I Hate Goodbyes.

Rather amusingly, the last time I posted here was right after recovering from a lovely family-wide stomach bug...and guess what. I just recovered from another one. I know, I know - exciting details of life.

Hi! How are you, reader? How am I, you ask? Well...I don't know. Good...I guess?

I say "I guess," because this whole period of life, while not fraught with any tangible chaos, is an emotional chaos of a major s t r e t c h i n g time. Like, a bend-over-backward crazy-yoga-pose-level stretching time. Parenting - nay, life - is not for the faint of heart, and so often my heart wants to indulge faintness. I am brought back to my feet by the Lord, my supportive husband, and the people at church who are like family to me, but the perpetuity of the process is way tiring. 

I'm just a little dramatic and lugubrious right now because something just hit me: I'm halfway across the country from one of my best friends, and now my other best friend, who currently lives right across the street from me, is moving halfway across the country in three weeks. My immediate family is in the same dreaded state to which this friend is moving; my beloved in-laws are even further away than that. So as the reality of this friend's move hits, I find myself feeling rather alone. 

I'm not good at saying goodbye. It takes me - it takes everyone? - a long time to form deep relationships in which I fully trust the other person involved. Somewhere in adolescence, I taught myself that most people can be trusted up to a certain point, but after that point, no one can be trusted. To build a friendship in which I can bare my soul to the other person without fear of some selfish motive prompting negative repercussions...that is a ruby-rare, pearl-priceless thing.

Kids are really good at making friends! Sometimes they even dress to match!

I have much growing to do in the area of trust - I know I do. Being easily endeared to people in general is not the same thing as trusting them. So if you think of me, pray for me during this time, and pray for my friend and her family in the midst of this move. And if you're a friend of mine, please be patient with me as I learn to trust you more. The good thing about having a few people I fully, genuinely trust is that I know I am capable of fully and genuinely trusting without the world imploding. So, as I grow in godliness and maturity by the work of the Holy Spirit, I will hopefully risk deeper hurt in order to gain a chance for deeper fellowship, deeper joy, and deeper love. Until then, do bear with me.

What about you? What are some things that help you cope with missing loved ones? Shoot me a comment, message or email and give a girl some tips.

Until next time, dear reader.

The House

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.

Psalm 127:1a

I keep telling myself this so I can go to sleep. I'd like to hammer it into my head with a thousand nails to make it stick.

Have you ever done something that you knew was good work - an essay, a piece of art, a project? Something you stepped back from and said, not with arrogance, but with satisfaction, "I've done this well. I worked hard, and it paid off. This is something worth reading/viewing/studying?"

I'm in the final stage of my novel, and I think I've done something well.

It has been a (literally) life-long dream to write a novel and see it published. In the dream, readers from all over discover an author whose work they become inextricably sucked into, that sparks life and energy in their mind, and that opens up a grand vista to a world they never began to dream of.

The books I most loved did that for me.

I should stick to the point, though - I think I've done something well, something that has real potential to be published by a respected publishing house.

This thought moves me profoundly. I began my first full-blown "novel" in the sixth grade. I unwittingly fell in love with writing when I was six. Now, I'm twenty-three, and I'm almost ready to find an agent and send my first real, adult novel out into the frightening publishing netherworld. I'm so close to seeing an actual "dream come true," I can taste it.

Of all the writing I've done in my life, this is my best. I opened up this post with the verse I did because I have to remind myself that my best is all I can do, and the rest is in God's hands. Just because I wrote something well does not mean that it will get published. My writing will be judged based on my skill, yes, but much of the judging also depends on the whims of publishers.

When I imagine my dream coming to fruition, it nearly brings me to tears. Call it cheesy, but fill in the blanks with your own dreams. Powerful, right? Now, the real challenge is trusting God's sovereignty in the midst of something so very personal.

As I come to the end of my second draft (and the final "writing" draft, if you will) and start thinking about cover letters and summaries and sample pages and agents, you can pray for me that I will trust the Lord, and love and enjoy him ever more than the gift of writing that he's given me. For I build nothing in life - not even this - without him. I have to remember that, and rest.


85% done and counting...!

Wake-Up Juice

Ugh. Home-brewed iced coffee - even a few swallows! - is wake-up juice if I ever had it. Or maybe the reason I'm wide-awake while the hubby and baby are snugly sleeping (as they should be - Chris watched Elayne while I had some grown-up time and she screamed his ears off for two hours) is because thoughts of a loved one lie heavy on my heart.

Even now, I sigh to think about it. This loved one is hurting badly, and turning to everything except Christ to find answers. Now he's turning inward, hiding away, and it pains me greatly to see. I pray for him often, though not nearly enough. However, I know it is not my prayers nor my words that can ultimately help him. Only the Holy Spirit can do that, by opening his eyes to the love of Christ and the blissful hope that he offers through his death and resurrection.

Thus unfolds one of the biggest challenges in my life: comprehending that it is not I, nor a perfect series of words or actions, that can help or save a person. I find it confusing - it is obviously not wrong to want the person to be helped or saved, yet it is wrong for me to trust myself rather than God to do the work (1 Corinthians 3:6-7, 2 Corinthians 3:4-6). I can't seem to let go of the notion that my own power plays a part, somehow. I am allowed to play some part in the sense that I can petition the Lord for souls, but it is not because I merited that privilege by earning Good Christian Points. Reconciling that in my mind is difficult, to say the least.

In addition, I feel that if I say the wrong series of things in an effort to point this loved one to Christ, that I will undo whatever work has already been done in his heart. When I step back from this idea, it is laughable - as if my weak and transient words could override the work of the Holy Spirit and the plan that God has sovereignly ordained! Yet I continue in this line of thought, day after day.

I don't want to indulge the sin of distrust even as I do something that would please the Lord if done rightly. I am glad that he knows the motive of my heart. I hope that the motive, at least, pleases him. After all, the Lord understands how I feel about this loved one, how much I desire that he discover Christ  as all-sufficient, for he loves this person more than I could even imagine loving him. I am thankful that he's allowed me in this person's life so that I can act as his ambassador. Blessed privilege that is! May he give me grace and help to trust him ever more as I represent his glorious person on this earth.

Frightening Revelation

Wow. It's been a very long time since I've posted here. I guess I feel like I don't have much in the way of startling personal insight or the like. Though my husband blogs to work through the things he's thinking, I usually blog to express things I've already worked through.

This time, however, I'm going to share with you something that hit me just last night. So, forgive any lack of order, and here we go.

I was reading John Piper's Desiring God yesterday per Chris's suggestion. I had recently been telling Chris how I lacked joy in studying the Bible and praying, so he encouraged me to read through chapters five and six in Piper's book - the chapters on Scripture and prayer.

I found the chapters to be uplifting and helpful, and they brought me nothing but peace -- that is, until I reached a particular section of the prayer chapter. There, Piper was expounding on how prayer brings us happiness at the same time it brings God glory. As he put it (emphasis mine):

Prayer is the very heart of Christian Hedonism. God gets the glory; we get the delight. He gets the glory precisely because He shows Himself full and strong to deliver us into joy. And we attain fullness of joy precisely because He is the all-glorious source and goal of life. Here is a great discovery: We do not glorify God by providing His needs, but by praying that He would provide ours -- and trusting Him to answer.

Suddenly, I was stricken.

You might wonder why, and rightly so. The quote above is nothing but wonderful, right? I felt my heart fall, however, as I  re-read the last sentence.

We do not glorify God by providing His needs, but by praying that He would provide ours -- and trusting Him to answer.

If you know me, you know how works-oriented I am, constantly thinking that I need to meet my Christian quota in order to earn or maintain God's love. You'd think I would want someone to debunk that myth for me. Many loved ones and mentors have tried. I always thought I wasn't getting over my works-guilt-complex because of some personal inability to do so, but on reading the aforementioned quote, I suddenly realized that I didn't want to get over the complex. I didn't want to pray for God to provide my needs and let him answer. I didn't want to glorify God, because I want to do it myself.

Because I want the glory.

After over ten years of being regenerate, how could it be that I still wanted glory for myself? Not only that, but that I wanted to deny God glory so that I could call myself self-sufficient? What dirty pride is caught up in that! I became humbled and ashamed of the state of my heart in this!

And yet now, in the midst of the shame, I feel a strange sense of joy, a warm flame building up inside me that reminds me: now that I know, I can change. This is the best place to start. Will I now pray to God for the power to change, or will I try to depend on myself, denying Him the glory so that I can say (if only in my own heart) that the transformation was all me?

I've talked a good talk about trusting God until now. Here I stand at the crossroads: I sin if I do not begin to walk these things out.

Trust, Trust Not

Today's reading in My Utmost for His Highest addresses the burning question I've held for years: how am I to trust people (let them in), yet not trust them (expect them not to let me down) at the same time? This is good stuff right here...

An excerpt from GOD FIRST

"Jesus did not commit Himself unto them...for He knew what was in man." John 2:24-25

Put God First in Trust. Our Lord trusted no man; yet He was never suspicious, never bitter, never in despair about any man, because He put God first in trust; He trusted absolutely in what God's grace could do for any man. If I put my trust in human beings first, I will end in despairing of everyone; I will become bitter, because I have insisted on man being what no man can ever be -- absolutely right. Never trust anything but the grace of God in yourself or in anyone else.

The Great Adventure of the Christian Life

I'm coming to realize something -- a great truth.

It came after a bout of bitter tears yesterday. The short of it was I was questioning God's timing in several areas of my life. I couldn't comprehend why God would withhold something from me that is good, that I earnestly desire and that I would do well with.

As I was crying, a statement I made months ago came to mind. I was describing a young man I know to Chris. I said that the young man "has so much love to give that he just wants to put it somewhere. However, he directs it all into the wrong places (in this case, to girlfriends instead of God)."

Suddenly, I realized that I was no different from that young man. I had so much good intention toward this thing I wanted from God -- so much enthusiasm and love! Wisdom settled into my heart like a sweet, comforting whisper sinking into my ears. Don't direct your enthusiasm and love into all the wrong places. Give it all to God. Find all joy in him. Be completely content in him."

This is the great adventure of the Christian life: that as we walk with God, relying on him entirely, the things he chooses to give us along the way will be sweeter and more beautiful surprises than what we would've chosen for ourselves. We always try to conjure - we try to make spiritual situations happen, we try to improve ourselves, we try to love people better. The truth is, when we let go and say, "God, I love you above all. I will follow you whatever you ask me to do," we're so busy looking at God that we don't even realize we're about to stumble on a moment of great spiritual significance, growth, or depth. Then we stumble upon it, and our joy is unsurpassable. We are able to say, "God, when I trusted you, you brought me right to where I needed to be. You blessed me in a place I wasn't even looking for blessing. Thank you, mighty Father!"

I long to live the adventure. Truly, there is nothing my heart wants more!

Words Trapped Behind a Fearful Smile

As the night settles over the mountains of Colorado Springs, my Thanksgiving break draws to a close. I've had a wonderful week with my parents- and sisters-in-law, and Chris' and my friend Stephen.

I have a feeling of letdown. Vaguely, I dread returning to Norman, knowing that life wil resume, and with it, all the everyday insecurities I long to escape. When I'm here, I rest in the knowledge that I'm loved. Granted, it took until almost six months ago for me to feel entirely myself with my in-laws, comfortable enough to let loose while knowing they accept me just the way I am.

I must admit that it takes me a looong time to trust anyone fully. When I do, it's so freeing! It's like stepping from a greyish world into an entirely new reality, where I experience hope and confidence and joy to overflowing. It's like suddenly realizing the heart of God, realizing the holy pride he feels in his unique creation -- me.

In "normal life," though, I don't know who I can trust, no matter how many times they've "proved" themselves to me. My warped perspective on life is that everyone has a button that drives them away for good, and it's only a matter of stumbling over and pushing that button. The longer I spend with a person, the more likely I am to find that button and lose their love forever. That's why it's difficult for me to grow attached. The deeper and longer I love, the greater the risk of heartbreak -- a keener kind than I experienced in middle school break-ups. This is what I hold to every day I'm in Norman, going about my business at OU and elsewhere.

Now that I realize this, I long to give it over to God. I cannot live in bondage depending on who I'm with or where I'm located. It is not the responsibility of every person outside my family to show me exactly what I want to see as proof of their sincerity. They can't show me perfect love -- I have to realize this.

Not only that -- I have to realize that there is a greater love that fills my need, because it truly is a need. When we sinned against God, we were cut off from him and his glory, and brought a death sentence on ourselves. Our debt was too great to pay. God knew that. He sent down his son, the very image of himself, to live a human life, bearing our human temptations and pains, and at the end of it endure false accusations, betrayal and brutal murder at the hands of those who he loved perfectly. In that way, he paid the blood price that was too much for us to pay, and he paid it in full. Not only that, he rose again, thereby proving himself conquerer of sin and death -- the very things that kept us away from his great heart. He ascended into heaven. He has prepared a place for us with him. One day, he will come again, and reign in all beauty, goodness and majesty that we have barely tasted.

Hallelujah. May his grace rain down on me in this struggle.

Hope of Life, Taste of Death

It's OU-TX weekend, and I am going to Texas. For the game, you ask? No, indeed! To celebrate my best friend Katie's birthday! Don't you love and admire my school spirit?

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While my life has been calm, praise God, storms rage around me in the lives of those I love.

I held a newborn baby for the first time yesterday -- Lydia, the beautiful daughter of my friends Mike and Whitney. It made my heart ache with love and awe, and I'm not even the parent! Lydia is a miraculous birth, in a way, and while the story is not mine to tell, I can say with all confidence that here, God was in control.

Not too long ago, Mike found out he is being deployed to the Middle East for three months, leaving his wife and new "little princess" behind. We prayed over them yesterday with our Bible study group, since Mike leaves tomorrow morning. It was heartbreaking. And yet I know that if we "take the wings of morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there [God's] hand shall lead [us], and [his] right hand shall hold [us]" (Psalm 139:9-10). Here, God is in control.

Today I received an email informing me that my favorite teacher's mother just died. I know the burden has been heavy on him, as his family members look to him for stability though he is as shaken as they are. It's strange thinking about death after holding vibrant life in my arms yesterday. Two extremes, both showing that we small humans have no control over our lives.

Yet even here, even in death, God is in control.

Praise him who is sovereign -- there is comfort unparalleled  in that great knowledge!

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Thirteenth Part

Thirteenth part?! Did you know that most elevators (and therefore, buildings), do not have a thirteenth floor due to the superstition that the number is unlucky? Do not worry, dear reader. This post is not unlucky, because "in my experience, there's no such thing as luck" (name that quote and win the prize of perpetual awesomeness!).

Ahem. Sorry about the random introductory paragraph. Streams of consciousness should cease to surprise you by now, though, coming from me.

I love my husband with all of my heart. He takes such good care of me. I have learned, however, that no matter how well Chris does at "husbanding," marriage can't fix the hurts in my heart.

I have always harbored insecurities about my self-worth. Specifically, I have trouble believing I am beautiful, and that love is truly unconditional.

Before I even started dating, I expected that having a man utterly committed to me would take care of my issues. All I needed were those dear compliments and that flattering pursuit to let me know that I was worth fighting for -- then everything would be okay.

Here's the catch: for a short time, it was true. I felt okay. The thrill of being chased provided me with an emotional high that made me forget my self-doubts. After the dating "honeymoon period" ended -- a sixth- month period, some say -- I discovered that I was floundering in my insecurities alone...again!

Friends have asked if marriage alleviated my insecurities -- indeed, they have subtly asked if it eradicated them altogether. Marriage gives me a living picture of Christ's love for me, but it only clarifies an understanding I've had nearly all my life. Marriage isn't the cure. Christ is the only cure -- that is a fact that doesn't change, no matter what relationship stage you're in. Don't trust anything else to "fix" things in your heart, even if you're sure that "if you only had ____, you wouldn't deal with ____."

It isn't easy to trust that what Christ promises about his power, healing and goodness is true. However, believe me when I say don't wait for earthly circumstances to change before bringing heart issues to the Lord. He is completely dependable, and he will not turn you away. In fact, he will rejoice to see his child trusting him with the most fragile parts of life.

Father, Father

Father, Father, help me Father

Never have I known a man

Who could take me as his daughter

Wrap my failures in his plan

Who could see such holy beauty

In a street child beat and worn

Who could call me his Creation

When the threads of hope are torn.

Father, Father, help me Father

My songs ask to see your face

My songs sing about your goodness

My songs praise your gift of grace

They are words when death draws nearer

They are words when hope’s shot through

They are words when I can’t hear

And ask “why?” is all I can do.

Father, Father, help me Father

I want to sleep for days or years

Is it true you have a bottle

Filled with my frenetic tears?

Is it true you love me strongly

Even though my love is small?

Is it true you’ll read this verse

And it won’t change your love at all?

Why People Scare Me

By now, you've probably picked up that I just love people! And because there's a flip side to every coin, that can be both a good and bad thing. You're astute enough to know the good reasons; among the bad reasons is the fact I put way too much stock in what people think of me. I feel like I fly by the seat of my pants in friendships because I'm always acting on assumptions of how I'm making the people feel.


Which brings me to the point: I don't give the most dependable, trustworthy people in my life enough credit, because it's so difficult for me to trust.


It may appall you to know that I receive compliments with more skepticism than I care to admit. Over the years, I've lived in fear that people are merely covering over their dislike for me--a dislike that will come back to bite me later.


Do they think I'm being a bad friend? Will she be mad at me because we didn't go to coffee this week? Should I have talked on the phone with her an hour longer? These questions constantly run through my head, so even when sincere love is staring me in the face, I often don't recognize it as such.

I have more encouraging people in my life than I ever could've hoped for. It's frustrating when I find myself doubting, even spurning, my friends' uplifting remarks because I'd rather disbelieve them now than be disenchanted later when I find out they don't like me that much after all. All this because my distrust springs from somewhere deeper: I don't trust the Lord when he says that I am lovable and worth loving.

"Perfect love casts out fear." Every day, I am more sanctified in this, like everything else, than I was yesterday. I look forward to seeing my relationships mutually flourish on a foundation of unity and fellowship instead of fear.

P.S. How is it that there are no "fear" or "trust" tags in my tag cloud at this point? That thing is getting humongous! There has to be some overlap here! Until then, I'll just keep throwing in new words...