A Stream in the Desert, Part 1

The last two weekends have been a stream in my desert. They have refreshed me during this dry season and I am at peace. Finally. (Because there's so much that wants to pour into this blog, I will have to split it into two parts.) 

See, I am doing a new thing!    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland.
 The wild animals honor me,
    the jackals and the owls,
because I provide water in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland,
to give drink to my people, my chosen,
     the people I formed for myself
    that they may proclaim my praise.

-Isaiah 43:19-21

Two weeks ago, I had a dream. Not just any dream. Not a running in a field of flowers dream. This was an eye-opening, soul-shaking, earth-shattering kind of dream. I won't go into the entire thing, but I will tell you that in this dream I was lost. I knew where I was and where I wanted to be, but it was all wrong. There were women and children suffering right in front of my face, but instead of me reaching out to help, I just watched. I was too concerned with my own objective. Eventually, there came the conclusion of this dream which left me questioning my soul's fate. I hadn't questioned this in a long time. I had an intimate relationship with Jesus and I knew where I would go after this body wears out.

After waking up from this dream, shaking not just physically, but deep within my soul, I knew changes needed to happen. Right now. I opened my devotional for the first time in a long time and I dove into the word much like my sloppy Great Dane does with her water dish on a hot day. (Gross, but a good depiction.) Afterward, I still wanted more, so I turned on YouTube and watched the latest message from my home church way down in Hinesville, Georgia.

The worship was so good, leaving me as a big ole ball of tears and snot. The message was perfectly designed for me. In this moment. On this day. Mine. I was listening to my dear friend, brother, and pastor preach into my soul like applying soothing medicine on a burning wound. I was seeing the backs of the heads of my beloved family. I was watching my very best friend and wishing I was sitting beside her. A crazy thought occurred to me to maybe just check airfare and see what happens. So I did.

Turns out tickets weren't too bad, and they were flying right into Savannah (which never happens). After talking to Mike (who was instantly sold on the idea), I booked our flights. Mike and I would fly to Georgia and be able to worship beside our family again. Yes, our kids were disappointed. Angry and upset, they didn't understand why they couldn't come with us. They miss our Georgia people just as badly as we do.

We flew out on Friday and we were both smiles and excitement all day. We were like kids heading to Disney World!

That weekend was perfect. It was full from the moment we got there. Everything felt normal, like we had never left. This was our life. It wasn't strange or awkward or uncomfortable. These people have been instrumental in our birth, our walk, and our continual growth as Christians. These people not only care for us, but they care deeply for our souls. They love us in that Jesus-agape-type love that allows them to put selfish ambition aside and desire our holiness over their happiness. It's a pure type of love that we have never experienced elsewhere.

Every day was filled with love, deep and meaningful conversation, joy, laughter, and food. Really good food. I felt joy again like I hadn't in a long time. The kind of joy that makes you want to run through an inflatable obstacle course (that never ends) in almost 90 degree weather, right after eating fried chicken. It is crazy joy and it was well worth the stomach ache afterward. Laughing from deep in my spirit, remembering what it was like to be silly and ridiculous and not care. It was so good.


Leaving that place was arduous to say the least. I could hardly speak, or I would lose my composure. It felt like there was this glorious joy-filled dancing of souls, all laughing and spinning around in this beautiful mess of a dance... and I was being pried from it, weary and heartbroken. Having to make my way back to the desert. My heart ached and my soul longed to turn around every step of the way back to Wisconsin. 

I was refreshed, but devastated at the same time. It was a confusing place to be and I didn't really know how to cope with it. So I just rested in God, trusting that He knew exactly what to do.

I believe the reason I feel like myself in Georgia, is because for the first time in my life, I had been living as God as always intended. I was living out my purpose and my calling. I was seeking the lost, and I was praying for them, worshipping with them, and loving them back into the arms of their Savior. I was doing something meaningful and using the gifts and abilities God has bestowed on me. 

Since moving away, I haven't found a place where I feel like I can step out in the middle of worship and pray over someone. I don't think it would be acceptable for me to drop to my knees and sob like a giant baby, or dance in the aisle, or speak a word over a perfect stranger. I don't know how those would be received here and I feel like I am in chains. Like I need to keep my mouth and my body still, so as not to make anyone uncomfortable. Maybe these are lies the enemy is telling me to keep me in this dark place, or maybe its reality. I just know that I feel stifled. I want to shout His love from the rooftops, but I feel silenced.

      

Burning the Tree Down

A few weeks ago I was at a church meeting. A woman stood up to say some encouraging things and give a bit of her testimony. In that, she explained how she had been spending a lot of time in prayer forgiving people for making her feel rejected. God revealed to her that these situations were just leaves on a big ole tree. As soon as she got rid of a few leaves, there were several more sprouting out of the branches. She realized if she was to ever truly move out of this place of constant rejection, then she would need to get rid of the entire tree- from the roots.

This got me really thinking. I have struggled with being accepted and liked by people my whole life. I thought I had dealt with these issues, but if I had, then why did I still get nauseous when someone was mad at me? Why would my mind get stuck trying to figure out what I did wrong if someone didn't give me the attention I thought they should have. I had rejection issues. Approval issues. I needed to figure out where the root was so I could burn that whole dang tree to the ground.

I prayed on it and spent some time reminiscing with God. I had already forgiven my dad, so I don't think that is the cause. But then what could it be? I realized after awhile that I had some things from my childhood in regard to my mom that I hadn't addressed. I hadn't dealt with these things because I didn't think I needed to. I didn't think they necessarily required forgiveness toward her because mostly they were not directed at me or anything she had done to me. It was mostly things I had seen and heard. Things I had witnessed. Being my role-model, I had watched my mom and took subconscious note of what a woman looks like and how she speaks and acts.

Please do not misunderstand me. My mom was always a great mom and never would have ever done anything to intentionally harm any of us. She did the best she knew how and it is better than most moms. I have always viewed her as strong and independent. But my mom struggled with loving herself. She struggled with accepting herself for who she is. I don't think she ever saw herself as being good enough, pretty enough, thin enough, or just enough. Period.

I had a raw and honest conversation with my mom after my revelations and it was so good. We discussed the things I remembered and I forgave her for things that she had unknowingly said and done. I know that had she realized back then how much her Daddy God loves her, things would have looked a whole lot different. I am thankful now that my mom is in the arms of her Father and daily moving deeper into her relationship with Him. 

After many tears and really good conversation, I didn't feel a sudden miraculous weight off my shoulders. I didn't hear angels singing and see the clouds parting to glorious bright white light around me. Nothing of notable change was made. Or so I thought.

Since that conversation with my mom, there have been many situations where the enemy has tried to use the people in my life to knock me down and make me feel worthless. Whether its in a Facebook post directly calling me out for something I wasn't even a part of, or in a private message accusing me of having evil motives for something they don't understand. There has been things said about me and to me that should have wrecked me emotionally.

It was only a week or so ago that I realized all these things had and were still happening... and I was fine. Perfectly ok. I wasn't losing sleep or walking around with a sick feeling in my stomach. I wasn't desperately trying to defend myself or my motives. I wasn't quick to explain who I was and what I was doing. I realized that I don't care what people think of me. I don't care what they think of my actions or my motives.

The only one that matters is my Father. My Daddy Dear. My Abba. My God. He is the only one who matters. He sees my heart and hears my thoughts. He knows who I am and why I do what I do. I don't owe anyone anything. I don't have to explain myself. If someone wants to know what is happening in my life and in my heart, because they genuinely love and care for me. Then I know they will ask. They wont assume and they definitely wont attack. If they do, then I know that it has nothing to do with me. It has to do with something within them that God needs to help them work out. I cant and wont be offended by the poor actions and words of others. How can I take other peoples hurts personally? 

I thank God for healing me of this rejection and acceptance junk that I have dealt with my whole life. Being rid of it has opened my eyes to seeing people for who they really are. My eyes are no longer shrouded by a veil of self-consciousness. I can see the love and care that was always there. I can see the genuine relationships that the enemy wanted to keep from me. I can finally experience freedom in my friendships because I don't need these people to validate me. God validates me. He assures me of my place with Him. And He smiles on me with the love of a Daddy for his most beloved baby girl. 

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;    you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
    I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
    you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
    before I’d even lived one day.

- Psalms 139:13-16 MSG

A Dark Place

Wow. Has it been over a year already? My last post was July 3, 2015. Fifteen months has passed. Fifteen months, people!! Do you have any idea the craziness that abounds in my life over a fifteen month period?! Well... it's a lot...

I wont bore you with a twenty page essay on every detail, but I will tell you that we have somehow found ourselves living in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. Mike has a great job and is home way more than he used to be. I am able to stay home with our girls and only work a very part time, seasonal job to keep me busy through the winter. Luciana has discovered and fallen in love with volleyball. Grace has become and works her butt off being a talented gymnast. Lila is finding her joy in choir and collecting things. Sophia and Hazel are simply enjoying the life of living so close to their cousins.

We live 4 miles from my sister and her family. Her and I have grown so close and it seems the closer we get to God, the stronger our bond grows. Jessica has become a best friend to me as well as the big sister she's always been. Being able to share life with her is indescribable. Seeing our children laugh together and enjoy each other so much is something I didn't know that I would ever have on a regular basis again.

We are close to our parents and extended family as well. They are all roughly an hour and half to two hours away, just across the border into Minnesota. We visit with them often and it's always pleasant and fun.

We have everything I wanted. Everything I missed so much about this place. We have our family, we have the great schools and better hours at work. We have a Target just a few minutes down the road for goodness sakes!

So why do I feel so empty?

Why do I long to be back home in Georgia?

Why does everything feel so bleak?

When we moved here we knew we wouldn't find another Restoration Church. That place is impossible to duplicate. We would never find the same people and the same relationships, because every one of those beautiful people are irreplaceable. We had an expectation of finding something similar, however. We expected to find a church with passionate and Spirit filled worship. With a message that challenged us and stepped on our toes. We expected to meet people who would sharpen us and allow us to pour into them.

We have been to 4 different churches so far. Desperately trying to connect and find the passion that we knew so well at RC. But everything here is so different. People are so distracted. Everyone is so busy. Church isn't Spirit led. It's tightly scheduled and boxed up in a pretty package. The worship sings the same words, but it feels like its just words. The messages are all very relevant and really aren't bad messages, but they don't challenge us in our faith. They don't call us out and encourage us to change and grow. As soon as service is over, everyone rushes home for the football game and to prepare for another busy week of doing the exact same things. Work, school, sports, activities, and church again the next week. There is no time for Bible studies, or spontaneous coffee, or lunch dates. There is no time for getting out in the community and helping those who need it or showing them the love of Jesus. There isn't even time for worship to inconveniently run past three songs. One hour and you are in and out of there. Like a drive through. Like a quick pit stop in the chaos of a completely jam packed organized life.

This is so very sadly different from the slower and deeper way of life we have been so fortunate to have experienced down south. Everything was worship. Everything was about Our Father. You choose your career based on what will allow you to use your gifts and be the hands and feet of Jesus. You plan your weekends around being home and being available to attend or even serve at church on Sunday. We used to plan our vacations around church, leaving Sunday afternoon and arriving home Saturday night. Shoot.. I planned my C-section with Hazel around our church service. I couldn't miss it. Not for anything, not even having a baby.

Every day our church body looked more and more like the early church that Paul describes in Acts.

Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand were added to their number that day. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

-Acts 2:41-47

At RC, church is a way of life. It isn't something you do on Sundays before the game starts.

I am by no means saying that people here don't love Jesus. I know there are so many who are so head over heels in love with Him. In fact, I think there are more people who believe in God and consider themselves Christian in this area than not. All I am saying is, that the culture is dramatically different. I miss the southern Georgia, Restoration Church, Jesus culture. I miss every day being for Him. I miss every breath being for Him. I miss seeing and being a part of people being saved. I miss experiencing others lives being changed forever and being able to have a small hand in that.

Most importantly, I miss having a body of believers surround me, holding me up when I am weary, helping me to stand when I fall, lending me a shoulder to cry on, and giving me a Godly word when I don't know what else to do. I am overwhelmed with family up here, yet I feel so alone spiritually. I miss my church family more than this blog can explain.

I don't know if God brought us here or if it was just my heart and emotions leading me. I don't know if God wants to use us here and we just aren't listening. All I know is that we aren't the people we used to be. I read through my previous blog posts tonight and I am in awe of the woman who wrote those. Who is she?? Where has she gone?? I am but a whisper of the woman I was and I miss her dearly.

Thankfully God has placed specific people in my life to remind me of who I am and who God has called me to be. I hate that I keep forgetting and that I am making them work so hard, but I am so beyond grateful for them and their dedication and faithfulness. I can honestly say without these life lines, I would be completely spiritually dead. I have forgotten how far I've come from who I once was. I have forgotten how sweet it tastes to be the new creation that I am called to be. I have forgotten the peaceful comfort of living constantly in His presence because I have allowed myself to become distracted and busy. I have allowed myself and my family to acclimate to this new environment instead of challenging it.

I am afraid to post this for fear that those I love will misunderstand my words and my heart. I am so thankful to have every moment that I do with my family, especially my sister. I am so thankful for each laugh and tear that we share. I have missed her so and my heart sings when we are together. She is my candle light in this dark place. She is my hope and the only reason I haven't tucked tail and gone running back to Georgia. I am so thankful for her patience with me all these years and for her accepting me even though most of the time she doesn't understand me. I am so thankful for her steady love that she's lavished on this gypsy soul.

If you can't tell, I am in a pretty dark place right now. But I'm reminded that even a single candle light can be seen for 30 miles. There is hope and God hasn't left my side even when I can't feel Him there. I assure you, I am coming back to who I once was and even better than before.

  The faithful love of the Lord never ends!    His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;
    his mercies begin afresh each morning.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;
    therefore, I will hope in him!”

-Lamentations 3:22-24