There You go Making my Heart Beat Again

My day has been consumed with Skype dates, writing music and doing dishes. I look out the window into the overcast fields and see rain throwing itself from the sky and exploding into a million pieces onto the ground, gracing the face of the earth with its watery freckles. My brother and I are singing country music and exchanging playful banter while we hang out and laugh together.

Basically, it's a typical day. Except for one thing. 

All day, God has been speaking His exquisite, colorful love over me. I have slipped into His presence and have been standing in it all day. He whispers little things to my spirit and my flesh breaks out in chills, my mind coursing and climbing and plummeting to new depths and heights, exploring the things He's revealing to me. His voice has been present all day.

Recently I've been having a number of revelations, which you can tell by reading my past posts. A few weeks ago I felt like I was underwater spiritually; gasping for Him to breathe His air into me while swimming away from the surface, sabotaging myself of the one thing I desired the most. 

Today I broke surface. I've been striving for it for a week and a half and finally, I made it.

My heart has begun to beat again.

He fills my lungs with His sweet breath and I inhale... savoring the scent of His presence. And this is just the beginning. If I keep looking toward Him, I will soon recover from my bout beneath the choppy waters, and I will learn to climb into a boat with Him. I will learn to sail with Him and to explore new territory, all the while looking to the sky, looking up, breathing in, exhaling the poison from my system and taking in the wind and the oxygen He's provided for me. 

He's showing me what it's like to be a burst of vibrant color amidst the thunderstorms that are thrown in my face. And the most exciting part? In Him, I can be unstoppable. And I can provide color. 

So really all I need to do is breathe, and climb in this boat, and unfurl the sails, and let Him be my heartbeat.

This is What it Looks Like to be Real Sometimes.

I'm so incredibly small.

Sometimes, I get frustrated because I can't eat what I want to eat. Sometimes I get frustrated that I live in a state that has rain 90% of the year. (Made that statistic up... but it's probably true.) Sometimes I get frustrated because I don't like my clothing. Today was one of those days.

I found myself in my room, standing helplessly in the middle of a pile of clothing, upset because I didn't want to wear any of it. I felt like my clothing was outdated, out of style, old. I felt like it didn't fit just how I wanted it to, or it didn't look as good as last time I wore it. 

And then I realized what I was doing. Honestly, how utterly sick is it that I stand in the middle of a warm, carpeted room with three windows, a bed, closets, mirrors, shoes, a couch, on the top floor of a rambling farm house, and I am upset about my clothing choice? I know people--I know children--whose clothing is ripped, and baggy, and fading, and literally falling off of their back. I know people whose only house is a couple of random pieces of wood set up together and placed against a concrete wall. I know people who have no place to sleep at night, except for the cold, hard ground under the trash on the side of the street. Yet here I am, standing in my room whining because I don't want to wear my striped shirt today, and I can't find clean socks. 

It saddens me to remember that before I fell in love with God I was a selfish and haughty, proud human being. What saddens me even more than that though, is that I have found myself slowly slipping back into that same cycle. 

The fact that "fitting in" or being "in style" concerns me even a little is almost a warning flag to me. It's not a bad thing to be stylish, or to be able to relate to people. However, I find myself questioning my motives when that is consuming me, and I know that I have gone too far when I step back and see that I am in a situation like the one I found myself in today... standing in the middle of a heap of blessings, and complaining because I don't have more, or better, or bigger, or prettier. 

How did I become this? The realization of where I had let my attitude drift to started a whole new round of frustration, and with it determination. So today, I wage war. I don't know how to be any different than the selfish woman that I am on my own, and so I make a choice. I will cling to my Jesus harder and fiercer than before, because without Him, this life of mine is worthless. I don't want to be proud, or haughty, or selfish, or flaunt myself in any way, and so I cast those cares aside and I claim freedom from those. I want to live a life of servanthood.

I remember the sweetness of His presence and the sound of His voice in my spirit, the rush of His wind against my skin and the colors He painted around me. I remember visions He has given me and His promise of more to come. I remember Him being so much that I literally cannot describe Him. I am so thirsty to return to that place where I could sit in His presence and feel His peace and His heartbeat and stay there for hours without becoming restless. So once again, I sit before Him, a pitiful human, and I offer myself up.

I mentioned in my last post that I am ready for whatever He has for me, and I truly am. I am a broken, tired little girl, but honestly... that doesn't even matter. Because where I end, He begins. Where my spirit is full of frustration, His is full of grace. When I don't know what to sing, He places a melody in my heart. And that, my friends... that is extraordinary.

And then I Became Undone

There's something about a bonfire that draws me in. The flame is so mesmerizing, dancing and twirling around the wood, creating and re-creating an endless recital of passion.

Last night I was gathered around a bonfire with five of my closest friends, and as we sat and talked and laughed together, something in the atmosphere was unleashed. A passion that had been kindled in each of our hearts was slowly loosed as we began to venture deeper into topics close to our hearts.

I have been struggling in the weeks past. I have been hearing from God and blatantly ignoring His call and His direction. He has been pouring into me a desire and a passion that I have been pushing aside and refusing to take a closer look at. Last night I expressed my distress and frustration over this, and a friend asked me, "Emily. What are you afraid of?"

Though I knew the answer, this question knocked me off of my feet. How blind I have been! I have seen what God asks of me, I have seen visions and heard songs that speak of what will come, should I choose to follow His calling. I have had dreams full of His heart for others and His desire to heal and provide for the hurting, for the desperate, for the lost and the angry. I know what I am supposed to do. And until now, I haven't wanted to acknowledge it. Last night, however... something broke. My heart has been harboring fear of the unknown, and as my friend provoked me to think about this, something in my spirit came undone.

I am afraid of people. I am afraid that when I step out into what my Father is calling me to do, I will look like a fool. I'm afraid that I will be looked down upon, and I will be despised, rejected, and cast away from people. I know that what I am called to do is big, and I know that I will lose face. I have been afraid of stepping away from my pride for fear I will lose it, and I have been afraid that my reputation will be shot once I move into this boldness that is drawing me nearer.

Today, I am here to say that I am willing. I am willing to look the part of a fool. I am willing to be cast aside. I am willing to lose my reputation, to lose my friendships, to lose my family and my church and my house and every single comfort that I have. I am willing, because I know that no matter what, no matter how far I go, no matter where I am called, the Protector and the Redeemer is standing right next to me. Ultimately, that is what matters. I am willing to lose my life of comfort and of standards and of expectations to pick up the life of a servant, a life of servitude and blessing others, a life of joy and of pain and of laughter and tears, of stepping into the places no one else is willing to go, of going there with people and being one hundred percent vulnerable and open. I am willing to lose it all, because through losing this life, I am gaining a much better one.

So this is me, expressing my fears and my faults and my failures and thanking God that HE is sovereign and that HE is my identity and my drivng force. Without Him, I will come undone. Within Him, I am unstoppable. I claim His power and His freedom and His strength, boldness, and courage, and I say that this life I am living, it's His.

Here I am, I stand with arms wide open, to the One, the Son, the everlasting God.

I Had a Dream Once

Imagine a river, its silvery water writhing and collapsing around itself. It cascades along, careless. You can hear the power in that water. You can see the intensity, feel the noise of the waves bouncing off rapids. Stemming from the mountains, the water is frigid, breathtaking. It's purifying, refreshing, cleansing water. Even when you're standing hundreds of feet away, you can still hear the music of the water, screaming its melodies over rocks and branches and banks, rushing and falling and lapping against itself and the earth.

Somehow though, as you go about whatever you have on your agenda during the day, the fact that a river exists a short distance away slips your mind. Oh, the remembrance of it still exists in the back of your mind, you haven't actually forgotten, but it's no longer a conscious thought. You no longer revel in the throaty, beautiful sound it produces. The incredible sense of peace and passion it had previously evoked in your spirit has dimmed...

Sometimes you remember the river and your heart beats a little faster in anticipation of hearing it once again, seeing its power and hearing the glorious noise it creates.

Sometimes your concentration breaks a bit and the noise rushes over you again and you breathe a sigh, because it's a wonderful sound.

Sometimes you don't even notice that you're not noticing anymore.

Sometimes you forget altogether, and wander away, and never return.

Oh, that we would remember.

Can you imagine? Can you imagine living every day being able to hear the glorious, melodious sound echoing slightly in your spirit? And when you really want to experience it in its fullness, all you need to do is wander to the edges and take it in. Immerse yourself in it, even, if you need refreshment. It may seem painful or cold at first, but afterwards you won't regret it, because you feel renewed, awake and alive and alert. It's wonderful.

Imagine if Jesus was this river. Just think about it. And then, when you've thought about that for a bit, 

re-read this post. 

My desire is to live with the crash and murmur of His presence, of His voice, living in my spirit every moment of my life. I desire Him. 

What would it be like to feel Him every second of the day, whether awake or asleep? Can you imagine the beauty, the refreshing, gorgeous, incredible, awe-inspiring, breathtaking wonder that would be?

Can you imagine?

Oregon. Laughter. Waterfall.

I'm sitting at my computer in sweats and a t-shirt, drinking steaming homemade Chai tea, face scrubbed clean of makeup. It's raining outside. I'm exhausted. I'm listening to chill music. I went camping this past weekend, so being clean, in clean sweats and having clean hair feels incredible.

This past weekend was a challenge for me. I was invited by a friend to go camping near Roseburg, Oregon, with her former college group from Suburban Christian Church. I headed to Oregon on Monday the 21st, and spent a few days with my friend before we drove down to Corvallis to meet up at Suburban on Friday with the group of campers who were heading in earlier than others. 

First of all: I love camping. And I absolutely love meeting new people. But this weekend, God had a lesson for me.

When we arrived at our campsite and had finished setting up, and the rest of the campers arrived, we ate dinner and played a few games that helped us familiarize ourselves with each other. Normally, I'm pretty good at meeting people and starting up conversations, but for some reason this weekend, I was scared. Terrified of messing up and of letting people down. I hadn't realized I had slipped back into the fear of man until Saturday afternoon. I was invited multiple times to go hiking with a few different groups of people during free time Saturday, but I declined. I suppose that I was nervous that I wouldn't be able to keep up (I have exercise-induced asthma... LAME excuse not to go hiking!) or that I'd not know how to strike up conversation. Essentially, I was being a complete bore and absolutely ridiculous. 

Instead of hiking, I went down to the river and sat against one of the concrete pillars holding up one side of the bridge. I brought my Bible and notebook down with me and set them both down under a plant growing on the side of the concrete and rocks I was sitting on. I took a sip of my tea from my mug... and just listened.

Have you ever sat beside a river and just let the noise of the water wash over you? It's healing. It's cleansing. It's exhilarating. As I was sitting, a thought popped into my head.

"Em... what are you afraid of?" 

Confused, I answered. "Sickness. Pain...being caged...?" I wasn't entirely sure where this was going.

"No." The thought echoed, persistent, "What are you afraid of? Why are you afraid to speak to people? Why are you afraid to interact?" 

I was blown away. Here I was, sitting alone by a river, feeling sorry for myself, when I had clearly been asked and sought after by multiple people. I had been given opportunity to engage in numerous activities and tasks, and had backed out on each one. Seriously, how silly can I be? 

I spent some time in prayer and talking to God about my fears of people, and He so graciously reminded me that His strength is sufficient, and that my joy can be found in Him, not in the approval or thoughts of man. GOODNESS how freeing that can be! 

I'd love to say that I didn't give it another thought that weekend, but that would be lying. However, I did make an effort to be interactive with the rest of the group, and as I let myself out of my shell more, I received an incredible amount of acceptance, understanding, and love from those around me. I was talking with a friend about this, and she brought up an interesting question:

How often do we miss the love and grace that's offered or poured out to us, just because we are so intent on ourselves and our "protection"? I tend to completely, if unintentionally, ignore what's being set right in front of me out of concern for myself. I had realized this half a year ago, but I didn't realize how incredibly easy it was to slip back into this. Once I opened up, though... dang. God used my time so well. I was privileged to be able to share my complete story with two of my new friends, and stay up late talking with a friend about life, passions, dreams, and all the in-between things. 

Moral of this post: Trust. Don't let the little things get in the way. Deep down, there will always be a bit of insecurity. It's sad, but true, and being human and sinners, I don't think that it will ever go away. Thankfully, we serve a God, a Daddy, who is bigger, and stronger, and so much more on fire with passion for us that we can ever imagine. He will always carry us through, and when it's too much for us, that's where He begins to work most powerfully, because that is where we need to surrender. It was hard to learn surrender this weekend, but it ended up being a beautiful exchange, and in turn I was able to experience incredible grace and joy.

So, sitting here, in my sweats and finishing up my Chai... I'm entirely thankful to claim the love of my Daddy who fought for me, and will continue to fight for me. Thanks Jesus, for Your gentle and passionate ways of reminding me of my fragility and Your unending strength.

Rain. Pour. Flood.

Raindrops. They basically define the Northwest United States. We joke about "liquid sunshine" and about how you know you're from the Northwest when you don't own an umbrella, but own about 4 NorthFace raincoats. We play in the rain, we walk in the rain, we sing in the rain, we drink coffee in the rain. It's a way of life here. We don't let it hinder us. Yes, we would rather have sunshine, but the rain is such a constant companion that we are accustomed to dancing in it as skillfully as we dance under the sunshine.

Raindrops. I've been reading Psalm 104 over and over for the past few weeks, and GOODNESS. I've never heard so much about life-giving water. The psalmist speaks of God's intense and beautiful glory, His passion for His creation, His life-breathing, drenching, soaking, purifying rain that invokes in the plants and the beasts of the land the desire to thrive. The waters flee at the sound of His name, yet they flow and rush over the inhabitants of the land when the appointed time has come. After the flood that Noah and his family survived, God gave us a promise that He wouldn't flood the earth with water again.

I went on a hike yesterday with my friend, and when we reached the top of this huge hill (Angel's Rest, Oregon), you could see for miles around. We could see out over the Colombia river into Washington State, and we could see the clouds unleashing their water over the land a few miles away, heading towards us. We read Psalm 104 just as it began to rain, and the power of those words combined with the physical rain that the heavens were unleashing brought bouts of giggles from both of us. I've been sensing the re-occurring theme of rain. Songs keep coming up on Pandora about rain, I watched a movie last night where moments of beauty happened in the rain, and I woke up to rain this morning.    

JESUS. I desire rain.

What if the rain that we speak about doesn't just come in physical form? What if the rain that Psalm 104 expounds on isn't just the rain that falls from the clouds above, but is also the rain of Jesus' presence and love, falling from the heavens in a tangible and incredible, soaking way? What if when we woke up in the morning and looked out the window and saw sunshine, we thanked God for His life-giving rain that was to fall that day? WHAT IF WE PRAYED FOR RAIN?

JESUS. I want rain. I want YOU. I want YOUR rain on my face, Your floodwaters drowning me, Your raindrops splattering all over me and drenching me in YOUR presence and in YOUR power. I want You to flood us not with the physical water, Lord, but with Your rushing waters of passion and love and the desire to thrive in YOUR name! I want to feel Your rain splashing on my feet, rushing in streams and rivers and lakes and oceans over this world, over these dry and dusty, desolate lands and hearts. I want to sing of Your rain, I want to dance in Your rain, I want to climb the mountains around and look over the valleys and the towns and see Your rain.

Rain down on us, Lord. Rain down. Open the floodgates of heaven. Let all these songs that shout of Your rain begin to shout even louder as my desire, as the desire of passionate hearts around the world cry out and yearn for Your rain. Let Your rain come, Father. We will cry out, we will never relent, we will speak of Your rain and of Your glorious life water until You come to bring us into Your kingdom. Flood us, Father. Drench us. Consume us. 

Bring on the rain.

GOLLY! This is real life.

Let me just open this little post with a fabulous verse from one of my favorite books in the Bible:

"Wearing a linen ephod, David was dancing before the Lord with all his might," -2 Samuel 6:14 (I encourage you to read the entire passage, though, because it both speaks of God's holy power, and it's hilarious. Just a side note.) I've had a ton of realizations and deep thoughts lately, and I just wanted to take a second and praise Jesus. So, join with me as I give all the glory to HIM!

I am stoked for life, because Jesus is in life, which means life is exquisite, and lovely, and no matter what happens, I can have JOY, and I have PURPOSE, and I can sing and dance and shout and look like a complete fool, and people can stare at me and make fun of me, and I don't have to worry because I am flawed, and I know it, and I know that I am exceptionally beautiful to my Daddy, Jesus, and He is all that matters to me right now, and is the One who lifts my head in EVERY circumstance, and He has SO much power and has given me SO much potential and love for people and for life, and a passion to see healing and restoration brought to our generation and to our world, and HE is the center of my passions and I look to HIM for direction, and He knows of every imperfection in me and still loves me, and I can do nothing to change that; I can dance unashamedly before my God and sing with all of my might (those are worth repeating, so much FREEDOM in these actions!), I am so thankful and in awe and completely blown away that I am my Beloved's, and He is mine!