Sigh, I'm in Love!!!!

Last night was dreamy. Not in the girl, pink is my absolute favorite color way. Last night was great because I had the chance to worship with a heart that had been pretty battered but is still beating. God is so gracious! I really don't think my feet touched the floor at church. I am so in love with Him. Not because He sweeps in and rescues me. Although He definitely does that. Plenty of times. Its the fact that through thick and thin, He's still with me. I can complain and moan and groan, and go through the rough times and He's still right beside me. Or I can laugh at His creativity with the world He's made, or just smile at His gentleness with me. We have a hammock in our backyard, so last night, after the Ring, after Jason's Deli (Which I'm not a fan of, but I love my friends so I'll suffer through it), I just sat in the moonlight with Him. I didn't say much, I didn't really need to. Just looked at the moon and thanked Him for thinking I'm worth all the trouble He goes to to love me. Giving His only Son, enduring my temper tantrums, knowing full well I'm not perfect and still loving me for it. How could I not love Him?

Miracles, Signs and Wonders

I'm glowing. Right now there is the biggest, chessiest grin on my face. Wanna know why? Because the God of the Universe, my Father, gave me a miracle yesterday. It wasn't anything along the lines of making me mute or deaf. I wasn't raised from the dead, and I haven't taken any jaunts on any water lately. It was exactly what I needed at the exact time I needed it.

Let me start at the beginning. Tuesday night my friend Katie called me. Now Katie is a real smart cookie. She has the uncanny ability to look at me and see me. Not the fancy smokescreen dog and pony show that I can turn on and off like a switch. Anyways, I was invited to a Tuesday night cg's birthday celebration at Cheesecake Bistro for Laura Marks. (She turned 21. Happy Birthday Beautiful!) As we are sitting in the waiting area, Katie calls my cell. She'd had a big weekend and I thought she was calling me to tell me how it went, so I ran outside to take her call. Nope, not one word about her weekend, she called to check on me. She's asking how I am, why I'm taking the actions that I am, etc. Not getting angry or judgmental with me, just trying to understand where I'm coming from. So I tell her I've fallen for every doubt I've encountered lately and have no clue what I'm doing. I tell her I know that I'm not supposed to be quitting anything yet I'm too weak to do anything about it. She listens to every little piece of my heartbreak and then says, I think its going to hurt you more by not serving. I see you when you serve, you love it. Its written all over your face. She's right. Don't get me wrong, I get tired. And there are times when I just need a break. But its my form of worship. I don't have a beautiful voice that brings others closer to heaven. I have a heart that serves others. Its not full of flash and fanfare. Its just a sincere desire to serve others to glorify and point to my God. So after we get done talking she asks if she can pray for me. She said what is it going to take for you to understand that God is faithful? So I, kind of flippantly, said, "A miracle. God speaking to me in an audible voice." She replies, Ok, that's exactly what we'll pray for. I almost laughed out loud. A miracle? I don't have the faith for a miracle. Other people get miracles. People who have the faith to move mountains get miracles. (And for those who know their Bible, yes, I know that to move a mountain, the size of your faith only needs to be the size of a mustard seed.) People in third world countries who live on faith and little else get miracles. As she's praying I'm hoping and praying that Katie has enough faith for the both of us. Because I'm running pretty low in the faith category. She gets done praying, and I go eat cheesecake. Keep in mind this is tuesday night....

Wednesday morning my cell phone starts ringing. I didn't recognize the number. Usually I don't pick up the phone if I don't recognize the number. But then I had the thought that it might be one of my students. I'm not a teacher, but I work with college kids all over the state, so it might be one of them. So I pick it up. It's Rob. From the Ring Rob. He's calling to see why I wasn't at the Southern shelter the day before. I tell him that I'm pretty much quitting anything and everything that resembles service in an effort to get my focus back on God. He says, Well, I've been praying for you and it sounds like you still need prayer. I'll keep at it, but I don't think this is what you should be doing. I tell him I agree with him, thank him, and hang up....

As I'm sitting at my desk three minutes after the phone call, I hear in my right ear, "I'm loving on you through them." And then I recall all the phone calls, emails, blog comments, text messages that have come in the past few days. People just coming out of the woodwork to love on me and help me up as I've fallen flat on my face. So if you were one of the ones who took the time and followed God's leading to love on me, THANK YOU!!! You were my first miracle!! God used you to let me know that even though I fall short He still has me and has a good and perfect plan for my life. I'm so humbled and awed by His grace and the next time I see any one of you, I'm totally gonna love on you. Just wanted to give you fair warning....

The Cowardly Lioness

In my dastardly plan to get back to God, I've dropped every form of service that I have been involved in lately. And its slowly killing me. I'm at the point where I second guess everything. I'm happy serving with others and loving on people. And somewhere along the line I gave into the doubt and whispers in my ear that being content by giving to others is insufficient. You don't make a difference, they don't need your help, you don't really need to build them up, you're a fake. You are not worthy of being happy. All lies. Complete load of crap. And yet I'll believe that in a heartbeat rather than the truth. If I'm brutally honest with myself, I don't know what the truth really is. I've got a still small voice that leads me to serve and love, but is that God? Are the desires of my heart of God? How do I know? Do I run and hope that the heartbreak I'm going through will just magically disappear? Or do I stay recognizing that these trials make me stronger for whatever is ahead? Bringing me ever closer to the God who never leaves or fails me? The God who knows exactly where I'm at because He knows what the future holds for me.

"You see," said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, "I haven't the courage to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all."

Sunday Night Hurt...Alot

Sunday Night at the Ring I could've lived without. The teaching lately has been over Psalm 23. This week it was over Psalm 23:3, 42:5,11, 43:5 and Jeremiah 2:13. The topics were settling and being downcast. In a nutshell, drinking muddy water and building your own cistern because you are settling is a bad idea. It kills you slowly and doesn't let God lavish His amazingly wonderfully huge plans for you. The Shepherd takes care of us, but a lot of the time we settle instead of waiting and trusting the Shepherd to know better than we do. This "don't settle" phrase is usually used for dating relationships, but it can be tied to anything that we do. Ok, fine, I'm not in a dating relationship. This doesn't apply to me. I'm ok, you're ok. We're all fine in the imaginary world I've dreamed up. But God had other ideas for me that night. It was high time I faced the music as to what's really going on in my heart. I've totally settled. Ouch. That doesn't feel good.

I managed to go from I'm doing just fine to turning into a complete ball of tears and snot as the terrible truth and I came to face to face. I love to serve. It gives me joy to love and serve others in any capacity I can find. When I started serving way back when I first came to the Ring, it was to honor God with my actions. It was all about God and serving Him by serving others. Recently, almost without me noticing, it has turned into being all about me and serving one. And that one was not God, that one was me. So Sunday night I faced the pain, heartbreak, shame and embarrassment that I had shifted my focus from God to me and my desires. This is not what God has planned for me and I know it. So now I'm trying to backtrack and get back where I need to be. Firmly ensconced in His arms and doing His will, not mine. Easier said than done. I'm tired of struggling with the same crap that I give over to Him daily, minute by minute sometimes. Is this the life that God has called me to? Weak and struggling with my own selfishness? I'm not a coward. I fight for what I believe in. I just don't fight for myself. I will trust God in a heartbeat to work a miracle in other's lives, but He's not big enough to work a miracle in mine. When did I become a girl that settled? When did I limit God? What arrogance!

So now begins the humbling process of me coming back to God. He's there with open arms, calmly waiting for me, I just still feel sheepish about the whole thing.

Careful, He Bites...

Today I had spit slide down my face. Oops, I've skipped ahead to the juicy part (get it? yay double entendre). Let me start at the beginning. At the shelter during the first part of the day, we have the kids who are too young to go to school come upstairs and play with us. We do crafts, read, play connect four, candyland, you get the idea. We have these metal fence barricades that encourage the kids to stay in an area that we can somewhat control. They know they are not supposed to go under or through them, but today I had a runner. He's about a foot and a half tall and when he doesn't get his way, he screams in a high pitch whine that sounds dangerously close to girly. Anywho, this little guy gets upset and one of the volunteers comes up to me and says that he's ran under the barricade. I tell her, I'll get him and start making my way over to him. Thus begins the battle of me and a toddler. I take one step towards him, he takes four. All the time I'm telling him that I will get him and we will go straight downstairs. After a little cat and mouse I have him in my arms and I'm talking to him, asking him why he's not doing the right thing, reminding him of the rules, etc. He then pinches me, so I grab his hand. Keep in mind, he's still in my arms. So one arm is holding him in my arms, the other has his hand. We are walking towards the door. He screams in my ear. I say, "Please stop screaming." He drops the F bomb. I immediately stop walking and say, "Excuse me? No, sir, you do not say words like that." So he spits in my face. Not a little bit. It was a straight up mouthful of spit that hits my cheek and proceeds to slide down my face. I try to control my gag reflex and hope that this not the highlight of my weekend. "No, sir, you do not spit on people." The next phrase that comes out of this child's mouth? "F you." And then calm as you please, bends down and bites my hand. My hands are not long and slender, if anything they are short and stubby. However, I don't have enough insulation on them to be able to take a whole lot that doesn't show on my skin. As I'm typing this I'm looking at my right hand. There are little teeth marks on it. Thank you irish ancestors.