Consider a Jealous God

My heart cries out for more today. It screams for something deeper; something more vivid and alive. Something that I can grasp onto and hold, take it in as if it's my very own breath that I'm embracing. Something--no, Someone--that will hold me and keep me and birth in me a wild and abundant and lovely passion and burning for life.

I have been home in Washington for five weeks now. I left YWAM Destination Paradise in Belize five weeks ago with a heavy and faltering heart. I left with an angry and despairing and hurting spirit. I left with a sense of bitterness and frustration; towards others, but mostly focused towards myself.

I was reading in Hebrews 12 a few days ago and verse 3 kept playing over and over in my mind.

"For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, 

lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls."

When I left DP, I was weary, discouraged. I hadn't been considering God and His passions and heart for me, and I fell into a state of thinking that was so inwardly focused that I couldn't see what He was speaking over me. Since being home, I have found that peace again. I have found the rest in Him that I have so desperately been craving, discovered once more the excitement and intimacy with my Father. He has been speaking into me life and color, breathing into my weary soul and reviving the joy within that is so natural for me. My heart is still in a process of healing, of finding a place where I can communicate healthily with those whom I have hurt and who have hurt me, but within this process I am learning to focus on God's peace and humble myself before Him daily, hourly, in every moment, because according to Deuteronomy 4:24;

"...the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God."

and

"Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken,
let us be thankful, and so worship God with reverence and awe,
for our God is a consuming fire." (Hebrews 12:28-29)

My God is a jealous God. He is a God thirsty for my love, hungering to get to know me better and craving my company. Who am I to deny Him His glory? It was foolish of me to step into sin and convince myself that He wasn't watching, that I could repent later. It would be foolish for me to run from that. Instead, I'm walking into His presence with a sense of utter peace and joy, because His grace and His love is bigger and more passionate than I could ever imagine. He is reining me in and teaching and growing and stretching me, and as this happens His restoration and His will for me encompasses me and burns in my heart; calling me and prodding me ever towards His feet, towards the throne, towards His beauty.

Eruption.

I forget that this life is temporary. I settle into patterns and thought-processes and embed in myself a desire and a drive that line up with the idea that this moment in time is all that there is...that my actions and thoughts and words won't affect people. That I can do or say or think anything I want and it won't go further than me and my mind and my immediate surroundings.

How wrong I am to assume. I've been living out this pattern of supposition for the past six months, and am barely on the brink of realizing what it means to push outside of myself in certain areas. This month has been wild. It's been full of frustration, of confusion, of freedoms and of revelations. One of the joys (and curses) of living in community is that most of your life is on display for all to see. And when you mess up--when you make a wrong decision or aren't careful about guarding your heart and mind--everyone knows. It's equivalent to standing center-stage at a concert and knowing that every eye is on you, knowing that if you miss a single note while singing or hit the wrong chord, someone will always know. There are no secrets when you're standing center stage.

I recently made some poor decisions within the relationships that I've built, and I haven't realized until this past week just how badly those decisions affected the entire community. My actions and decisions hurt those around me, especially the girls within my small group and the women within the staff. I broke the trust that had been built between us and I refused to acknowledge it. I lied to myself, convinced myself that I wasn't hurting anyone, justified my actions by telling myself that I was following my heart. None of those lies held, however. The mitigation of my actions within my own mind deteriorated as I looked into the eyes of those that I've hurt, heard their words as they expressed their frustration and anger, felt their pain radiating from them as they asked the tortured questions; "Why was I not good enough for you?" 

I can't undo what's happened. I can't take back the ache that I've caused in the lives of those around me. I can't take away from the fact that I did mess up. I won't minimize the pain of the circumstances; my own heart has been broken throughout this process. We had a meeting involving the entire staff and student body last week, and I had the opportunity to own my shit in front of everyone. I splayed myself out and took the fall that I knew had been coming, and as I looked around the room, I felt a shattering inside of me. Out of 30+ people, I could count on one hand those who would look me in the eye. I felt the anger and betrayal emanating within the room and the walls within my own heart crumbled. I will not deny my actions, but I can and will be proactive with where I presently am. I will walk forward and continue to move, continue to be open and vulnerable, making a conscious effort every day to be one hundred percent authentic in my words and actions as I converse with others. I will choose to walk in light when I've been walking in darkness. I will choose to be filled with integrity and an honesty that transcends that which I have been walking in.

Relationships are building again, trust is being reconstructed, and I find myself being able to truly smile within the past few days. Joy is something that I have to embrace daily, but the beauty of this entire situation is that it's a story of redemption. It's a story of the fascinating and wonderful and breathtakingly passionate love that my Father has for me and for those wrapped up in this.

I'm still processing and will continue to process and write, because this is just the beginning of the journey, and He is just furthering His work to perfect me. I will take heart in the fact that He has overcome the world (John 16:33) and that He will continue to refine me in the process. In everything, I will not forget that He has been broken so that I may be shaped into some creature of beauty and wholeness. I choose to embrace Him and to walk forward in the freedom that He continues to so gracefully provide; head held high and proceeding humbly before Him.

I Have a Voice

There are nights when I sit on the dock and look out into the deep black that is the ocean in front of me, wondering why in the world I have been called to be here. I lean against the pole of the palapa roof that is hovering over my head, breathing the salt-and-wind laced air that is my constant companion.

I don't feel inadequate here; I can honestly say that that isn't what makes me question. I love what I do, I love the leadership role that I am in. I love being immersed in a culture that revolves around the Father from whom we all came. I wouldn't do any of this differently. Maybe 'why' isn't necessarily the correct question; rather, how? How am I equipped to continue to live here? How am I going to fulfill the calling that I know has been placed on my life? I have been called to inspire; to reach the college-age generation and to speak life and meaning and purpose over them. To call the youth of this world up into leadership, into a life-bringing people whose energy spills from them, engulfing those around and reaching to the depths of the souls that are hurting and crying out for freedom. I am called to protect and feed the weak, to encourage and challenge and push the strong, to call out the apathetic and to love on the hurting.

I am called to use my voice.

I had the incredible opportunity to teach one day of lectures here at YWAM Destination Paradise. I had 3 hours on January 17th to teach our students about leaving a legacy of integrity. However, you can't leave a legacy without knowing first who you are, without being secure in your identity. I taught on how to find your identity in Christ, about how to leave the baggage that we so easily and so harshly pack for ourselves and carry with us throughout our lives; those things that we are ashamed of and worried about and the things that we feel make us "dirty" or "unlovable" or "slutty" or a "jackass". Those things that we haul around that label us "unworthy", "abusive", "selfish", "stupid". These are things we are called to drop; to abandon and to leave behind us as we step into a new identity: an identity reflecting Isaiah 62.

I spent three hours speaking life into these students, praying over them and seeking God for truths and freedom to speak into their lives. I knew as soon as I stepped up in front of the students that this was where I wanted to be; in front of young adults, speaking life and love and freedom and healing over them. I am called to fulfill Isaiah 61; calling healing into people's lives and freeing the captives from their hurt and the chains that have so easily entangled them in the past.

Teaching is something that I know will be a part of my future with YWAM, whether it's just here at DP, or I might decide to develop my own teaching week. We'll see what God has for me. So far, this school has been wonderful; it's been challenging in it's own way, but I can see God moving so freely and so beautifully in the lives of everyone on base here; staff and students alike.

This past week has been particularly challenging for me; I'm learning to walk further in the truths that God's speaking over me and am finding areas that still need healing from my past. It's a journey, and it always will be, but it is so worth it to walk this out in a community of people that I know are fighting for me, with a God who I know has my back. He is continuing to blow my mind and is ever shaping me into a beautiful creature in Him.

I'm walking forth into further freedom, leaving behind the lies and the areas that I have been caught up in, claiming His life and love over myself.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set you free; stand fast, therefore, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." -Galatians 5:1

Spinning.

Some days, my life takes a turn and suddenly, I'm staring down a road that I don't recognize. I'm left gazing down a dusty path that seems too harsh, or too uncomfortable, or too unfamiliar for me to travel down. And so I sit down, and I wait. For what? I'm not sure. Maybe I wait for a car to come along, so I can ride along the dusty path in comfort, letting the air conditioning and the radio carry me along. Maybe it's a truck that I'm waiting for, then I'll get to my destination faster, even if I am riding on a bumpy road in the back of a truck. I'll get a little dirty, but hey! I get to the end quicker.

As I sit at the beginning of my own little road, I wonder if I'm waiting for another path to reveal itself, to open up, to conjure itself into being. And, as I sit staring down this existing road, I wonder. What am I really doing here?

I spend so much time waiting and waiting, wondering where my life is going to go and how I'm going to get to my destination, what I'm going to eat or do on the way there... where I'm doing to live, work, and who I'm going to meet. I waste my time daydreaming about how my life will be, hoping something comes along that will sweep me up and carry me towards the end of whatever I'm trying to accomplish faster.... when really, the answer to my pondering is staring right at me. All I have to do is take a step forward.

This is what my life looked like six months ago. I was in Africa, working with a team of 12 other YWAM students and leaders, visiting orphanages and picking up trash on streets around our home. I was doing street ministry on a daily basis, praying over people, performing skits, singing songs, preaching, giving my testimony. I was going to drug rehab programs and hanging out with people whose lives were just as messed up as mine--albeit in a different way. I was experiencing freedom through holding African children, tickling them, chasing them, making faces at them, rubbing their little backs during church while they slept, draped across my lap. 

Now I am home. I sleep, eat, hang out with my family, and look for work. I go to church, I wonder what is next. 

This past Saturday night, I received some major revelations from God, words of life were spoke over me and my eyes were opened to things that I had never before considered. And I had one incredible realization: 

I have given up on freedom. 

Wait, what? Ninety percent of my blog posts are about freedom, how could I have given up on it? I have been experiencing freedom to a degree since I have been home, but really... I have given up on it's true and pure form. Arriving home, I slowly let myself forget what it was like to wake up in the morning and give the day to God, and then really listen to Him throughout the day for direction. I forgot what it was like to drink water from the tap and open my fridge and have food in it, and stop and take a moment to thank Him for what I have when I know others have so little. I forgot what it was like to truly worship Him, with every aspect of my life, rather than just when I hear a good song that convicts me or moves me in my spirit. I forgot what He was like.

What am I really doing here? This is the question I have been asking myself for the past few days. Am I really, truly seeking my Father's face? Am I really, honestly wanting to grow closer? I think about spending time with Him a lot, but am I really willing to go there? 

And I find myself nodding. I thirst for Him more now that I ever have before, and I think that's because I know what He is like. I know His presence, and I know that I have been running from it. And so here I am. Wrecked, and vulnerable, and wanting Him so badly that I ache, because His presence and direction is so worth it to me. I am willing to go there, willing to bare myself to Him, willing to come out of hiding, because really... He is the only One who can bring me everything I need. Including true freedom.

"My dove in the clefts of the rock,

    in the hiding places on the mountainside,

show me your face,

    let me hear your voice;

for your voice is sweet,

    and your face is lovely."

Song of Songs 2:14 

Lilies. Wild. Joy. Me.

These are a ton of thoughts melded together... so bear with me. A lot of realization and such happens in the lines following!

I just had the overwhelming urge to laugh. For me, this is no surprise. I am constantly laughing, constantly finding even the simplest of things to be hilarious. But tonight, it's for a different reason... I had a realization. A re-realization, I suppose, since it's nothing new, just a thought that is deciding to revisit my brain again.
I have been called a new name by God! He gave me a new name (a few, actually) when He took my shame and pain and chains away from me, and I am just now realizing how incredibly FREE that makes me! (Yeah, I've talked about this before. But hang tight. Freedom isn't something that gets old. If anything, it gets better.)
 
He has called me JOY! I am free to laugh, free to burst into a new spasm of giggles whenever I want, because in Him I have gained the freedom to be joyful in every circumstance, the freedom to laugh like a fool, because I don't care if I am one. I absolutely love that I can be a fool for Him and still know that He loves me. He isn't embarrassed to be seen with me.
I see in my mind's eye a picture of a woman standing in the rain, jumping in puddles and laughing, her face tilted upwards as the raindrops pour over her creamy skin, washing away her makeup and her masks and every single bit of self-consciousness and insecurity. She is wearing a purple jacket, the color of royalty.
Jesus absolutely loves to dance in the rain with us. He absolutely loves the joy that seeps through my smile during those times that I sit with my friends and I just can't seem to contain my laughter, my grin breaks through and I can't help but giggle, while everyone shoots me glances that label me as crazy or weird.

He has called me Precious! Even on those nights where I curl up in my bed and cry, full of pain from past hurts. He sets people in my path daily that affirm that name, and no matter what, I can't get rid of them. He shows me my worth through His nature and His book. I'm His baby girl. And He hold me close as such.
 
He has called me Pure! My past doesn't matter! Whatever insecurities I had about myself and the things that I have experienced/done, those don't matter any more. They're gone. Left. Washed away by those tiny raindrops of grace that seem to constantly fall from His hands that are stretched out over me.


He has called me Wild! No matter what, my heart will not be tamed, and He adores that. He loves that I am His to hold and to carry wherever His wind will take me. I may be afraid to follow Him at times, but He knows that my spirit is strong and my passion for Him only stokes with time. He is the one who calls out the passion and strength in me, He alone is the reason for these things. His love for me is wild... as is mine for Him.

These are a few names He has given me... and they are precious to me. I want for His love and His glory to be evident through these characters in me. I want His passion to be stoked in me. He is worthy. And He has given me hope.