a matter of time

I have so many things I want to write about, but can never seem to land on a topic long enough to come up with anything. I think it's because I've learned over the past year that a lot of the things that seem to constantly be on my mind also cast a shadow over my spirit and are simply things out of my control that are better pushed to the side of my thoughts. Things that only time will resolve and reveal, and I just need to wait.

I feel like I write too much about the topic of waiting, but that's the season of life I'm in right now. A lot of areas in my life cause me to practice this. Waiting for approval to finish a job, waiting on information to complete a list, waiting for healing, waiting on the Lord...waiting.

Right now there are a couple of things I want to grasp in my hands and fix, to make better, change, or finish. But in these situations, that's completely and entirely impossible. I'm trying to wrap my mind around the fact that it's not that my hands are tied behind my back and I'm completely helpless - because that's exactly how it feels - but it's a matter of faith, of total surrender to the Lord's will and timing. It's trusting Him to finish the job as He sees fit, and in the timing He's ordained.

Faith still doesn't always come natural to me. I'm someone who naturally wants to get things done and take action. It's one of the few things I inherited from my mom - Ladies' Meeting at 6:30? Our dishes are prepared and on a warming tray at 3:00. She calls herself a Martha, and I feel the same way so often. When you're naturally bent in that direction, sitting with empty hands and a troubled heart makes you feel so helpless.

Waiting. I asked my dad about it a few months ago, talked to him about how I knew it was simple enough, but didn't understand why God required so very much of it for some people, why even in it's simplicity it can be so hard. He reminded me that waiting can be another word for serving - like when you're at a restaurant, the job of your waiter is to serve you. Perhaps that's what God wants more of from me, from others - service. Wholeheartedly for Him. It's a lesson in patience, in service, in surrender.

Just a matter of time. I can flip back in the pages of my life and see things that have come to fruition quietly. Things that used to be such a big deal to me, but somewhere over the years they became smaller in my mind until they were resolved, and I didn't even notice. One day I'll look back on today, on the burdens that are so heavy for me, and realize God had a perfect plan. Yes, these burdens truly are bigger, more life-changing, and yet, however badly I resist, they are inevitable. I'll look back and see change and heartache, but I'll also see grace. 

If God can show me grace through the lonely days, through the difficult changes, surely I can be gracious in my service towards Him. It's just a matter of time until He reveals the reasons, shows us the full picture.

A Mendicant of God

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne

And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart

I cried, "But Lord this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.

This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me."

He said, "My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee."

I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,

As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.

I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,

He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.

-Martha Snell Nicholson

patience

My dad was preaching at a church a couple of hours from home recently, and since it wasn't far away we all loaded up and went. Usually him preaching at a different church means we may hear a sermon we've heard before, but that's ok, even the same outline is completely different from church to church.

This particular time he gave a bit of his testimony and the history of Cornerstone. Now, this doesn't change, but I could listen to it over and over again. When he first came to the town we live in now, he was still in the convention. After his trial sermon, and older lady shook his hand and told him she'd been praying for him for twenty years. Since he'd only just met her, this was a bit confusing. After looking at her a bit confused, she said, "You don't understand, I've been praying for a Bible believing pastor for twenty years." That would have been around the time my dad was eight years old - the age he was when his abusive, alcoholic father passed away. This lady may have been praying for a pastor, but that pastor turned out to be my dad - and those twenty years in his life had involved several major car accidents, the way too early death of his mother, suicidal thoughts, salvation, the call to preach, marriage, college, seminary...you see where I'm going.

Due to a stand on the KJV and a few other issues, a few years later, my dad was asked to resign that church. He handed in his resignation, and when he and my mom got to the parsonage there was a group of people waiting for him. They wanted to start a church. An independent, King James only, Baptist church. Mrs. Hailey, our valiant prayer warrior, was part of that group. They first met in a tent, then a community church building that was falling apart, and then in '94 they moved into the newly built building we're still in debt free.

Today, Cornerstone has been going strong for 25.5 years. We've expanded our sanctuary 3 times, built a gym, a Missions House, a residents house, and a Sunday School building. We're at full capacity - and to be honest, we're probably beyond that but the only way to get more room will be an entirely new building for a bigger sanctuary. I don't say any of this boastfully because God has a different time frame for every person and every church, but I say it to illustrate the great power there is in fervent and heartfelt prayer.

Now, I've heard that story my entire life. I'm 24 and our church was established one year before I was born. I don't remember Mrs. Hailey but I've seen her prayer journal and my mom wears her ring. For some reason, sitting in that church that night, the twenty years she'd spent praying stood out to me. Twenty years is a long time. I wonder if God had given her any signs that her prayer would eventually be answered or if her faith was strong enough that she didn't need one. Growing up hearing about her, I feel confident it was the latter.

She isn't around today, she didn't get to see that our biggest "problem" is our growth - and how can that be considered a problem? People have moved from states away to attend Cornerstone...and all of the credit goes to God, but what if she had given up? There have been things I've prayed about for going on five years, and I feel like my answer must be a "no" because I've seen no progress, but what about Mrs. Hailey? The fruit of her prayers continues to produce more fruit. I think, if she could see Cornerstone Baptist Church today, she would be utterly delighted.

She prayed, and God had a plan. She had patience, and God provided in due time. 

This is a time a great turmoil and great opportunity in America. It's a time for action, but there's never a moment we can give up praying. When I think it's a lost cause, I remember Mrs. Hailey. Twenty years of prayers for the same thing. Can I be as faithful?

God may not answer our prayers in our time frame, and I've told Him a time or two how much that frustrates me, but His plan is much more complex than we can see. Our prayers may be helping someone we've never met. We may not get to witness the fruit of our prayers in our lifetime, but I sure am grateful for Mrs. Hailey. Without her prayers my life would probably be entirely different. I feel like there's a generation of people in our church my age and younger who are the products of her and seventy-something other people who stepped out on faith and prayer into the power of God. How can I not hope to do the same for a future generation?

"Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen."

EPHESIANS 3:20-21

pulling weeds | eve

Since my favorite thing to read and write are stories based around a person in the Bible and imagining things from their point of view, I've decided that once a month, or once every two months, I'll write a story based on someone in the Bible and post it on here to hold myself accountable to write something - if I don't post, you get to remind me! I've written a couple of stories about Mary, but in order to not "exhaust" a story line, I'm starting with Eve and seeing where it goes from there. I don't want to take too much liberty with the Bible, and nothing I write is "gospel truth". It's simply what I imagine as I sit and think about these people in the Bible.

Pulling weeds.

Day in and day out, pulling weeds with calloused and blistered hands. Hands that used to be perfect, entirely unmarred and exactly as they had been created. If there were a way to compare those hands today, you wouldn’t believe they belonged to the same person. But even beyond the scars, they were changing. The skin was looser, the veins more prominent. She’d never seen this process before, but she supposed as time had passed and she’d watched her sons grow up, she had been growing old.

Pulling weeds.

They were everywhere. In her garden, by the house, taking over the pastures, and worst of all, the most stubborn ones had rooted deep by the marker of Abel’s grave.

Ah, Abel. Just like the precious lamb that had been her first experience with death, he had only wanted to please. Gentle and caring…and gone. Her fault. Cain had simply acted out of the sin in his heart, sin that wouldn’t have existed had she not done the only thing she’d ever been told not to.

Everything was her fault.  Yanking, jerking, pulling weeds. They ripped her skin and drew blood. She remembered the first time she ever saw a weed. Thinking back now, she realized how pure her mind had been that she hadn’t even known what it was...but now, they were her closest enemy. They grew everywhere, entangling, ensnaring, and they had overgrown her heart many years ago.

“Adam, what are these?”

“They are weeds, Eve. They are punishment.”

It had been a direct slap in the face, as it should be. She placed no blame but that she put on herself, which was the entirety of it. Who knew what would come next? All she was sure of was that even after she was gone, generations would be paying the price for her sin. Generations of her offspring.

Pulling weeds.

Sweet, sweet Seth. There in the distance with his own little ones, sweating and working and paying the price. The babes to come next would do the same. She would die for them all if she could. She would lay it all down if it would take this horrible curse away.

They had no idea nor would they ever know what Eden was like. As the years passed, she and Adam had ceased talking about it. The children only began to resent them as they grew, and it didn’t change anything to talk about it. But there wasn’t an hour that went by that she didn’t ache for the peace of the Garden. There wasn’t a night she didn’t dream of the sweet water and lush food. There wasn’t a problem or joy that came up that she didn’t long to talk to the Lord about. It had been quiet for too long. They had been cut off from their closest friend, and His silence was unbearable.

If only the debt was payable and the curse could be lifted.

She owed too much. She regretted it all, every minute of every day.

Pulling weeds.

  

I struggled knowing how to end Eve's story. I usually finish what I write on a positive note, but after being exiled from the Garden of Eden, Eve's story wasn't a happy one. There is a price for sin, and regret is something you simply have to live with.

twenty-four

Ten years ago this coming March, I wrote a letter to myself to be read when I turned 24. I'll be honest and say that when my mom found it during my 20th year I went ahead and read it. I stashed it away and forgot about it until I found it last spring and read it again. I put it in a visible place and haven't read it since then. 

Today is the day I had anticipated myself opening and reading it again for the first time all those years ago when I was fourteen - two months shy of finishing the eighth grade!

I thought I'd share it on here today as a reminder that through ups and downs and happinesses and sadnesses, time does pass. Sometimes it feels like it's standing still, but I remember this day so clearly and ten years have come and gone since sitting at my kitchen table with my journal/stationary book and penciling these words. 

Here we go! (I will take breaks for commentary on each paragraph.)

(Disclaimer: 14 year old me was a bit dramatic and still not that great at spelling!)

03-29-07

Dear 24,

Before this letter is thoughroly written or read, one question remains unasked: Have you been raptured? The Lord, if you're reading this on earth, has not yet come back, so let us proceed as normal.

One question remained...even though I'd just started the letter! I was obviously concerned about how much time I had left - and I remember thinking it was quite possible I could be reading it even if I'd been raptured!

How I envy who you are, 24! I long to grow up! Has the past ten years been what you dreamed of it? Is your name still Kelley [current last name] or Mrs. ______ _______? Have you yet been to Ireland, "Oh, land o' your secret dreams?" What has life given you, what have you given life?

Ah, 14, how I envy YOU! No, the past ten years haven't been all I dreamed they would be when I was 14. If you knew then where you would be now, you might be terribly disappointed. But you haven't yet learned the lessons I have, and this side of some of those dreams yet to be realized really isn't so bad as you might imagine. I haven't been to Ireland, though I wish I could remember where it was I read that line! Incorrectly used, Miss Fourteen - everyone has always known you want to go to Ireland. Maybe someday. You'll go to Australia, though, and Germany and Hawaii and so many beautiful places. They were all so much more than you ever imagined. The Lord has given me much, I have not given back nearly enough.

Are you truly happy, Kelley of 24? Is your heart content, full of love? Does your face wear the smile of peace, and harmony with all? Examine yourself, coveted 24. Who are you, what have you become. Do you, 24, brim over with life, compassion, and joy? Do it. Whatever you need to confess, say, or make known, do it. Before it's too late.

Yes, very very happy. You can't imagine how full of love your heart can get - in two years you'll become an aunt! It's the very best thing you'll experience. 

Months ago that peace was a little elusive, today it is very present. I have become someone who knows that God's will won't always make sense but that peace is a wonderful sign that you're in it. I don't know if I "brim over" with it, but I'm very excited about life and the time and window of opportunity I've been given.

And seriously. Stop being so worried about time.

I'll close with one last warning: Youth is happiness. Never forget, or forsake your youth. Friends that are true, come from your youth. And family ALWAYS MUST come first. Remember that, my blessed 24. Always remember.

"One last warning" - what was the first one? ;) 

Getting older is also happiness, 14. You will LOVE your 20's (except for maybe 23, but 24 is shaping up quite nicely)! Your friends will change, but that's ok. When you are 16 everything will kind of flip-flop. When you are 17 you will make friends who edify you. When you are 18 and 19 you will discover that those friends will be with you through everything. They will cry with you when your heart is broken and they will pray for you as you find your different paths. You will become friends with their significant others and you will love their babies to death. Your family will mean more to you with each passing year. Just wait, 14. It doesn't look like you're imagining, but just gets better and better.

Always remember the dream: PUBLISHED!

Ha! Now there's a dream that's changed. You will eventually realize you aren't a... novelist? Novel writer? You will realize that you don't enjoy writing novels as much as you love exploring the intricacies of day-to-day emotions and growth and experiences. You will start this blog where you can write whatever you feel like and "publish" it yourself.

I wish for you courage, determination, and happiness.

I am now of the past,

14

I then listed on a separate page my likes (reading and writing), what I was wearing (my brother's old basketball jersey), what my family was doing (getting ready for my brother's wedding), my best friends, and who my crush was at that time - in very tiny letters at the bottom of the page. Some things are still embarrassing! ;)

It's fun to see what I was hoping for and how things have changed. In a lot of ways I don't even feel like the same person! Maybe I'll write a dear 34...or maybe dear 30 so I can open it sooner!

my heart is definitely full

happenings

"Do you ever wonder if you'll ever know what it's like to not even be a little tired?"

"And to think you don't even have a baby waking up at night..."

So went my silly question and sarcastic response from one of our assistant pastors (who just so happens to have a newborn!). Ah, the different stages of life and the things that accompany them!

Just getting out of missions conference and feeling like we're barreling through the Christmas season, it's hard to find time to sit and enjoy everything that comes with this time of the year. Something as simple as letting things go can make such a huge difference, but it's amazing how difficult that can be.

I normally write a poem for our Christmas cards, but this year I had to let that go. We mailed them about a week ago, and I'm still feeling bad about it. My brother did it for years, and then when he went off to med school, that Christmas tradition was handed down to me to carry out. This year my mom wrote a quick update on our year and we got those pictures in the mail. I love that tradition, and I'm planning on starting next year's in July. ;) 

So far we have only watched one Christmas film. Usually Thanksgiving night we begin with Holiday Inn with Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire and watch one nearly every weekend leading up to Christmas Eve where we'll end with It's A Wonderful Life (my all time favorite movie anytime of the year). This year we watched the shortest one I could find and squeezed it in while we were all thinking about the huge lists we each had to get done. 

Amie and I make our teachers' gifts together - she makes a few things, and I do too. Several years we've been in the kitchen together preparing them, but between her piano students and me painting the hallway, well, hers are done and mine are not. (Her cookies and cheese logs are quite good, though!)

This week though, we're going to really enjoy Christmas and I can't wait! It actually started last Friday night when our Sunday School went out to eat and then to Opryland Hotel to walk around. I'll insert the big group picture when I get it, but here's a "group selfie" of the people I walked around with all night.

Saturday night I helped my friend throw her first Christmas party at her and her husband's new home. They live just five minutes down the road and we had finger foods and tacky sweaters and gag gifts and games and a houseful of happy people!

 

Monday morning we had Lena Rae and Dougy for a bit, and I decided I would go in late to work so I could make pancakes and sausage because I was missing breakfasts. (When you go to bed at 1am, you tend to oversleep and grab a granola bar on your way out!) I made a big ol' stack and Lena Rae had 3 and I had 3 and we were so full and it was delightful.

My dad has been preaching away since Monday, and he'll get back this morning. Our annual open house for our church is Sunday night, so we've been painting and cleaning and to be honest, doing a few manly things (like hanging mini blinds. I'm so impressed with myself). When he gets back, the house will be clean and shiny and sparkling with lights. We will have cookies and caramel apples and probably iced tea since it's been 70 - 75 degrees here (Tender Tennessee Christmas! haha). I'll put on Holiday Inn and guess what? We're going to sit down...together. 

All that to say, I know it's been quiet on here. I know that I never finished my Thanksgiving week and there probably won't be a Christmas story this year. Just go back and read last year's or the one I wrote when I was nineteen.

I hope everyone is having a good Christmas! Whether you're with family or not, remember that it's all about your perspective. So many times over the past few weeks I've wanted to sit down and have a little cry because it didn't feel like Christmas. We weren't all together and the house was in chaos and it was 9 at night and I was still painting. But a few deep breaths, a few looks around at all the blessings, and you can make any situation a little bit brighter by changing your outlook. Whether you think you can or you think you can't, you're right. Even if you don't celebrate Christmas traditionally, do what we do and celebrate family, the gifts of God, and Christ lowering himself to meet us on our level as the most innocent and vulnerable of all human beings. 

Thank you for still reading this blog. Sometimes it's just a simple documentation of my days, but I put it up for me to go back and remember. Please make the most of the last few weeks we have left in 2015! It really is a wonderful life, and it really does pass all too quickly!

first in my heart

 "If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up."

It's difficult sometimes. When the dreams and plans you've been building for years slowly start crumbling around you, it's difficult to remember that He's still good. As those pieces of the hopes you've had begin tumbling, you scramble after them, chasing, grasping, desperately trying to put them back together. But the harder you try, the more impossible it seems, and the more scattered those precious pieces of hopes become. Slipping away, impossible to retrieve.

As I've tried to write this for a couple of weeks now, I couldn't get past the first paragraph. I thought of giving examples, sharing some of the struggles my friends and even I have faced in this past year. But when I went back to our conversations, our shared tears and heartbreaks, I couldn't overlook the way every conversation concluded.

"I know God has a plan."

"I'm sure the Lord is teaching me something through this."

"I just have to wait on Him, and trust that He knows best."

Waiting is hard when the end isn't in sight. But the longer I wait the more I find a place of peace. In the moments when I want to question Christ, when I just don't understand and can't make sense of the things He allows, it's as if He shoves a reminder in my face.  For example...

Weirdly enough, two of my very favorite parts of the day are my 7 minute drives to and from work. On the way there, I sip my coffee and listen to music. On the way home, I sip my water and listen to music. The past few days, every song (actually just 2 or 3 because I'm a repeat kind of girl) has been about the sacrifice that Calvary required. How very deep the Father's love is for us, to give His only son to pay our ransom. It was my sin that held my Savior to the tree.

And then this morning, the words and the melody of a song wrapped themselves around me like a familiar, comforting blanket. I don't know what was more meaningful - the words, or the familiarity of the song itself. One I've been singing since before I can remember singing. One I've heard since birth when my parents sang it as they put me to bed, one I've sung in the nursery, when I babysat, and to my nephews and niece. A song sung at funerals, at weddings, during nearly every holiday, and during many church services.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound... How sweet the sound. His grace is amazing, vast, and completely forgiving.

...that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I'm found, was blind but now I see. Even after salvation, He seeks us out, He finds us.

But my own personal favorite hymn?

Be thou my vision, oh Lord of my heart. Naught be all else to me save that thou art... I think that if we could look beyond the circumstances we find ourselves in and focus on Him, the "things of earth will grow strangely dim" and nothing would matter but Him.

...thou and thou only, first in my heart... Shouldn't this be my goal? For Him to be first in everything? Every dream, every wish, every hope. Him first. Always. "Abhorring all my sin, adoring only Him."

I want to have a family. I want my friends to have a baby. I want health for the sick, comfort for the widow, love for the lonely.

But if not, He is still good.

the longing for heaven

I mentioned in my last post that I was considering sharing my thoughts on the recent Supreme Court ruling. I had pretty much decided not to, until I was reading today, and a sentence really stood out to me.

But if it were all such as this, where would the longing for heaven be?

There are times, where I live, when it's easy to forget everything that's going on in the rest of the world. When I got online that Friday and saw all the headlines and the rainbow graphics, I was totally surprised and confused. It didn't take a second of reading though before I figured out exactly what had happened...and I couldn't believe that I was reading about America. I couldn't believe that once again, the government had overruled what we'd already voted against (my state, anyway). It was an awful realization, and a terrible feeling. For the rest of the weekend I was ready to charge D.C. and sign any petition sent to me.
 
 And then Sunday came and went, and summer camps began, and while I still discussed it occasionally with my friends, for the most part it got pushed to the back of my mind, more important things taking priority in my thoughts. As they should.

Because no matter how small my town is, no matter that I'm planted in the center of the Bible belt, no matter how fiercely independent the South likes to be, we are not exempt from being infiltrated with the perversion of a filthy world.

As much as I'd love to hide in the hills surrounding me and live the rest of my life in one of the many valleys or hollows in my area, that is not the reality of this life. I wish everything everywhere were as beautiful and serene as certain days in my life are all the time.

But if it were all such as this, where would the longing for heaven be?

The longing for heaven is near. Nearer than before, and I believe closer than ever.

When I spend the day with my nephews and niece, when I walk outside at 7am and it's already nearly 80 degrees, when the sunshine seems to warm me from the inside out. A little heaven coming down to kiss my life.

But if it were all such as this...

Time with family. Laughter with friends. Singing. Reading. 

...where would the longing for heaven be?

I am saddened and disappointed by my country, but I have a deeper sense of desire for the home to come. This is where the longing for heaven is.

leaving it

 "Lord...I don't even know how to pray for this. I don't know what to ask, I don't know what to offer. Lord...Lord..."

Pauses. Silence. Broken prayers.

Have you ever been here? You go to pray, you have a designated time, spot, and miraculously it works out that you are alone in the quiet with the Lord. The time you've been waiting for. You get on your knees, still your heart, and...

"Lord..."

Quiet. For the next several moments you listen to your breathing, your heartbeat.

And so many times, words escape you. You have prayed the same prayers over and over until you feel like a broken record. The repetition of your pleas have become monotonous, and honestly, you're just tired of praying for them.

"I know you hear me, Lord. I know you're here."

More silence as you struggle to express the things in your heart that don't want to be described with words.

"Let me make a difference. Don't let this be in vain. Show me what to do. Let my voice be heard."

As I pray for America, I find that I don't know what to say.

"Show mercy, continue to give us grace. Turn the hearts of the leaders to you. Protect my country. Show mercy..."

Over. And over. And over again.

So lately, I've been silent. I've stopped letting words just spill out and I've given them some thought.

"Right now, the voices of the wicked are so loud. They fill the news and make me feel small, weak, and terrified. Let Christians regain their voice. Give us the courage to stand and fight for what's right. The wicked have drowned us out for far to long. Fill us with boldness for you. Fill us with courage, strengthen our voices and our stand. Let us be heard."

I may only pray for 15 minutes. But I will sit in silence for many more than that. I want Him to know that when I stand and go my way, I have left it all in His hands. I gather all the worries and fears and doubts and insecurities in a nice little package and I leave it there before Him.

Sometimes I go and pick a few things back up, but every day, I will gather it again, lay it down, and turn my back.

I will continuously beg for mercy. I will not stop asking for another chance. I will beseech on behalf of my nation.

And then I will leave it with Him.

where God is

As a girl - the very girly, ruffles and lace kind - I have my share of what you might call "dreamy days". I think any female reading this knows what I'm talking about. On these days, your head is in the clouds, you feel a mix of fullness and emptiness, your emotions war between joy and sadness, and you're overall not as productive as you are on other days.

Dreamy days. Usually for me it's after late night reading that bled into the wee hours of the morning. Reading the end of a book, falling immediately asleep and dreaming that I'm the girl I just read about. Waking is such sweet sorrow... (sorry Shakespeare, I had to tweak it to fit what I'm trying to say.)

No, I did not travel to the Holy Land last night and meet Mr. Right. I did not ride a horse along the Jordan River or pray by the Sea of Galilee. I did not spend the night at an inn in Bethlehem...but are those things on my bucket list now? Absolutely. Not that they weren't already on it, I just hadn't considered riding an Arabian horse down the streets of Jerusalem. Now that I know you can, I'll have to add it!

The thing is, I think we need dreamy days. I think God has placed a desire in my heart to be a wife, a mother. Maybe even this desire to travel is from Him, I don't know. But I don't think it's wrong for me to think of those things, dream of those days. I just have to keep in mind that while it's yet to be, He is here with me. I thought it fitting this morning as I struggled with the desire to stay asleep and finish my oh so sweet dream, that my Bible reading was in Exodus 20. We think if this chapter as the Ten Commandments chapter, but near the end, in verse 21, the people are afraid. But Moses? Moses just wanted to be near the Lord.

"And the people stood afar off, and Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where God was."

Moses drew near alone. Maybe that's all it takes. A step away from the others, another, and step by step, he became more alone. Step by step, he came closer to the One who held his heart in the palm of His hand. The One who shelters us in the clift of a rock. He hideth my soul. Lessons learned in solitude are the ones that show us our dependence upon Him.

May my desires fade into the background and the desire to be near Him rise to the surface, filling my life, making me wholly His. He seeks us out, and I want to be there, ready to be found, ready to spend time with and near Him.

The future may look a little dark right now because I can't see what it holds. But Moses drew near the thick darkness because that's where God was. As I read last night, the tears in my eyes weren't because the heroine found her hero and I haven't yet. They came when the characters in my book waded into the waters of the River Jordan. Those fictional beings might have fished in the sea of Galilee, but me? I want to kneel on it's banks and pray. The thoughts of being in the same places my Lord was warms me from the inside out. I would love to be there - alone with Him, able to pray and think and absorb. But I may never get to be where God was, my future may not hold it. But that's where God was...and I know where He is.

So I may be a little dreamy today, my head swimming in the clouds, but I want to hide in Him. I want to draw near to the thick darkness. I want to curl up in it, close to Him. Where God is.

gritty details

"The reality is that often the radical abandonment Christ calls us to is not some glamorous sacrifice, but simple obedience in the gritty details of everyday life." 

  

I don’t know where this quote came from other than it was in an email from a friend several years ago. If they came up with it themselves, bravo, because it’s been my “life quote” for some time now.

As I struggled with what to do on this blog a few months ago, I tried going back to the beginning to see why I started it in the first place. I was traveling to Germany with my friends, and it was a way to document and keep our families informed about our journey. I was also one year out of high school, had recently confirmed in my heart that I was not going to go to college, and I guess I thought that that trip was setting some sort of travel themed precedent for the rest of my single life or something.

I kept writing and sharing because it’s something I truly enjoy, and I thought before I knew it, the next destination would be ready for me to document. But there wasn’t a next destination for quite some time, the gritty details of everyday life really aren’t that exciting, and though I’m learning things every day, the “adventurer” inside me isn’t satisfied.

I would never describe myself as an true adventurer though. I’m not a daredevil nor am I very confident. However, I have a curiosity for other places in the world, and a desire to see as much as I possibly can in this lifetime. Once again, though, “as much as I possibly can” isn’t very much at this point in my life.

One of these days, I will be able to take more missions trips. One of these days I will finally go to Ireland. I will stand on the Cliffs of Moher, I will spend the night in a castle. These are things I really and truly believe I will do one day. Maybe I’ll be 50 and have finally been married and have grown children, or maybe it’ll be a spontaneous hurry-and-pack trip or maybe I’ll finally talk some people into going with me… or maybe it won’t happen, and maybe I need to be more content in the gritty details of everyday life. But I think it’s good to have goals and ambitions and dream a little bigger on those days when the everyday is closing in.

I cannot tell you about the glamorous sacrifices God has called me to, because He hasn’t. I rarely have to sacrifice anything – and if I do, it’s really not even a sacrifice, but a simple “no” to something frivolous.  

But neither can I brag about the gritty details of my everyday life. We humans can find the tiniest things to be proud about, and I’m not here to flaunt anything. I have nothing to flaunt, because all that I have and all that I am is a gift that I didn’t earn.

I am here to encourage and uplift when I can. I want this blog to be a happy place, and I will make it that to the best of my ability. My life right now is new recipes, DIY projects, babysitting, church ministry, and quiet days filled with doing my job and reading my books. It’s a simple, happy life that I’m content with. I will forever be reaching for the next thing, trying to skip ahead to the next chapter, and asking God to give me that mountain, but for now, I will enjoy my gritty details.

So whether you're on a big adventure to a place God has called you to, whether you're traveling the globe because it's your chance, or whether you live each day knowing the next one will be similar, know that simple obedience is the calling. The rest will follow, and one is no better than the other.   Embrace the unique, nitty gritty little things that make the day yours.

I realize this post sounds very, very similar to others I've posted recently. Bear with me, I'm figuring it out! ;)