My new blog is on wordpress.com at www.alleluia09.wordpress.com!!!
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Thursday, April 4, 2013
No Other Sin
There is one particular sin I've struggled with the most, it literally is the thorn of my side, like Paul had but just looks a little different. If you know me well, you know what sin I am talking about. This sin has haunted me from a very young age, it took root in childhood when I was most helpless and unaware and took away my innocence. It then showed itself again at the age of 15 with a trusted leader and friend of mine at the time. Although I am a vulnerable person, I will leave this sin unnamed for your sake and mine. So that both you and I understand fully that sin is sin and therefore it is all measured by the same standard.
I believed this sin was a form of love and that it was the only way I could receive love and worth from those that I trusted. It followed me year after year after year as I gave myself over to it more and more, eventually hoping to become numb to the voice and to the Word that taught against it. It was what I desired, it's what made ME happy and it's what made ME feel loved, so how could it be bad?
It was all about ME.
The Holy Spirit and I wrestled from the moment I allowed this sin to get out of control. His voice never left my side all those years. He was only silent when I choose to fully immerse myself in this sin. I did not hear his voice after, I only heard the voice that led me into the sin. Except now it taunted me and filled me with overwhelming guilt and left me in tears for days.
Then came sweet conviction. Before fully knowing the love of Jesus I only saw the law and God's anger along with His finger pointing, accusing and shaming me. Little did I know, it was an illusion of God. It wasn't long after, when I was 18 years old that I had a great revelation of God and His love and above all, that He was my Love and because of it, I was fully free.
I would like to say Happily Ever After, that's it, I learned my lesson and stepped out of my sin. Little did I know that road out would be a long one and an intense refining of all that I believed. I came into a season of this sin in which God gave me over to it. He is not a God who fights us or forces us to choose Him or His way. No matter how desperately jealous He is for us, He is a God who keeps to his promises and He promised us our free will. So I left Him for this sin. I mean, I was still a Christian and I "loved" Him but you know, felt like it was time I called the shots to what I thought would fulfill my great emptiness. I began a descent into darkness, I struggled with depression and felt filthy. I would sit on my bed crying, yelling at God to leave me alone because I was determined that He could never want who I'd become.
I can see Him now in that small bedroom, standing next to the door, heartbroken but steadfast. He was not leaving, He was not moving, He was determined to meet me as I was, whether I liked it or not. He said nothing and in it, He said it all. I had lost that battle, Amen.
Eventually I choose Him. Walking out of this sin that had crippled me for so long was painful. It exhausted me as cancer exhausts its captors and brought me to my knees in my frailty. It's as if I was trying to rehabilitate my whole body after a life threatening crash and I now walked on broken bones in the hope that through this pain, healing would come. What this sin had numbed and let die, I had to walk out so that life would spring out of these places again.
I have recently dealt yet another battle with this sin and yes, it beat and battered me as I gave into its ways but I know I gave it a run for its money this time around. I've begun to come into a place where both my spirit and flesh no longer desire it. Little sprouts of new desire came up out of what I thought was dead soil. Desire and delight for His will have begun to bloom.
As I said earlier it intensely refined all I believed, my body, soul and spirit. Not because the sin itself was being removed, no, it was because the LARGE amount of grace I received in the midst of this battle that raged for years. I have many sins besides this one but no other sin has brought me to His throne as much as this one. No other sin has forced me to turn to Him for help when I thought I could repair the damage myself. No other sin has humbled me to the ground and shown me how utterly weak I am and caused me to rejoice in my weakness. No other sin has hurt so many people and forced me to form an unwavering kinship with forgiveness. No other sin has caused me to look upon people with relentless grace, mercy and love.
I no longer walk on broken bones. As a matter of fact I dance upon His strength for I know that though I haven't seen full redemption in the physical, I have been redeemed and it's manifestation in the natural is arriving soon. I will explode with joy when I have seen full victory from this sin. Mostly because I know that I have grown to a place where I won't need my sins to show me His grace; His grace will have become more natural to me and will be taught to me in a different way.
In conclusion to this testimony, I say that if you have given yourself over Him, His Word and the voice of His Spirit then it is impossible for you to dwell in sin and be okay with what God has deemed as a sin because His Spirit in you rejects it completely. One cannot dwell in death unless they have allowed the world to numb them to it. If He is your Love then His pain will pierce you because the sin you've given yourself over too has distanced you from Him. If you know Him, you will know what is an a illusion of Him and what is really Him, for His sheep know His voice.
I am not a fan of judgement. For as you can clearly see I, in no way have reached the criteria to be called Judge. Instead I want to be a David. A man who knows his weakness but understood His strength came from knowing he stood at the center of the Lord's love despite all that he was. I wanna be a David in that, if something in me does not line up with the Word of God I declare war on it until it's under my feet. "Search me O God and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting,"(Pslam 139:23-24). He knows you. He is not fooled and He is not disgusted. He only yearns to be closer, will you let Him?
I believed this sin was a form of love and that it was the only way I could receive love and worth from those that I trusted. It followed me year after year after year as I gave myself over to it more and more, eventually hoping to become numb to the voice and to the Word that taught against it. It was what I desired, it's what made ME happy and it's what made ME feel loved, so how could it be bad?
It was all about ME.
The Holy Spirit and I wrestled from the moment I allowed this sin to get out of control. His voice never left my side all those years. He was only silent when I choose to fully immerse myself in this sin. I did not hear his voice after, I only heard the voice that led me into the sin. Except now it taunted me and filled me with overwhelming guilt and left me in tears for days.
Then came sweet conviction. Before fully knowing the love of Jesus I only saw the law and God's anger along with His finger pointing, accusing and shaming me. Little did I know, it was an illusion of God. It wasn't long after, when I was 18 years old that I had a great revelation of God and His love and above all, that He was my Love and because of it, I was fully free.
I would like to say Happily Ever After, that's it, I learned my lesson and stepped out of my sin. Little did I know that road out would be a long one and an intense refining of all that I believed. I came into a season of this sin in which God gave me over to it. He is not a God who fights us or forces us to choose Him or His way. No matter how desperately jealous He is for us, He is a God who keeps to his promises and He promised us our free will. So I left Him for this sin. I mean, I was still a Christian and I "loved" Him but you know, felt like it was time I called the shots to what I thought would fulfill my great emptiness. I began a descent into darkness, I struggled with depression and felt filthy. I would sit on my bed crying, yelling at God to leave me alone because I was determined that He could never want who I'd become.
I can see Him now in that small bedroom, standing next to the door, heartbroken but steadfast. He was not leaving, He was not moving, He was determined to meet me as I was, whether I liked it or not. He said nothing and in it, He said it all. I had lost that battle, Amen.
Eventually I choose Him. Walking out of this sin that had crippled me for so long was painful. It exhausted me as cancer exhausts its captors and brought me to my knees in my frailty. It's as if I was trying to rehabilitate my whole body after a life threatening crash and I now walked on broken bones in the hope that through this pain, healing would come. What this sin had numbed and let die, I had to walk out so that life would spring out of these places again.
I have recently dealt yet another battle with this sin and yes, it beat and battered me as I gave into its ways but I know I gave it a run for its money this time around. I've begun to come into a place where both my spirit and flesh no longer desire it. Little sprouts of new desire came up out of what I thought was dead soil. Desire and delight for His will have begun to bloom.
As I said earlier it intensely refined all I believed, my body, soul and spirit. Not because the sin itself was being removed, no, it was because the LARGE amount of grace I received in the midst of this battle that raged for years. I have many sins besides this one but no other sin has brought me to His throne as much as this one. No other sin has forced me to turn to Him for help when I thought I could repair the damage myself. No other sin has humbled me to the ground and shown me how utterly weak I am and caused me to rejoice in my weakness. No other sin has hurt so many people and forced me to form an unwavering kinship with forgiveness. No other sin has caused me to look upon people with relentless grace, mercy and love.
I no longer walk on broken bones. As a matter of fact I dance upon His strength for I know that though I haven't seen full redemption in the physical, I have been redeemed and it's manifestation in the natural is arriving soon. I will explode with joy when I have seen full victory from this sin. Mostly because I know that I have grown to a place where I won't need my sins to show me His grace; His grace will have become more natural to me and will be taught to me in a different way.
In conclusion to this testimony, I say that if you have given yourself over Him, His Word and the voice of His Spirit then it is impossible for you to dwell in sin and be okay with what God has deemed as a sin because His Spirit in you rejects it completely. One cannot dwell in death unless they have allowed the world to numb them to it. If He is your Love then His pain will pierce you because the sin you've given yourself over too has distanced you from Him. If you know Him, you will know what is an a illusion of Him and what is really Him, for His sheep know His voice.
I am not a fan of judgement. For as you can clearly see I, in no way have reached the criteria to be called Judge. Instead I want to be a David. A man who knows his weakness but understood His strength came from knowing he stood at the center of the Lord's love despite all that he was. I wanna be a David in that, if something in me does not line up with the Word of God I declare war on it until it's under my feet. "Search me O God and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting,"(Pslam 139:23-24). He knows you. He is not fooled and He is not disgusted. He only yearns to be closer, will you let Him?
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Sweet Herbs and Cream: A Poem about Coffee/Tea
There's something so satisfying about a hot cup of coffee or tea in the morning. Something shared universally throughout the world. I wonder if everyone feels as peaceful and loved as I do in that moment because it's not something that should be rushed or done in a place of unrest. Aromas open the mind towards reflection with my Love and the day's adventure with Him and the days to come.
Literally the instant the hot liquid filled with sweet cream and herbs hits my tongue and creates a warm path as it trickles throughout the insides of my chest; it feels like the greatest of embraces as I sink back into my chair and deeply breathe in my surroundings and enjoy the moment for what it always was, blessed.
Literally the instant the hot liquid filled with sweet cream and herbs hits my tongue and creates a warm path as it trickles throughout the insides of my chest; it feels like the greatest of embraces as I sink back into my chair and deeply breathe in my surroundings and enjoy the moment for what it always was, blessed.
The power of something so small and mundane lifts me out of this pride of what God can do in this place. That even in a cup of coffee/tea there is a very beautiful story or adventure that is yet to be seen.
If you think about it, how sweet is a warm cup of jo shared among friends? Whether it be instant coffee with a beautiful and mighty Ecuadorian woman or a long lost sister who comes from the same mountainous blood. It cultivates and nourishes an atmosphere in which one feels they can genuinely and freely choose to give, take, share and care.
In fact, I know a beautiful Ethiopian boy at the age of three, that traveled far from his home as he and his sister joined their new family. Though America was grand, his heart still longed for his wonderful African land. Each morning, even now, he finds consistency in coffee grounds as he chats and drink in a splendor spirit with his courageous, bold mother. They will forever join together in these moments that had always been planned, even when they did not know that such a time would exist.
All over the Middle east they share tea with new and old friends as a form of welcoming one into their hearts, where you'll forever be, even when distance pulls bonds across the seas.
Tea saves lives, especially those that have staked their claim that they are clearly a people that are Not For Sale! Instead of chains, tea has given them their way, in the thick and the majestic Amazon place, and is only the beginning of a bigger and brighter destiny.
Oh! It's quite silly that I could write such a piece on a thing that is so easily within our reach. Its equivalence is far from gold and any other riches we desire. But how precious is a commodity shared by the lowly and wealthy alike? That cultivates such moments that I wouldn't trade for all the riches offered by the devil himself. I love these warm treats and the people and places it allows me to meet. But most notably it's where I tangibly feel the grace that surrounds me; a place I come too every morning and instantly takes me beyond my capabilities.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Petition for the Slave
You're the Lion, fierce and dangerous in every winsome way
Holy Spirit Your heart cries out for the slave
The one who is beaten and the one who is raped
Your anguish pours out from passion that crushes.
And oh that You would CRUSH the head of evil, that spreads and expands like air in our lungs
Open our mouths, move our tongues and make our prayers many,
Make them for the girl who runs for her life; for the little boy on the streets with nowhere to hide
Love evil hearts because nothing in me moves for them
My flesh refuses to speak out for even one
Unconditional love of a Savior is so much greater
It produces righteous anger against the source of such disgusting behavior
Holy Spirit QUICKEN!
Help me to believe that one prayer can save the soul I do not know
That it will break the chains that I have never known
If my faith can move a mountain, can it then tear down more than one brothel?
And if corruption hold her with force and guards her under heavy lock
I plead Your goodness creeps in her soul
Like a sunrise that steals beneath the cracks
That your face would flood her eyes ,extinguishing darkness as the beloved disciple has described
With You near, Your MIGHTY ROAR will be an anthem in her ears
Your arms will be her home
Bringing peace that will bear her incomprehensible horrors
Remind her how you died for her
How each day Your mighty army grows stronger
So that one day she'll know evil no longer
Don't tell me I'm naive!
That my petition to God is worthless!
I believe like a child, unashamed and filled with confidence
Can't you feel it?
I already sense that all of hell TREMBLES
If I must be here and she over there
I will FIGHT with faith; share my hopes and dreams with her through prayer
Holy Spirit in all your faithfulness
Make sure everyday that the one I pray for
receive this letter for these words are from her Savior
If you have ever seen the movie, The Whistle Blower, which depicts a true story of UN Peacekeepers in Bosnia who participated and found their pleasures in trafficking Eastern European girls. People who were originally sent to protect a vulnerable country that was emerging from a devastating war. And how ultimately the UN, on many different levels tried to ignore allegations against the known perpetrators within their services. When these men were faced with 'justice' they were simply sent home and faced no charges from their country of origin. UN Peacekeepers thrived in the sex trafficking business because they received immunity within the country that they were supposed to be helping. This movie is graphic. However, even this movie cannot fully show the emotional and physical abuse/torture these women go through. I was filled with anger and helplessness. I cannot be these girls' savior, I wish I could raid and crush each and every man with my bare hands who touch these girls, but lets face it, I really can't. That doesn't mean that I don't have power. I have power that is unmatched because of my Savior. I confess that when He told me that I could do so much in prayer I responded that I didn't feel like it was enough. Reality is, God has me here in Oklahoma. I'm here with reason and purpose and not in Bosnia, DRoC or Mexico, etc. where tragedy strips people daily. The places in which each and everyone of us are, is enough because we were put there by God. But we can reach into other nations through prayer and fasting, in ways that are greater than if we were to go over to the country ourselves. I write this knowing that not a whole lot of people read this blog and that's okay because as you know I write for the audience of One. However, to the few who do, make it a point and be intentional in praying for the slaves of sex trafficking, drug trafficking, sweat shops or who are caught in any other form of forced labor. Slavery is a problem all around the world but also within our nation. Dream BIG in your prayers, don't hold back from Him!
-Isaiah 61:1-7 (if you need help on how to pray)
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
A Poet's Past
I threw away a lot of writing that I did in middle school and high school. A lot of them were about boys, in which I thought every one of them was somehow the end of my life. Aside from the teenage drama, I suppose each boy I have dated was the end of life as I knew it and I praise God for it because by His grace I've become a better woman. Anyways, here's a piece from high school. As I read it now I don't fully understand why I wrote it. I know I was in a dark place looking for light. There are two drafts and I guess in between the two I went through a change of heart, found some Light and rewrote the poem.
#1 A Little Closer To Heaven #2 A Little Closer to Heaven
Today I climbed a mountain Today my dreams soared
So high you cannot see its top So high you cannot see them
The higher I got, my problems blew away The higher they got the more they soared
Along with my loved ones too And the more I hoped you'd be my loved one
If I could take someone with me And I will take you with me
He would change the stars You have changed the stars
And create the seas And created the seas
But he stands so far You stand so close to me
We are but two souls now But I am still not yours
I come a little closer to heaven I came a little closer to heaven
So alone and unaware So alone
As I look back and see him As I look back I see you
Tears fill his eyes but joy consumes his heart Tears fill your eyes but joy consumes your heart
His hamds stretch to catch me Your hands stretch to catch me
But this time I will not fall But by your side I will stand tall
If I could take someone with me I will take you with me
He would change my heart You have changed my heart
And create a smile And created my smile
#1 A Little Closer To Heaven #2 A Little Closer to Heaven
Today I climbed a mountain Today my dreams soared
So high you cannot see its top So high you cannot see them
The higher I got, my problems blew away The higher they got the more they soared
Along with my loved ones too And the more I hoped you'd be my loved one
If I could take someone with me And I will take you with me
He would change the stars You have changed the stars
And create the seas And created the seas
But he stands so far You stand so close to me
We are but two souls now But I am still not yours
I come a little closer to heaven I came a little closer to heaven
So alone and unaware So alone
As I look back and see him As I look back I see you
Tears fill his eyes but joy consumes his heart Tears fill your eyes but joy consumes your heart
His hamds stretch to catch me Your hands stretch to catch me
But this time I will not fall But by your side I will stand tall
If I could take someone with me I will take you with me
He would change my heart You have changed my heart
And create a smile And created my smile
But he cannot see it Though you cannot see it
We are two instead of one now You are closer than ever
A white blanket comes in view Your open arms come into view
I lay my head to rest And I embrace you forever
And slowly fade away Slowly I hold you tighter
Now I am a little bit closer to heaven Now I am a little bit closer to heaven
If I could put someone in my dreams You will always be in my dreams
He would make them come true You will make them come true
And create my happy ending And create my happy ending
But he's only a dream You're not only a dream
We are in two worlds now You're my everything
Soon that day will come Soon that day will come
For me to see For me to be
This great man, who made life livable With this man who made life livable
And dreams visible And dreams visible
Friday, February 1, 2013
Write
Writing has carried me throughout the toughest moments, the darkest, the happiest; it's held onto dreams yet to come into fruition. It's like a bank in which I deposit all things which are painfully honest or too embarrassing to tell. I think about the many who don't have the ability to write. Either due to lack of education, materials and/or freedom.
I think about history and how the world was forever changed at the dawn of language and again when the age of putting life in the form of characters in dirt, tablets, or any other material they could keep record of life on. This continued so on and so forth as technology advanced and we print news and record tragic and marvelous events. People wrote because they knew today or someday somebody would read it and that it would have purpose.
Some may think that writing is over rated. That it holds no cure for their own personal pain or even for the worlds. I read articles about the thousands killed in places like Syria and a journalists plea for the world to take action. I hear song lyrics that speak of moments so trapped inside an artist that the only way to release it's claim on their soul is to write it for the world to hear. We write to share the burden of a problem or to release erupting joy. I think of how some will silence the voice. Others will allow it to stay with them for a time because it relates to their own memories and present moment. Still, to many others it inspires movements or change and it heals or allows walls to be broken.
The permanence of print somehow allows these horrible and/or magnificent events in the world at large or from within ourselves to become real or tangible, making it easier to grasp. The memory or moment can no longer haunt us but we can look at it again, face to face, and defeat it or remember it in times of need. Even if the print were destroyed or burned, the story would forever be told, giving it the ability to change the present and/or future. Somehow writing it all out, emancipates us to be vulnerable and raw, and it sets within us power that threatened to leave us just moments ago. It reveals a Presence we never thought we'd find or get back.
I wrote poetry all through high school. Throughout this time I was very depressed and so naturally, my writing was dark. It held anger, pain and fear. I actually felt guilty because I was negative. I didn't see rainbows or roses, I saw dark clouds and storms. That all seemed to counter my beliefs of a God who saves and gives bright abundant days. So I began to try and write songs of praise but it was like squeezing juice out of a used up lemon. I got a couple drops here and there but could never find enough to make my sweet lemonade just bitter and sour writing.
Eventually my thoughts saw less and less pen and paper. The whole notion seemed childish and dramatic because my pieces always held a certain amount of melodrama. It also lacked approval from certain people, approval I craved so much; so, eventually I showed it to no one. The voice in my writing became a wallflower, quiet and unnoticeable to both its viewers and its creator.
However, with God, my writing always took center stage. Believe me or don't but he brought it up in a prophecy that had been spoken over me. Two people who knew absolutely nothing about me and most certainly knew nothing of my poetry because I wasn't writing too much at the time. They asked me, "do you write poetry," in my mind I thought, sure if you could even call it that. I had little faith in words that I wrote and the word poetry sounded far too beautiful a word to label my own. Anyways, I said yes with a tone of confusion because it was very random question and of little importance considering all the things they could have said about my life. "He loves your poetry and He wants you to keep writing." I didn't really know whether to take it seriously or not....MY writing?!
Needless to say, I've tried my best to keep my writing alive for the One who loves it so much. Some years have been better than others. Most of the time I feel it's just my analytical, imaginative, hopeless-romantic, melancholy mind, babbling like a crazy lady in a psych ward.(see what I mean) Haha! But it sets me free.
Free from heart break. Free from impatience. Free from my inadequacy to save the world. Free from stress and emotions that threaten to choke me up. Sets me free from lies told to me in secret that day. However, over the years it's allowed me to tell of a Love that's unmatchable to any other and writing about it sets my heart free, instead of keeping it locked away. Even if it is cheesy or ridiculous sounding. To me, this Love, (and I am not alone) it's real and paper helps me to never forget that. So I'll step out and put up a few pieces I've written, even the ones I wrote in middle school. No fear. No cares if you approve or not. Writing helps me to find my voice. And maybe it'd help you find yours too. But more importantly, when I write, I find Him.
I think about history and how the world was forever changed at the dawn of language and again when the age of putting life in the form of characters in dirt, tablets, or any other material they could keep record of life on. This continued so on and so forth as technology advanced and we print news and record tragic and marvelous events. People wrote because they knew today or someday somebody would read it and that it would have purpose.
Some may think that writing is over rated. That it holds no cure for their own personal pain or even for the worlds. I read articles about the thousands killed in places like Syria and a journalists plea for the world to take action. I hear song lyrics that speak of moments so trapped inside an artist that the only way to release it's claim on their soul is to write it for the world to hear. We write to share the burden of a problem or to release erupting joy. I think of how some will silence the voice. Others will allow it to stay with them for a time because it relates to their own memories and present moment. Still, to many others it inspires movements or change and it heals or allows walls to be broken.
The permanence of print somehow allows these horrible and/or magnificent events in the world at large or from within ourselves to become real or tangible, making it easier to grasp. The memory or moment can no longer haunt us but we can look at it again, face to face, and defeat it or remember it in times of need. Even if the print were destroyed or burned, the story would forever be told, giving it the ability to change the present and/or future. Somehow writing it all out, emancipates us to be vulnerable and raw, and it sets within us power that threatened to leave us just moments ago. It reveals a Presence we never thought we'd find or get back.
I wrote poetry all through high school. Throughout this time I was very depressed and so naturally, my writing was dark. It held anger, pain and fear. I actually felt guilty because I was negative. I didn't see rainbows or roses, I saw dark clouds and storms. That all seemed to counter my beliefs of a God who saves and gives bright abundant days. So I began to try and write songs of praise but it was like squeezing juice out of a used up lemon. I got a couple drops here and there but could never find enough to make my sweet lemonade just bitter and sour writing.
Eventually my thoughts saw less and less pen and paper. The whole notion seemed childish and dramatic because my pieces always held a certain amount of melodrama. It also lacked approval from certain people, approval I craved so much; so, eventually I showed it to no one. The voice in my writing became a wallflower, quiet and unnoticeable to both its viewers and its creator.
However, with God, my writing always took center stage. Believe me or don't but he brought it up in a prophecy that had been spoken over me. Two people who knew absolutely nothing about me and most certainly knew nothing of my poetry because I wasn't writing too much at the time. They asked me, "do you write poetry," in my mind I thought, sure if you could even call it that. I had little faith in words that I wrote and the word poetry sounded far too beautiful a word to label my own. Anyways, I said yes with a tone of confusion because it was very random question and of little importance considering all the things they could have said about my life. "He loves your poetry and He wants you to keep writing." I didn't really know whether to take it seriously or not....MY writing?!
Needless to say, I've tried my best to keep my writing alive for the One who loves it so much. Some years have been better than others. Most of the time I feel it's just my analytical, imaginative, hopeless-romantic, melancholy mind, babbling like a crazy lady in a psych ward.(see what I mean) Haha! But it sets me free.
Free from heart break. Free from impatience. Free from my inadequacy to save the world. Free from stress and emotions that threaten to choke me up. Sets me free from lies told to me in secret that day. However, over the years it's allowed me to tell of a Love that's unmatchable to any other and writing about it sets my heart free, instead of keeping it locked away. Even if it is cheesy or ridiculous sounding. To me, this Love, (and I am not alone) it's real and paper helps me to never forget that. So I'll step out and put up a few pieces I've written, even the ones I wrote in middle school. No fear. No cares if you approve or not. Writing helps me to find my voice. And maybe it'd help you find yours too. But more importantly, when I write, I find Him.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
I Dream of Favelas
I am an emotional mess. They get the best of me. But over time I've learned to love my emotions, especially when I give them to God and I share them because they lead my train of thinking deeper into Him and His vision. My night began with me crying out to God about a dream lost and God lead me to a dream yet,but about to be, found. A dream I had cried over before and had therefore I resolved myself to wait in patience until the time would come that this dream for traveling to beautiful places would become real.
I am praying about going to Brazil this summer for 3 months. I have contacted a group in Fortaleza. Although I have felt at peace to join this group for about a week now, I asked God why, why this group?
I have never been to Fortaleza or learned much about it. I don't know if it's anything compared to its rival cities, Rio de Janiero or Sao Paulo. I've dreamt about these places for the last year but not just the cities themselves, in all their grandeur and tropical prestige that line the blue oceans where the wealthy flock. I dream of their majestic and rebellious favelas.
What a vision to see these shanty towns in all their colors,shapes, and sizes, stacked one on top of the other. It's as if I were to explore a real life masterpiece; a poor man's Sistine Chapel, made up of cardboard boxes and scraps of metal, that serve as a refuge and a resting place for the weary. Built with hands that didn't understand how to construct a home in the first place but now it's where family is raised and dramas unfold. I've created these slums into somewhat of a dysfunctional fairytale in my mind. Where culture is born, music fills the beat of the day, children play hide and seek around corners and in stray allies and where today is all one gets. Today---a challenge I have yet to accomplish in a future driven country. Not only do I believe these communities to be majestic but I find favelas comical. In my vision (of future me in Brazil), I look up and see a tangle of telephone and internet lines running through the skies connecting one shack to another. Each line is pulled from here and there and you don't know where they begin and where they end; like traffic in a great city that runs a muck yet somehow, some way, information and connections get to where they were going. I try my best to be as resourceful as I can and so I applaud such a trait, even if it is illegal.
A favela's beauty was born from the mess, holding people who own little to nothing. Whom struggle to be functional human beings in a society that makes the odds against them quite substantial, even dangerous, yet they wake up and seize the day with an energy very unique to these regions and the people within.
My heart for them, is to show them that they don't have to survive. That in no way am I glorifying their conditions or saying their life is easy because it's most definitely not. I long to see them have some of the same opportunities that I had growing up. To see them be able to read a book or a story; I want to see their eyes light up and feel their hearts race when they've finished a tale that mirrors their own. The opportunity to develop their leadership, that only they can provide for this world that so desperately needs it. For children who need more laughter because you can never have too much and God knows that I long to laugh with them. To show them that the world is at their fingertips because Christ made that possible on Calvary hill, in a city thousands of miles away from them. To reveal that sacred moment of sacrifice and love that seeks to capture them and save their lives eternally. To know that I can do none of this if I don't show them honest, pure Love, is such a sweet challenge I wish to adhere too. If that means holding uncleaned bodies, kissing muddy faces and holding broken hands, than I couldn't ask for anything better to do with my time.
I'm a junky for broken. Not so I can fix them but so I can walk with them. I know that God is near to the broken and his glory comes in their redemption. I come from broken and I wouldn't ever change that because God's ruined my life for love through it all.
Nevertheless, I leave you with an unfinished thought because I don't know Brazil or its people. Not intimately at least. I know the land by books, others experiences and through my own daydreams. One day this country will be tangible to me and then I'll let you in on a dream come true. Until then I pray one thing for not only these people but for a world that I am so terribly fascinated by...
When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Holy Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.
Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.
-Ephesians 3
I am praying about going to Brazil this summer for 3 months. I have contacted a group in Fortaleza. Although I have felt at peace to join this group for about a week now, I asked God why, why this group?
I have never been to Fortaleza or learned much about it. I don't know if it's anything compared to its rival cities, Rio de Janiero or Sao Paulo. I've dreamt about these places for the last year but not just the cities themselves, in all their grandeur and tropical prestige that line the blue oceans where the wealthy flock. I dream of their majestic and rebellious favelas.
A favela's beauty was born from the mess, holding people who own little to nothing. Whom struggle to be functional human beings in a society that makes the odds against them quite substantial, even dangerous, yet they wake up and seize the day with an energy very unique to these regions and the people within.
My heart for them, is to show them that they don't have to survive. That in no way am I glorifying their conditions or saying their life is easy because it's most definitely not. I long to see them have some of the same opportunities that I had growing up. To see them be able to read a book or a story; I want to see their eyes light up and feel their hearts race when they've finished a tale that mirrors their own. The opportunity to develop their leadership, that only they can provide for this world that so desperately needs it. For children who need more laughter because you can never have too much and God knows that I long to laugh with them. To show them that the world is at their fingertips because Christ made that possible on Calvary hill, in a city thousands of miles away from them. To reveal that sacred moment of sacrifice and love that seeks to capture them and save their lives eternally. To know that I can do none of this if I don't show them honest, pure Love, is such a sweet challenge I wish to adhere too. If that means holding uncleaned bodies, kissing muddy faces and holding broken hands, than I couldn't ask for anything better to do with my time.
Nevertheless, I leave you with an unfinished thought because I don't know Brazil or its people. Not intimately at least. I know the land by books, others experiences and through my own daydreams. One day this country will be tangible to me and then I'll let you in on a dream come true. Until then I pray one thing for not only these people but for a world that I am so terribly fascinated by...
When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Holy Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.
Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.
-Ephesians 3
Waste Exploitation (Pick a Cause)
This summer I was taking a sociology class at the University of Oklahoma. The focus is race/ethnic minorities in America. Some of the articles that I have read have completely opened my eyes to how much we are still very prejudiced in America. It happens in very subtle ways, from personal prejudice all the way to global exploitation of developing countries. The article that I have recently read is by Robert D. Bullard called "Environmental Justice in the 21st Century: Race Still Matters". In this article Robert talks about the environment and how it greatly correlates with race. This is called, institutional racism, which describes any system of inequality based on race. The institution that this article focuses on is housing and waste. I will give you a few facts on the inequality housing and environments that race minorities such as Hispanic and African Americans experience in America. This information was collected by The Commission for Racial Justice's landmark Toxic Waste and Race study.
"(1) Three out of five African American's live in communities with abandoned toxic waste sites; (2) sixty percent of African Americans (15 million) live in communities with abandoned toxic waste sites; (3) three of the five largest commercial hazardous waste landfills are located in predominantly African American or Latino communities and accounts for 40 percent of the nation's total estimated landfill capacity; and (4) African Americas are heavily overrepresented in the population of cities with the largest number of abandoned toxic waste sites, which include Memphis, St. Louis, Houston, Cleveland, Chicago and Atlanta" (Bullard 190).
Is it a coincidence, that these two races live in high populations near dump sites? Actually no it's not. According to Bullard, environmental racism is a very real thing that is supported by all levels of authority in the United States. "Environmental racism is reinforced by government legal, economic, political, and military institutions"(Bullard 190). In another article I read by Douglas S. Massey, he speaks about residential segregation and how ethnic minorities are more likely to be given the run around when it comes to purchasing a home within White communities that tend to have better housing. A few examples are being told that a house has just been sold or rented, when in fact it hasn't; shown houses in predominately black or mixed areas, away from White neighborhoods; they may be quoted higher rent or selling prices than Whites; their phone number may be taken but no one ever calls them; they may have been treated discourteously or brusquely in hopes that they will not return. Whatever the reason, and their are many more. It leads blacks to poorer quality of housing near dump sites that have strategically placed themselves near ethnically mixed or minority communities. These dump sites have caused higher health problems in African-Americans compared to Whites, "In 1988, the Federal Agency for Toxic Substances Disease REgistry found that for families earning less than $6,00, 68 percent of African-America children had lead poisoning compared to 36 percent of white children" (Bullard 192). Asthma is another leading health problem in children of race, " The annual age-adjusted death rate from asthma increased
On a global level I was even more appalled at what I read in the article by Bullard. Bullard quotes a memorandum by Lawrence Summers, chief economist of the World Ban in 1991, that leaked and turned to an international scandal after Summer's wrote, " Dirty' Industries: Just between you and me, shouldn't the World Bank be encouraging MORE migration of dirty industries to the LDC's (least developed countires)" (Bullard 193). Shipping waste from rich communities has been the solution in many cases.
My question is, who has turned a blind and prevented such methods from being illegal? Who do we hold responsible for letting this happen to nations that struggle day in and day out to get on their feet? The Basel Ban Amendment is an agreement by most countries in Europe not to export waste to developing countries, and agreement that America has not signed. The Electronic Takes Back Coalition, has a Q and A report that gives many answers on exporting in relation to laws and government that you can find at this website, http://www.electronicstakeback.com/wp-content/uploads/Q_and_A_on_Exporting_Issues. It gives account of Chinese and African cheap labor and communities that experience severe health risks and exploitation because of wast exportation.
It is disheartening to know that this is happening to people in our country and all across the globe. Especially in a nation that prides itself on equal treatment to all people. Where the American dream is a notion that only a select few are able to obtain. So wherever you find yourself in the world, it's important to choose a cause that hits your heart and compels you into action, big and/or small. Many of us do not follow the tug at our hearts that says "something should be done about this." It is life-giving to serve the weak and helpless, to pursue justice for those whose voice has been silenced. As a college student who is about to graduate in a year and be released into the real world, with knowledge and passion that I have been blessed with, I am looking for that cause. Serving others is essential to our emotional, mental and spiritual well-being. I dare you to begin with serving someone in need (at home, work, school, etc) for a month or longer; to put aside your needs and wants for the cause of others and experience a joy and love that's not found among fame, riches or success.
Sources
Image 1: Recent findings by EJRC indicate that minority communities are receiving most of the landfill-directed waste oil from the BP Oil disaster.
http://environmentaljusticeblog.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html
Image 2: A Dutch multinational company, Trafigura, dumped about 500 tons of waste, and it lead to at least 16 deaths and more than 100,000 other victims needing medical treatment.
http://www.enviroblog.org/2008/08/taking-advantage-of-the-disadvantaged.html
Image 3: March 8, 2005 Guiyu, Guangdong, China. A child sitting on a pile of wires and electronic waste. Photo by Greenpeace/Natalie Behing
http://elawspotlight.wordpress.com/tag/e-waste/
"(1) Three out of five African American's live in communities with abandoned toxic waste sites; (2) sixty percent of African Americans (15 million) live in communities with abandoned toxic waste sites; (3) three of the five largest commercial hazardous waste landfills are located in predominantly African American or Latino communities and accounts for 40 percent of the nation's total estimated landfill capacity; and (4) African Americas are heavily overrepresented in the population of cities with the largest number of abandoned toxic waste sites, which include Memphis, St. Louis, Houston, Cleveland, Chicago and Atlanta" (Bullard 190).
Is it a coincidence, that these two races live in high populations near dump sites? Actually no it's not. According to Bullard, environmental racism is a very real thing that is supported by all levels of authority in the United States. "Environmental racism is reinforced by government legal, economic, political, and military institutions"(Bullard 190). In another article I read by Douglas S. Massey, he speaks about residential segregation and how ethnic minorities are more likely to be given the run around when it comes to purchasing a home within White communities that tend to have better housing. A few examples are being told that a house has just been sold or rented, when in fact it hasn't; shown houses in predominately black or mixed areas, away from White neighborhoods; they may be quoted higher rent or selling prices than Whites; their phone number may be taken but no one ever calls them; they may have been treated discourteously or brusquely in hopes that they will not return. Whatever the reason, and their are many more. It leads blacks to poorer quality of housing near dump sites that have strategically placed themselves near ethnically mixed or minority communities. These dump sites have caused higher health problems in African-Americans compared to Whites, "In 1988, the Federal Agency for Toxic Substances Disease REgistry found that for families earning less than $6,00, 68 percent of African-America children had lead poisoning compared to 36 percent of white children" (Bullard 192). Asthma is another leading health problem in children of race, " The annual age-adjusted death rate from asthma increased
On a global level I was even more appalled at what I read in the article by Bullard. Bullard quotes a memorandum by Lawrence Summers, chief economist of the World Ban in 1991, that leaked and turned to an international scandal after Summer's wrote, " Dirty' Industries: Just between you and me, shouldn't the World Bank be encouraging MORE migration of dirty industries to the LDC's (least developed countires)" (Bullard 193). Shipping waste from rich communities has been the solution in many cases.
My question is, who has turned a blind and prevented such methods from being illegal? Who do we hold responsible for letting this happen to nations that struggle day in and day out to get on their feet? The Basel Ban Amendment is an agreement by most countries in Europe not to export waste to developing countries, and agreement that America has not signed. The Electronic Takes Back Coalition, has a Q and A report that gives many answers on exporting in relation to laws and government that you can find at this website, http://www.electronicstakeback.com/wp-content/uploads/Q_and_A_on_Exporting_Issues. It gives account of Chinese and African cheap labor and communities that experience severe health risks and exploitation because of wast exportation.
It is disheartening to know that this is happening to people in our country and all across the globe. Especially in a nation that prides itself on equal treatment to all people. Where the American dream is a notion that only a select few are able to obtain. So wherever you find yourself in the world, it's important to choose a cause that hits your heart and compels you into action, big and/or small. Many of us do not follow the tug at our hearts that says "something should be done about this." It is life-giving to serve the weak and helpless, to pursue justice for those whose voice has been silenced. As a college student who is about to graduate in a year and be released into the real world, with knowledge and passion that I have been blessed with, I am looking for that cause. Serving others is essential to our emotional, mental and spiritual well-being. I dare you to begin with serving someone in need (at home, work, school, etc) for a month or longer; to put aside your needs and wants for the cause of others and experience a joy and love that's not found among fame, riches or success.Sources
Image 1: Recent findings by EJRC indicate that minority communities are receiving most of the landfill-directed waste oil from the BP Oil disaster.
http://environmentaljusticeblog.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html
Image 2: A Dutch multinational company, Trafigura, dumped about 500 tons of waste, and it lead to at least 16 deaths and more than 100,000 other victims needing medical treatment.
http://www.enviroblog.org/2008/08/taking-advantage-of-the-disadvantaged.html
Image 3: March 8, 2005 Guiyu, Guangdong, China. A child sitting on a pile of wires and electronic waste. Photo by Greenpeace/Natalie Behing
http://elawspotlight.wordpress.com/tag/e-waste/
Bullard, Robert D. "Environmental Justice in the 21st
Century: Race Still Matters." Rethinking the Color
Line. 5th ed.
New York: McGraw-Hill, 2012. 184-94. Print.
Massey,
Doulas S. "Residential Segregation and Neighbordooh Conditions in U.S.
Metropolitian Areas.
"Rethinking the Color Line. 5th ed. New
York: McGraw-Hill, 2012. 158-75. Print. Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Love: A Cloud of Smoke that Descended Upon the Mountain
I normally don't write about love or relationships. It's very vulnerable place and if you know me at all that's not an easy thing for me. In this world we see different images of love from the moment we (as women, maybe men) watch our first Disney princess movie to trademark movies like the Notebook and the Titanic of undying love or love that takes a life because the heart can't go on without it. It is all very romantic and speaks directly to my daydreaming heart. Realistically these images are not what love is and I'm okay with that.
Love in REAL life, for me, has always been seen as fleeting and fickle. However, in 2012 God made plans to give me a glimpse of what His true love looks like. This revelation, though marvelous and breath-taking was something I didn't understand and it scared me.
America is plagued with divorce. People get married because the feeling of being in love guides them to essentially jump off of a cliff and they eventually find that love had fooled them into a fall of faith that never ends. So they pull the parachute and abandon the journey down because feelings no longer guide them. Until we understand that love is a verb, that is active horizontally first and then vertically, love will continue to be fickle and fleeting.
I grew up watching a broken marriage. I saw nothing else. I know I am not alone, I know there are many of us, sadly. Until recently I marked myself as a victim of such a marriage. I moved away about four years ago, so I was physically far from it and I could no longer see the affects of it except every 6 months or so for 2 weeks. However, because I kept the mentality of a victim to my parents marriage it continued to hold its grip on my life and in my relationships. Some part of me knew this but I never stayed with a boy long enough to change anything or to recognize how large this fear was in my life.
Until that relationship did come.
I get this picture of God wincing His eyebrow as he could already feel the frustration, hurt and anger that was to come as He was about to refine me in the fire. Then I see this wince break into a warm glow and a gentle smile as He also saw the end result, something I have yet to fully see.
I dated for 10 months and it was packed full of emotions of happiness and confusion, on my part. I was with a patient and loving man who was being used as an instrument of God to help me understand love. I am so very lucky :).In this relationship I believe I was loved unconditionally, however I didn't recognize this love very much, just a few minutes at a time and then logic of what I had always known cast its shadow over this beautiful Love. Every time this Love would show its face so would God because true Love (whether in a relationship, friendship or in family) doesn't present itself without Him. He would remind me how infinitely more He loved me than this imperfect boy did and it was not something I could fathom. It's as if I stood at the base of the Mount Sinai looking upon a great cloud of smoke, knowing the Lord was near and fearing that if I were to cross over I would surely be destroyed (Exodus 19). Instead I trembled.God had revealed something about Himself I had never seen but that every follower of Christ gets a revelation of time and time again. His love.
This relationship I was in, was actually a picture of my relationship with Him. To begin, I doubt God's love constantly. I fear my actions may distance Him from me or cause Him to turn his face away in shame as he looks at me and the sins I fall into. I have trouble trusting God because walking with Him is painful at times and I often allow myself to think that He's playing a game with me instead of recognizing His goodness and trusting in His sovereignty. I want a relationship with Him in which I have control of the present and the future. Even admitting to all this unbelief is so hard, I feel like a disciple who has walked with Him for many years, knows His voice, His truth and yet I still ask Him, who are you? Are you the King that I have been waiting for? Are you the God I can trust?
It also mirrored my relationship with God because I loved every second of being in it despite my precautions. Through the good and the bad, my heart beat a little faster in it. I also knew I was with my best friend who made me laugh, who listened to me, rejoiced with me, comforted me and allowed me the freedom to do the same in my own quirky ways. I was with someone who sought me out everyday to say hello with inviting charm that wrapped my whole day in love, if I allowed it.
It did not mirror my relationship, in that no person can carry another person's world, not like God can. No person is responsible for delivering a person from fear that took root long before they came together. No person can fill my neediness; only God's hands were made to hold my neediness, no matter how big or small those needs are. A person can keep me safe to a degree but He's my only refuge in times of trouble, especially when I don't understand the fear and the frustration. It is also true that one may be able to share the burden but He is the only One who can bear the whole burden of my life and many others. He works with me and for me and causes me to understand it so that it changes me. That's how it's different. No matter who I'm with they don't hold these things, He does.
Now, I am not saying I'm all better or that I have it all figured out because I am not and I don't. God saw a girl frozen with fear even when the relationship had given her no reason to fear and His heart broke. He took action because He believed that all His children deserve relationships without fear because perfect love casts out all fear. So now, He's answering and walking me through the questions that no one else could answer about my fear and in time I will shed these scales.
Love has broken me and I imagine it will again. You see, I'm learning that you cannot love without taking the risk of being broken. Whether it's a relationship that's for forever or that's for a season you'll be broken again and again. I forget that God is full of sweet paradox's. We think that love is somehow supposed to make everything come together and that it will keep us safe, with Him it does but it's also very dangerous. It asks us to lay our lives down on the line and to risk it all. Only in this weakness can He become our everlasting strength. Only in this brokenness can we learn to love even more! God is a risky God, He doesn't EVER do things that scream comfort. This reminds me that yes, my heart aches but it only awaits its promise. And although at this time it wasn't a magnificent boy, I know that the promise that is slowly revealing itself everyday that I put my trust in Him is going to be far greater than I could ever imagine.
Most importantly I have to remember the first love story that I was apart of and it started long before the earth was created. My life is about a love story between my Creator and I. Everything else has just been a gift.
1 John 4:7-12
7 Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. 8 Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 9 This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. 10 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11 Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 12 No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.
Love in REAL life, for me, has always been seen as fleeting and fickle. However, in 2012 God made plans to give me a glimpse of what His true love looks like. This revelation, though marvelous and breath-taking was something I didn't understand and it scared me.
America is plagued with divorce. People get married because the feeling of being in love guides them to essentially jump off of a cliff and they eventually find that love had fooled them into a fall of faith that never ends. So they pull the parachute and abandon the journey down because feelings no longer guide them. Until we understand that love is a verb, that is active horizontally first and then vertically, love will continue to be fickle and fleeting.
I grew up watching a broken marriage. I saw nothing else. I know I am not alone, I know there are many of us, sadly. Until recently I marked myself as a victim of such a marriage. I moved away about four years ago, so I was physically far from it and I could no longer see the affects of it except every 6 months or so for 2 weeks. However, because I kept the mentality of a victim to my parents marriage it continued to hold its grip on my life and in my relationships. Some part of me knew this but I never stayed with a boy long enough to change anything or to recognize how large this fear was in my life.
Until that relationship did come.
I get this picture of God wincing His eyebrow as he could already feel the frustration, hurt and anger that was to come as He was about to refine me in the fire. Then I see this wince break into a warm glow and a gentle smile as He also saw the end result, something I have yet to fully see.
I dated for 10 months and it was packed full of emotions of happiness and confusion, on my part. I was with a patient and loving man who was being used as an instrument of God to help me understand love. I am so very lucky :).In this relationship I believe I was loved unconditionally, however I didn't recognize this love very much, just a few minutes at a time and then logic of what I had always known cast its shadow over this beautiful Love. Every time this Love would show its face so would God because true Love (whether in a relationship, friendship or in family) doesn't present itself without Him. He would remind me how infinitely more He loved me than this imperfect boy did and it was not something I could fathom. It's as if I stood at the base of the Mount Sinai looking upon a great cloud of smoke, knowing the Lord was near and fearing that if I were to cross over I would surely be destroyed (Exodus 19). Instead I trembled.God had revealed something about Himself I had never seen but that every follower of Christ gets a revelation of time and time again. His love.
This relationship I was in, was actually a picture of my relationship with Him. To begin, I doubt God's love constantly. I fear my actions may distance Him from me or cause Him to turn his face away in shame as he looks at me and the sins I fall into. I have trouble trusting God because walking with Him is painful at times and I often allow myself to think that He's playing a game with me instead of recognizing His goodness and trusting in His sovereignty. I want a relationship with Him in which I have control of the present and the future. Even admitting to all this unbelief is so hard, I feel like a disciple who has walked with Him for many years, knows His voice, His truth and yet I still ask Him, who are you? Are you the King that I have been waiting for? Are you the God I can trust?
It also mirrored my relationship with God because I loved every second of being in it despite my precautions. Through the good and the bad, my heart beat a little faster in it. I also knew I was with my best friend who made me laugh, who listened to me, rejoiced with me, comforted me and allowed me the freedom to do the same in my own quirky ways. I was with someone who sought me out everyday to say hello with inviting charm that wrapped my whole day in love, if I allowed it.
It did not mirror my relationship, in that no person can carry another person's world, not like God can. No person is responsible for delivering a person from fear that took root long before they came together. No person can fill my neediness; only God's hands were made to hold my neediness, no matter how big or small those needs are. A person can keep me safe to a degree but He's my only refuge in times of trouble, especially when I don't understand the fear and the frustration. It is also true that one may be able to share the burden but He is the only One who can bear the whole burden of my life and many others. He works with me and for me and causes me to understand it so that it changes me. That's how it's different. No matter who I'm with they don't hold these things, He does.
Now, I am not saying I'm all better or that I have it all figured out because I am not and I don't. God saw a girl frozen with fear even when the relationship had given her no reason to fear and His heart broke. He took action because He believed that all His children deserve relationships without fear because perfect love casts out all fear. So now, He's answering and walking me through the questions that no one else could answer about my fear and in time I will shed these scales.
Love has broken me and I imagine it will again. You see, I'm learning that you cannot love without taking the risk of being broken. Whether it's a relationship that's for forever or that's for a season you'll be broken again and again. I forget that God is full of sweet paradox's. We think that love is somehow supposed to make everything come together and that it will keep us safe, with Him it does but it's also very dangerous. It asks us to lay our lives down on the line and to risk it all. Only in this weakness can He become our everlasting strength. Only in this brokenness can we learn to love even more! God is a risky God, He doesn't EVER do things that scream comfort. This reminds me that yes, my heart aches but it only awaits its promise. And although at this time it wasn't a magnificent boy, I know that the promise that is slowly revealing itself everyday that I put my trust in Him is going to be far greater than I could ever imagine.
Most importantly I have to remember the first love story that I was apart of and it started long before the earth was created. My life is about a love story between my Creator and I. Everything else has just been a gift.
1 John 4:7-12
7 Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. 8 Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 9 This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. 10 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11 Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 12 No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.
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