words, "All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness." I guess what struck me is that my love and faithfulness (toward anything!) is all over the place. But never, not ever, has there been even a short moment where my life hasn't been marked by His love for me and a faithfulness that makes no sense at all.

A little while ago, God addressed in me an unbelieving heart and He hasn't dropped the subject since. Recently, though, I have been waking up to the fact that belief is a much deeper thing than I have ever come close to realizing. Ever notice how 'cautiously' we believe? I think I know why I'm so cautious. I think I'm cautious because I don't really know God. I mean, I know He's sovereign and powerful and just and loving and etc... but do I? Do I believe that? The truth is, I spend more time trying to convince myself that those things are true than I do delighting in their reality.

It is here that God's loving, faithful voice began to speak. You know those moments in life where someone read your mind and did something for you that was super spot on? Leaving you feeling like this person took the time to truly know you and wanted to show you that? Well, that's how God started to talk to me. He got really personal, so 'spot on' that it gives me chills just thinking about it. And suddenly in that moment I heard Him say, "Hannah Elizabeth, I know your name." Something changed inside me in that moment, being truly known will do that I guess. I always knew that God knew me, but experiencing Him communicate that - speechless.

I got caught up in this as it sunk in deeper and deeper that my name is written on His heart and graven on His hands. And that He summons me by my name. I just can't think of it getting any more personal than that - my very name! It is always there before Him. Permanently.

So in the middle of feeling overcome with delight at this reality, He spoke again and said, "I'm showing you that I know your name so that you might know Mine." Stunned. I don't think He meant 'know' as in memorize His Names from an index. I think He meant 'know' as in intimately and experientially encounter them. I think He wants me to believe that He is who He says He is and to walk with Him in light of that. He wants me to know Him as He knows me. And to take it a little further, I think He wants this because He knows it's what I was created for. This relationship, it's life! It's the place where all strivings cease.

Makes me wonder if this is what C.S. Lewis was discovering when He said, "It would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

Knowing God. That is infinite joy indeed.

the kitchen

I just got back to Hungary after spending Christmas break in the states with the fam. I'll admit that at the moment I'm pretty 'homesick'. This trip home felt good. The time to 'just be' with family hit the spot; I guess I'd been craving it. So as I adjust to the time zone here, my mind is lingering on all the memories that were just made ... and in that lingering, I realized something. I realized that I really love the kitchen (a little random, I know). I think it's where the majority of family bonding takes place. It's central in the chaos. Everyone wanders there consistently ... usually looking for something to stick their fingers in. Converations seem to turn into laughter. And it's the place with the best smells; maybe it's the smells that causes everyone to end up there - it allures. The more 'kitchen' memories that come to mind, the more of a fan I'm becoming. It's gotta the best room in the house.

Anyways, this ramble has a point. Sometimes God takes me places in this journey that I'm on with Him and those places speak into what He's doing in my heart and life. Last night it hit me that I think we're in the kitchen; only I haven't been enjoying myself. The hot topic in my conversations with God right now is 'waiting'. I caught myself telling God that waiting feels wasteful. Did you catch that? I told the God of the universe, who holds all wisdom and all power, that I think He's wasting my time. As soon as I realized this is what my heart was saying, I sat back a little stunned at myself. And that dove me into a series of conversations with my Father about waiting- because it's not a waste and I don't want to live believing that it is.

In these conversations, I began searching for a way to describe what waiting on Him feels like. Eventually I found it. It feels like I'm sitting in the kitchen with an incredible aroma coming from the oven. I'm sitting anxious and eager for my Father (who made this mysterious something for me) to open the oven door and reveal a delicious surprise. But here's all the problems: I don't know what's in the oven, I'm just told it's good. There's no recipe sitting out, He didn't need one - so I can't investigate the ingredients. There's no timer, so I have no way of gauging how much longer I have to wait. I'm hungry and the smell only seems to intensify that. And the longer I sit, the more consumed I get with the waiting; not able to keep my eyes or my mind off the oven. ... The whole scene bothers me. When I think over all the moments I just had in the kitchen with my family, I don't remember feeling impatient for the food to get done. The gift was the fellowship, not the food. So why am I so consumed with what God is going to feed me? Why can't I simply enjoy Him?

You know, the thing about baking is that timing is everything. If you take it out too early, it's not what it was meant to be. Same is true if you leave it in too long. Why is it so hard to believe that waiting on Him is like that? That His timing is perfect?

Today in church we were asked, "Do you treasure Jesus?" I think I do. But sometimes I sit in His kitchen and I forget to enjoy the treasure. The treasure of knowing Him intimately. The treasure of talking with Him, laughing, or sometimes even dancing. The treasure of being in the presence of God and feeling my heart drawn into gratitude and worship.

I'm still pretty confused by waiting. I haven't come up with a 'neat' answer that satisfies the deepening questions I keep asking. But maybe the answers lie in the mystery, the place where my finite mind can't reach. Maybe the answer isn't even the point. Maybe He has me here simply to enjoy Him regardless of all the things I don't know. And maybe the change I'm longing for in my life doesn't come from the oven, maybe it comes from just being with Him in the kitchen.

Faithful and True

This year the person who is grabbing my attention more than anyone else in the Christmas story is John the Baptist. I think he's fascinating. I mean, he recognized the Savior of the world before he was even born; 'leaping' with delight. Clearly he was set apart and clearly he 'got it'. John knew who Jesus was, he knew what He came to do, and he knew he was set apart to play a role in response to that. He's definitely on my list of people I'd love to meet. I'd be willing to bet that he was one strange dude; which, I admit, makes me like him all the more.

But it's not John's birth that's stirring me up right now, it's his words later in life. When questioned by priests and Levites about who he is, he says with confidence, "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord,' as the prophet Isaiah said." Without any context, this sounds like a red carpet moment. The words are worthy of some finely dressed herald declaring the entrance of a king. But John isn't nicely dressed and the One he is referring to is an individual that was born in a barn and raised in incredibly simple circumstances.

So in one hand I'm forming this image of a baby born into an extremely vulnerable family and situation, with no appearance of 'royalty' whatsoever. Now hold that thought ... cuz then there's the other hand ...

I've spent some time in Revelation. You don't need too much of an imagination for the book, it does a great job painting the picture for you. So as I 'pictured' the words I was reading, I caught my breath on vs. 19:11 where it says, "Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it was called Faithful and True" The description that follows intensifies the image, but I keep coming back to this verse. Now that's what a king is supposed to look like! Although, it's not so much the image that gets me; it's His names. Faithful and True are not concepts or character traits ... they are the very essence of who this King is. So much so that it's His name: King Faithful, King True. I don't really know how to put it into words, but something about that is super powerful to me. Names are personal and identify us. Faithful is a person. Truth is a person. We believe in, we talk to, we worship a person!!

So, I hold out my two hands and just can't seem to reconcile these two pictures. This is the same person?! The King riding on that white horse and ready for battle is the same person as the little baby that slept in a manger? My mind spins ...

If I had a third hand, it would be holding the fact that I have a relationship with this person, that I talk to Him, and that He's present with me even as I write this. Good thing I don't have 3 hands, or trying to reconcile all of that would spin my mind faster than it could handle.

John must have had 3 hands. He personally knew and interacted with 'God made flesh', yet he proclaimed Him as royalty. He was a voice for Christ's first coming ... Maybe, we're the voice for His second? King Faithful, King True is coming again on a white horse in pure holiness and justice. For real. He really is! That leaves me realizing I'm part of something so so much bigger than myself. We're not outside this story, we're in it. We are (or atleast have the potential to be) voices ... making straight the way of the Lord.

my Author

Several times this school year I've had the thought that 'God is the Author of my story' get stuck in my head. It's been one of those thoughts that sort of spirals in and out, each time sinking in a little deeper. I had shared this with a friend a little while back and hadn't thought too much about it since then until she referred to it in a conversation we had today. It hit the deepest yet ....

You see, today I found myself slowly moving toward the 'gloomy' side of things. No big reason why, actually I was pretty annoyed by it. I guess I just felt tired of things staying as they were and I got consumed in the moment - as if my perception of things right now was a foreshadowing of a dim tomorrow. Again, I was annoyed by this.

I had another conversation today where my plans for next year came up. In all honesty, I expressed how I had no idea how things would play out for me - and therefore no idea what next year would look like - well, other than staying in Hungary. Something in that exchange threatened the stillness my heart was resting in. Maybe because I often search for peace in 'knowing' - I somehow convince myself that the more I know or can predict, the more peace I will have. But peace never comes that way because there is always that 'unknown' that threatens to rob you of what you do know. And here is the beginning of worry - not a place I care to spend much time.

So in the middle of these 'emotions' (and mostly because of my friends little reminder) I found myself repeating the words, "He is the author of my story and the perfecter of my faith." The more I said them, the more in awe I grew. He has written my story and He has perfected my faith. He is writing my story and He is perfecting my faith. My mind suddenly felt like a movie where all these scenes started flashing at me. Specific memories popped up, times where I cried so hard I felt sick and times where I laughed so hard I could no longer stand up. Times where I felt completely alone and times where I couldn't have felt more full. Times where I begged God desperately for things that I never got and times where I was overflowing with gratitude at what He'd given me. Then I'd see people's faces. People who left me full and people who left me shattered and broken - all impacting me in significant ways. But what is blowing me away more than anything else right now is that God wrote all that! And it's a fantastic story. Interwoven in each intentional event is the story of redemption. The story of this ugly, selfish little girl whose sin is found out by a perfectly Holy God - who doesn't condemn her, but redeems her! And the more you read the story, the more you realize that this is a Master author who wastes no details. Nothing. Every single detail somehow 'mysteriously' plays a role in perfecting this worthless little thing - giving her value and beauty and purity. It all  leaves me so undone.

So, in light of that, I'm sitting here feeling the tension that this 'thought' brings. The tension between feeling 'doomed' and feeling 'redeemed'. This sanctification process, it's no small thing. I mean, really, it's not! It's painful and requires total surrender to the process. It means I quit all these foolish attempts at grabbing the pen and editing my story ... But, you know, I think when we do that -when we let go- we experience the most exhilerating parts of the journey. "We are not in control, we are therefore free."

All that to say ... may we surrender to the Author today and enjoy fully the beauty of this story.