Where is the Hope?

I am a notoriously nostalgic person.

My mind relishes the past and it's hard for my heart to catch up to where my physical body is. I replay memories like my favorite movie. I think that's why I take so many photos... for the memories. So that when I'm old and grey, I'll have something to remember. It's why I write so much, so as to remember the feelings.

I love the past because it's a good benchmarker for how far the Lord has brought me. Gosh, has He carried me through so much. There is a collection of benchmarker moments for me when I need to remember certain things about God. I can recall them off the top of my head should I ever need a reminder that God is real. He is faithful. He is good. 

I get overwhelmed sometimes with the story He's given me. I see His fingerprints all over my life, and I'm thankful. It makes me wonder about my sweet friends who don't know Him in the same way I do. 

Where is the hope? Where is the purpose? 

I went on a trip to the beach recently with some friends from work, and one night we were talking about our greatest fears (mine is quite literally childbirth for anyone wondering). One of the fears that everyone circled around was not living out their purpose, maybe not even knowing their purpose. My heart broke for them and how scary that must feel. I wish I could give them the Hope that I've found as easily as taking their hands in mine and wrapping their fingers around it. 

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough to share that with them without shoving it in their face. The daily rhythms of the gospel in action sometimes feels so slow. I want the honest conversations that are intentional and sometimes hard and awkward. I'm not going to tell someone how to live their life, but sometimes I wish I could you know? Is that wrong to say, probably. I just think I've reached a point where I've realized that my way is never better. I trust God more than I trust myself; a lesson I've learned through a slew of mistakes. But again, I guess I never would have learned until going through it. It just hurts me to see people I love walk through unnecessary heartbreak when I feel like I'm holding on to a Hope that will save them.

For My Heart And Mind

I don't think I am the best at handling anxiety. Certainly not the worst, but it can really get to me.

I would not say I'm a particularly anxious person, but I think in my unhealthier state of being I am. I can feel it sink in my heart like a brick. My mind becomes restless and chaotic as it circles around this one thing that's causing a change in my mental and physical state. Depending on what it is, my stomach will feel unsettled; and it can be hard to breathe.

I would be curious to know if I'm very good at hiding this. I don't think people would assume I'm a particularly anxious person, but those who know me well can probably see when my mind is preoccupied or my mood changes. Maybe even just the way I write about anxiety makes me an anxious person? I know a lot of friends who struggle with anxiety, and I feel like this word gets tossed around in modern day vocabulary fairly often... is this what it feels like? To what depth am I experiencing it?

What I have noticed is that I feel this way most often when I cannot control circumstances, feelings, etc. I don't love that because a majority of life is uncontrollable.

One situation in particular never ceases to throw off my rhythm.

Every time he comes back in my life some way or some how, I get chills. I feel like a cloud rests over my head, and I wish I could just fade into a shadow. I wish he didn't have this effect on me. Honestly I don't even think it's him that bothers me, but a reminder of a person I used to be.

I regret that person, so much so that I have tears in my eyes just writing this. In that relationship, I was someone I am not. My eyes were blinded by selfishness, and I turned my back against a God who has given me everything in pursuit of fleeting infatuation. I am ashamed of that girl. What bothers me is that he thought he knew me then, but little does he realize I despise that girl. I cringe when I think of her; and to think that he believes he knew the real me makes me feel sick.

And I know that shame doesn't come from the Lord, but sometimes it still haunts me. It shows up when he shows up, and that's why I feel the need to run. My spirit gets restless and my heart races, not in the excitement way but more like a cardiac arrest way!? My world seems to stop, and I'm paralyzed in fear and regret. I don't want to be reminded of who I once was.

I cling to Philippians 4:7 in these moments, where Paul writes that the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. That verse means so much to me. I love the verbiage here... the word guard is actionable and protective. He mentions both our hearts and our minds; I think that's important. I need peace for both the heaviness in my heart and chaos in my mind. John 14:27 says the peace He gives to us is not given as the world does. This gives me rest. The world doesn't give freely or offer a kind of peace that lasts like the divine.

I pray for peace, and God is kind enough to give of Himself extravagantly. He doesn't hold back no matter how often I need it. When shame threatens to consume me, the Lord brings me to tears with His endless grace. He smiles at me and beckons me closer to Him no matter what I've done or whatever I will do in the future. The fact that I am broken is no surprise to Him.

Even as I write this, a small piece of me is grateful for the anxiety I feel toward this situation and really in general. It turns me back to the arms of the Father in desperation and hope. Anxiety is not from God; and obviously I wish I could learn without experiencing the unpleasant life events, but it's humbling to know my greatest shame will be used for good. It will always be used to bring Him glory. As All Sons and Daughters writes, He takes brokenness aside and makes it beautiful.

Surrounded

My life is not what I pictured.

We serve a God who is strategic and purposeful in all that He does. I am grateful for that. 

Right now I live in a melting pot of a city. People come from all over the world to work and visit the tourist capitol of the world. Coming from a small-ish town in southwest Louisiana, I have never encountered such diversity in every aspect. I'm surrounded by people who don't think like me. They don't look like me or believe the same things. We have differences across the board from accents to political beliefs.

To be quite honest, that used to scare me. Differences scared me. For the most part, everyone I grew up with looked and acted and believed the same things. It wasn't until I moved away that I was able to grasp more of what it meant to truly be a light in darkness and to be the hands and feet of Jesus. 

You're always taught that in youth group, you know? Like how to share the gospel with an atheist and what to do when someone asks about Jesus. I got closer in college, but I was still in the southern bubble of Christianity with discipleship as my main focus. My eyes weren't opened until I was given the mission field that is Orlando, Florida. It's here where I finally had the opportunity to live my faith outside the safety of my comfort zone. It's here where I learned a relationship with God does not have to look exactly like my own.

I think we automatically as humans gravitate toward people who maybe look, think, and feel like we do. We are a species that has perfected the art of finding similarities or things in common to revolve our lives around. We are looking for places to belong. 

It's an interesting process to restructure your mind from the things you always grew up believing or at least were comfortable with. 

I'm doing life these days with a lot of people that don't know Jesus. The more I get to know these people, the more I love them. The more God gives me His heart for them. There is a greater, living Hope for these people, and who will do the hard work of loving them well? Who will not just shove the Gospel in their face and leave, but stay for the long haul and walk them Home? 

The older I get, the less I want to be surrounded by people who are exactly like me. What kind of life is this? I don't think I could live anywhere without the diversity that Orlando has brought me. I don't want what is safe or comfortable anymore. I don't believe that's the life that Jesus led or the life that He calls us to. He has more for me, for us, than a perfectly cookie cutter Sunday school life. And this is not the life I have always dreamed of for the longest time... I don't want that anymore. 

If I could go back in time and tell my younger, more naive self something, I would tell her not to be afraid. The growing pains of re-structuring your mind to love as Jesus does is beautiful and uncomfortable, but this is the good work that matters. This is work that is slow, but worthy. It is getting your hands dirty and wrestling with hard things you may not have all the answers for. This means hard conversations and not always agreeing. It is learning how to love people who are different from you without expectations; burdened only by the desire that they would know the kindness the Lord has so graciously shown you.

My senior year of college, I was afraid of leaving the ministry I had poured four years of my life into. It was a community I called home. I was taken care of and valued there. I still miss it, but I know that it's not my season anymore. God didn't spend all those years prepping me to be tucked away into the safety of a homogenous bubble. Those years were only a foundation; a launch into a world that needs more than just a Bible study on Tuesday night. 

I am thankful to be in a season of life where I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I believe I've always had exactly what I've needed at any given point in my life, but I've never felt the certainty like I do now. My college ministry pastor always told us if we didn't know what to do with our lives, just to go where there was a need. The first time I heard that, my thoughts instantly went to Disney. And what do you know, the Lord made a way for me to come back. That thought is now being fulfilled... I can't wait to see how much more the good work that He has started will be brought to completion. 

I Am Not Small

I care a lot about what people think. It’s not my best quality, and I know that. Sometimes I care too much, and I’m working on that. I can’t imagine I’m alone in feeling this way. In fact, I think most people care about what at least someone thinks of them. 

Knowing that makes me cautious with what I say and do with the dreams that live in peoples’ hearts. What an honor it is for someone to share a dream or desire with you. Our reactions, our words, our attitudes can have more weight than we realize. Are we breathing life into this person or turning off a light in them? I want to be on the side that believes in someone. Even just an eye roll or an attitude of disbelief has been enough to discourage me from doing what I really want. It’s more than just caring about the opinion of others; but fuel to the fear of failure that lives within me. 

These days I am careful who I share my dreams with. And sometimes I am guilty of minimizing my dreams for the sake of others. 

The other day, I came to the realization that I am constantly trying to make myself smaller, and not in the best way. There is a difference between humility and not stepping in to the person that God has created me to be. Humility doesn’t mean my confidence is shot. It doesn’t mean I can’t be proud of who I am, and the person I have fought to become.

God has given me a life and gifts that I should be proud of. Again, not in a boastful way, but in a way that is honorable and confident. Depending on who I’m talking to, I will alter the way I speak about my life to fit their standard for me. Why can’t I just be confident in all that God has given me stewardship over?