disclaimer: this may be the longest and most honest blog i've ever written. you've been warned:)
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"I should have written in pencil. I should have viewed the trajectory of my life as a mystery or an unknown. I should have planned lightly, hypothetically, and should have used words like 'maybe' and 'possibly'. Instead, every chance I got, I wrote in stone and Sharpie. I stood on my future, on what I knew, on the certainty of what life would hold for me, as though it was rock. What I know now is that instead of rock, it's more like a magic carpet, a slippy-slidy-wiggly thing, full of equal parts play and terror. The ground beneath my feet is lurching and breaking, and making way for an entirely new thing every time I look down, surprised once again by a future I couldn't have predicted...
I want to arrive. I want to get to wherever I'm going and stay there. That's why I was such a ferocious planner of my life. But I'm learning to just keep moving, keep walking, keep taking teeny tiny steps. And it's in those teeny tine steps and moments that I become, actually, who I am. We won't arrive. But we can become. And that's the most hopeful thing I can think of."
{--shauna niequist, cold tangerines: writing in pencil}
i need to admit some things. to say them out loud, to let my thoughts unfurl themselves into the warm, may air.
i am not perfect.
i am not.
perfect.
i just turned 24 and somewhere along the lines, i grew a confidence that i would have life figured out by now. turns out, i was wrong. and instead, i find myself weeping at my disappointment in my own self.
i am not perfect.
and i definitely don't have it all figured out.
actually, i have nothing. i have nothing figured out.
i am not perfect and my heart breaks at the thought of it.
every time i look in the mirror and realize that i'm not skinny enough or tan enough, that my teeth aren't white enough, that my boobs aren't as big as the next girls, that my wardrobe isn't as fashionable as i'd like it to be.
every time i drive my grandma car or look at my rented house that feels like it needs to be cleaned endlessly. every time i look at my bank account.
every time i find myself losing my patience or getting short with someone. every time i feel my temper rising or when i stutter over my words as i try to explain my intentions. every time i know that i should forgive or be gentler and instead, i do the opposite. every time i watch someone be a really good friend or trust with the ease of a child and wish i could be the same, do the same.
every time i go to church. or approach the throne. lately, that is where my heart breaks the most. at the mention of the throne. the mere thought of it makes me tremble.
somewhere along the roads of my life, i have determined that His grace is not enough for me. i've imagined Him, pacing the floors of heaven, wringing His hands, and sighing in frustration: what on earth am i going to do with you? you're a mess. you're Un-helpable. Un-redeemable. what are you even doing down there? you're not spreading the Gospel. digging in deep with people from foreign lands. you're not even feeding the homeless in your city. or volunteering to help children. you're not even involved in your own church! no, i can't save you. you're Un-saveable.
yes, i've felt it lately. so i've been trying...to save myself. but it's felt something like quicksand, where the more i struggle, the harder i pull, the more i am submerged into the pits of despair. i have been running a race to earn my own grace. or maybe a sense of accomplishment or self-sufficiency or legitimacy.
yes, legitimacy. such a solid word. isn't that everyone's desire--to be legitimate in whatever it is that they do? to be a legitimate writer, cook, world traveler? more often that not, i don't feel legitimate in anything. not as a student or a friend or a co-worker or a Christian. in writing that, i realized that i've adopted that "fake-it-till-you-make-it" stance on life and so far, it's seemed to work. i can't do everything, but i can do the best i can. and up until recently, that seemed like enough. but not anymore.
i realized that i didn't want to fake it anymore, i wanted to BE: to LITERALLY be perfect and legitimate and in control of my own life. to be able to create my own destiny--to change the world and look down upon it and declare, "it is good."
pride. that's all it is. simple, foolish pride.
i've been trying to get back to the basics of my faith, my Jesus, and to do that, i've been returning to that childhood place where i felt so much about God. i remember listening to the stories they taught in Sunday school and hanging onto every word, every syllable. i wanted to know MORE about noah and moses and peter walking on water. i wanted to know more about Jesus and why He loved me so much. i could NOT get enough of it. however, in the middle of that, i realize that i also wanted more than knowledge: i wanted to DO. i wanted to do something great for God because He gave me so much and how could i possibly not give something back to Him? my heart wasn't enough, nosiree. so, i made a promise to myself--probably at the young age of 5 or so--that my life would be this fabulous ride, in which i would explore dangerous, uncharted places and where i would bring people to the feet of God. and in turn, i would become so valuable to Him, to the Christian faith, and He would love me even more. in that place, my life would have deep value, meaning, purpose. and when i got to heaven, He would pat me on the head and say, "well done." i would puff up my chest before entering heaven's gates and i would stroll in knowing i had DONE something great. why simply BE when you can DO?
well...God is a funny God. because all He's been trying to teach me the last 2 years is how to be with Him--no strings attached, no questions asked. and i have been one failing student. because deep in my heart, i have grown to believe that my faith is simply not enough. my actions show this.
i imagine it as if God has thrown me over His shoulder, to move me from the Doing Room to the Being Room. and goodness gracious, i'll be darned if He takes me without a fight. i've been holding onto the door frame of the Doing Room for who knows how long and, to be honest, kind of throwing a tantrum. "no! i need to be here. i HAVE to be in the Doing Room because THIS is where i'm needed. this is where i'm important. this is where i matter." and i can just see Him sighing (all the while, holding back a smile) as i hold so tightly to that damn door frame. but slowly, surely, He's been pulling me away. my fingers are barely touching that doorframe anymore and my curiosity about the Being Room has grown. but the Doing Room? oh God, the Doing Room is so familiar. it's where my heart has been all these years and it's where things make sense and it's where my faith is all packaged up in this neat little box. do you want to know what's in that box? okay, i'll tell you:) my dreams are in that box. dreams that look, to me, like diamonds. all different colors and they shimmer and shine and cast sparkles across the room when you hold them up just right. and these diamonds hold images of my perfect life. of me sitting in a hut in africa or on a dirt floor in india. i'm wearing a dirty t-shirt and jean shorts and tennis shoes and i have a black watch on my left wrist, just like all the camp counselors i ever knew. and kids are clambering over into my lap and i'm reading the Bible and there is joy radiating from people's faces. in these diamonds, i've watched people be healed and baptized and redeemed from a life of sin. i see churches being built and worship services that move mountains. i've held those diamonds so tightly...turned them over in my hands a million times. i know their shapes, their scars, their shimmer by heart.
i was almost tempted to write that these dreams are just a by-product of me wanting the glory for myself. and maybe that's a small part of it. but mostly, i feel they truly have all been for Jesus. how could i simply accept grace without making sure everyone else gets a chance at a piece of it? this has been my thinking for the last 20 years of my life. and those dreams have been engraved into my soul on such a deep level that, to imagine leaving the Doing Room, feels like leaving everything i've ever known. and that's painful--almost too much to bear. how can i let go of all this? how can i do nothing but be?
it makes me wonder if i know God at all anymore. maybe i don't. my mom told me that's a good thing and i hope she's right. because right now it just feels like heartbreak. my life hasn't turned out the way i told myself it would. and in the meantime, i've turned out to be a martha, instead of a mary. to me, being martha feels a whole lot more brave and fearless and Jesus-loving. being a mary seems too easy. yet, ironically, sitting at Jesus' feet, being loved simply because i am His creation, is nearly too difficult to accept. i have been taught that God wants us only to work for Him. i've forgotten what it's like to just be with Him. in fact, i have rarely known it. but He wants me to know it now. that's what this heartbreak is all about. i have no doubt it's His pruning.
and since i am being honest, putting my entire heart out for the world to see, i figure i might as well go all the way: as soon as i started dating ethan a little over two years ago, i wanted the relationship to be over. i wanted the relationship to be over, not because of him, but because of another version, a so-called version, of those diamonds i was holding onto. in my mind, that Missionary Plan? it also included my marriage to a Bible-thumping missionary man, who had a southern accent and played guitar for little children. and yes, he would probably also drive a truck and lead our family Bible study once a week.
but when ethan came back into my life, i forgot about all that for a long while. because ethan was sweet and strong and uncompromising and he got blankets for me when i was cold and asked me questions like, "how are you?"
however, when we started dating, i secretly hoped someone would talk me out of it. because the path we were headed down, albeit a gorgeous one, didn't look anything like i had planned. i didn't plan on being with someone who struggles with faith, just like i do. i didn't plan on being with a man who chooses his words carefully and who makes me laugh by doing animal voices and dancing to the black-eyed peas in my car. i didn't plan on a relationship looking less like a movie and more like real life. and because i decided to pick ethan, instead of waiting for that Bible Thumper i made up in my mind, i have often wondered if God hasn't given me my dreams because He is punishing me. because i didn't wait for someone more "spiritual." i could find no other reason for my life going off the plan, so in my heart, i've blamed my relationship with ethan. i've even gone to the extent of chastising myself every time i'm happy with him because our relationship is so easy and that's a sure sign that we're not meant to be together...right?
of course, i see the silliness of my reasoning, but this has been an on-going process, one i've needed to work my way through. and while i don't know what the future holds for me and ethan, i know that i'm crazy about him. that being with him feels like home. and although i'm ashamed to admit my past thoughts, i am proud to say that i ignored those stupid, false diamonds long enough to see that being with ethan is better than anything i had ever dreamed up. so this process has also been letting go of expectations of the man i thought i wanted and, instead, relishing being with the man God has given me. a man who is my best friend and who still gives me butterflies and who i trust implicitly.
this blog is insanely all over the place.
it, also, has been insanely healing to write.
i don't have it all together. i thought i knew my future, i thought i had a handle on God, and i don't. i'm working at a tax firm, not living in africa. i'm living in california, not in the south. i don't have a college degree, i'm not involved in church. i'm not as good a friend or daughter or sister or girlfriend as i'd like to be. i'm not as spiritual or wise or compassionate as i'd like to hope. all these years, i've been fighting and fighting and fighting against this person i am, a person i have been so determined to change and make better, instead of just being exactly who God made me. but i want that chapter to be over. i want to know what it is to enjoy God.
i saw a verse on pinterest the other day: 2 corinthians 12:9 "...my power is made perfect in weakness."
that is where i want to go. to weakness. to a place of empty hands that long to be filled up with only Him. not to-do lists or dreams or my next "fix it" list for my personality and body and character. i want to go to a place where i can finally admit that i am nothing and i have nothing and that "all is vanity" apart from Him. even my well-intentioned dreams. i am not a fixer or a savior or a healer. instead, i am the one who needs to be fixed and saved and healed.
my mom told me on the phone today that i'm "not less" because of where i am. even if i'm not in africa or feeding homeless people. i needed that. trying not to strive goes against all the things i've ever taught myself. but tonight, as i write this, it's almost brought me immense peace.
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if i had the time, i would put down all the quotes that appropriately fit this growing season right now. i have been finding them scattered all over the place--on pinterest, in books...God is so good to me. He knows exactly what to give me right when i need it.
and i'm going to share some of them. just a handful. they all speak to me in enormous ways and in some sense, they are my life rafts...helping me navigate my way through this season of life. helping me find my way back to God's heart again.
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