On Majesty

My subtitle speaks for itself, but the thought behind it is it's own story. I've become content here, in this place God has me - not a stagnant content, and not incredibly happy, but joyful. It's taken some time, but it's been worth it.

Even in the contentedness, it felt for a while like something was missing- I just couldn't put my finger on it. Then someone said the word "majesty" and I pretty much jumped out of my chair. I've been missing the majesty. So I've tried to keep conscious of the majesty that is God whom we worship, and the way his majesty is displayed through his creation. It helps, try it. Let's not miss the majesty.

We've been reading Tozer's Knowledge of the Holy, my friends and I, and it is very good at keeping the majesty of God front and center. Consider the reason, to begin with, that we seek the majesty:

The yearning to know What cannot be known,
to comprehend the Incomprehensible,
to touch and taste the Unapproachable,
arises from the image of God in the nature of man.

Deep calleth unto deep, and though polluted and landlocked by the mighty disaster theologians call the Fall, the soul senses its origin and longs to return to its Source.

This is all I have to say today

And Vikki Cook and Charitie Lees Bancroft say it so much better than I ever could

Before the throne of God above,

I have a strong, a perfect plea,

A great High Priest whose name is Love,

Who ever lives and pleads for me.

My name is graven on His hands,

My name is written on His heart.

I know that while in heaven He stands,

No tongue can bid me thence depart,

No tongue can bid me thence depart.

 

When Satan tempts me to despair,

And tells me of the guilt within,

Upward I look and see Him there,

Who made an end of all my sin.

Because the sinless Savior died,

My sinful soul is counted free.

For God the Just is satisfied

To look on Him and pardon me,

To look on Him and pardon me.

 

Behold Him there the Risen Lamb,

My perfect spotless righteousness,

The great unchangeable I Am,

The King of glory and of grace,

One with Himself I cannot die.

My soul is purchased by His blood,

My life is hid with Christ on high,

With Christ my Savior and my God,

With Christ my Savior and my God.

 

One with Himself I cannot die.

My soul is purchased by His blood,

My life is hid with Christ on high

With Christ my Savior and my God,

With Christ my Savior and my God.

THERE IS NO... ARIZONA...

Oh wait actually there is. That's a country song if you missed the reference. On that note if anyone in my life feels like they're missing the reference it is pretty much always a country song that you don't know. Just assume, go ahead. Oh and this will be long so, um, thanks for reading?

Ok, so I went to Arizona for a week with my BigKids the week before Easter. It was fantastic, for me, and it was pretty darn good as a youth group missions trip as well. It was awesome to be able to focus on ONE thing, instead of three or four as I usually do, for a week. I mean, we did a lot, and I was going going going and making sure the girls were doing okay, but they were all I had to focus on and it was a nice break. And it combined the two things I love most - missions and the Church.

I'm not sure how to describe this trip. We were a large group of people for the amount of Apaches around the ministry we worked with, and even larger once word got out that all the white people were there and all the Apaches disappeared. Sad day. We did get to build relationships with quite a few of them, though. What poverty they live in on the reservation - 65% unemployment, 70% living below the poverty level, alcohol, drugs, crap family lives, no transportation off the reservation, you name it- it's bad. I truly enjoyed getting to know the few Apaches that I did in that short amount of time. We were able to work with a family of new believers in restoring their walls (filling holes, painting over nasty graffitti inside) and in prayer marathons, all so they could get their kids back and be growing in the faith. This couple literally showed up at the door of the missionaries' place and said, "we want to come to Jesus. we've tried and tried to change on our own (from cocaine, alcohol, etc.) and we can't do it. We need Jesus. Will you pray with us?" Wow. It was pretty rad to participate in the work the Lord is working in their lives. And updates continue to let us know how well they're doing. Praise Jesus for changing lives!

Because there were a lot of us, and 25 high school students on about three acres + free time = trouble, we did a lot of construction/cleanup/painting/literal trailblazing. We worked HARD. Exhaused at the end of the day. I was super-proud of the students. For me, it felt so good to work that hard, and see results. I love love loved being able to serve the missionaries there so that we could enable them to be doing the work they were there to do.

I braided many, many heads of hair into french braids. I had good one-to-one conversations with several of the young women who were struggling with something, and good times of prayer with them as well. I was excited to see how the students were able to get over themselves enough to let God work through them in all the different things we were doing. Church was an experience. An elderly Apache woman who was short with a flat, wrinkled face and long, thick black-grey hair led worship, song-to-song without a break for about half an hour. It sounded like a cross between the early "worship music" and something you'd hear an Apache singing at a powow. It was awesome. Sometime in the middle of some service, I almost laughed out loud. I love following Christ. How else would I end up in the middle the desert at a pennecostal service led by Apaches?

We climbed the hill behind the church and watched the sunrise over the mesa-moutains every morning, because the first morning, it was red. The whole sky. And then orange, and then pink. And we went back to bed (had gotten up to use the bathroom which was outside). Idiots. So every day after that we got up to wait for it to be the same color again. And it never was, but it was beautiful every morning. And it was refreshing to get up that early, praise God, think of the possiblity of the day to come, and sit on a log in the middle of an Apache reservation in Arizona and watch the sun rise.

coming out of the closet

So on Wednesday night Jodi and I had to have a conversation before youth group began, so we were like WHERE can we even meet where there's no students? Cause they are EVERYWHERE. Which is good. So we went into one of the supply closets off the game room, where there was barely enough room for the two of us to sit on the ground. We were talking for a while, can kinda hear the kids outside, and a few of the j/h boys were messing around and one of them hung on the door handle and opened it and jumped. You should have seen his face - he seriously almost peed his pants. So that was funny, we laughed and then talk talk talk.

And THEN I guess there was this mom wandering around who had brought a new j/h student and a new high school student and wanted to talk to a leader real quick to make sure they'd be alright. And Jenn (a j/h leader who was in the game room when we shocked the kid earlier) couldn't find any other leaders and so she was like, well..., um, you see..., ah, I think theeeyyrree in here. And she opens the door and we tumble out of the closet and are like, hey, new mom, sure we'll take care of your kid, no funny business here.

And we shook her hand and went back into the closet and shut the door cause we weren't finished. sO maybe you had to be there but it was pretty funny. And it was totally the perfect place for private convos - I am so using it from now on. The end.

Rachel and Leah

So I was reading today in Genesis about the house of Israel. I LOVE Genesis, for whatever reason. Women are somehow mentioned here more than in many other books, and God is noted as interacting with them a lot. Maybe that's it? But anyway, the story of Rachel and Leah fascinates me. Here are some things I have noticed.

The first three children Leah bears are named in reference to her husband, or her identity as one who is unloved. But when the fourth came it says this: "And she conceived again and bore a son, and said, “Now I will praise the LORD.” Therefore she called his name Judah." It never notes that Jacob had a change of heart. Leah simply decided to begin to praise the Lord. God's overwhelming favor caused her to change her way of thinking even though the original issue never changed.* And guess what? Christ was born of the line of Judah! That brings me joy. And caution to name my kids well.

Not sure I'll ever get why Jacob "loved Rachel more than Leah." Is it to note the human quality in the story? I mean, Rachel was a pretty crazy, crafty woman. Even when Jacob became angry with her, his love remained. But God has mercy on Leah throughout her life. Leah never received the one thing she wanted most: Jacob's love. Rachel is called his wife twice where Leah is not. Rachel is the last (most precious) to go out to meet Esau. Leah should have rightfully had this place, as the first wife and as the eldest daughter. Yet it was denied her. Only in death did Leah receive her rightful place - as she was buried with Jacob, and Rachel was not. I don't know, maybe this mess is just another reason why polygamy is bbbaaaddd.

Side Note: I think I should become a shepardess because all those hot men who love God tend to fall for them at first sight throughout the Torah. I mean, Rachel inspired tears from Jacob.

Other Side Note: those early women were incredibly fertile. Strike fiftymillionfivehundredandthree against evolution.

*Although the issue was prevalent throughout her life, there are notes from that point that suggest that while Leah still desired to be loved by Jacob, she cried out to God about it and he heard her. An appropriate response when the world is not as it should be.

Lately

Lately I've been busy. But good. And experiencing joy.

This Week:

Someone put dog food in the candy jar in our front office. I'm waiting to hear gagging sounds.

I finished reading Velvet Elvis. Love the ending. The chapter on truth doesn't sit so wonderfully, though I know what he was getting at.

I went to hang out with Brooke to maybe go get her a new tattoo but we couldn't. But had fun anyway! Yeah, the ethical implications of my actions are too vague for me to even bother spending more than a few minutes on it. Whatever.

I rediscovered Psalm 116. And this verse - I totally want someone to push me over so I can use it - "You pushed me, that I might fall, but the Lord helped me."

I had fun with Taylor after church Wednesday! Seriously love that girl. And the bigkids played field hockey in the gym. None of us had played before so I'm sure it was like watching five year olds play bumblebee soccer, but we got better towards the end. And I am sore.

...which will totally be helped by the fact that I'm going to jump in an ice-cold pool tonight for the polar bear plunge with the same bigkids.

OH AND I TOTALLY HAD AN EPHIPHANY (see previous post)
I went hiking like a year ago and sat and wrote down everything I like to do and everything I'm good at and my gifts and all that crap, looking for something to be my "thing" and I came up with this vague answer:
I LOVE TO CREATE COMMUNITY.
How I got that is a long story, and what it actually means is still being discovered... as I hope it is my whole life long. However, I've realized that this whole past year I've been trying, mostly subconsciously, and sometimes with purpose, to create community in several different places around me. And I feel like I've been failing. Like trying to keep sheep together without a pen, trying to keep track of them all and help them find and join with each other, dangit, but they keep finding their own way off and then I'm spinning in circles trying to keep track of them all...
Anyway I needed to realize this was why I feel frustrated a lot, because now I am beginning to see the places where it has improved and it helps me not feel so frustrated. But it is a work in progress, as am I. I'm not very good at my "thing" yet. I need to work on figuring out ways to develop it. Hmmmm. Lots to ponder.

here, where I am, and where I am not...

I'm not sure how to explain where I'm at right now. For a long time I was content; a little happy, even. I'm in this place, physically and ministry-wise, that I know I'm supposed to be in. It's CLEAR. For now, until I'm guided elsewhere, I need to be loving and discipling all these high school girls. My bigkids. And I truly enjoy it. I love the depth, and the mini-society that is created in the group. I love helping, and watching them grow.

Lately it's been more difficult, though. Were there just more distractions this fall? I don't really think so. But the last month or so I've been having a hard time. I think the issue arrives when I recognize that if it were up to me, I wouldn't be here. I would be living differently, I hope. I would be traveling, and in a place where I have good community, and working in a job I liked more. I would live in a city, or I would live nowhere. I would have more time to be creative. We've talked about all this, yes? I feel like there are no more life-changes I can make here in Bakersfield. I live in as cheap an apartment as I can get away with where my kids' parents still let them hang out. I'm working hard at my job and am very thankful right now that I have a job. I'm trying to create community here as much as possible. I'm as me as I can get here. Yet there is still this sense that... this isn't me. The putting on hold of my dreams and desires and the way I'd like to be living is grinding out this loss of self. I want to throw my head back and howl in the grocery store that this isn't my life. But that's the point, right? It isn't my life. I'm losing my SELF. How I define myself. Rarely anymore do I even have time to do the things I like to do. People's perceptions of me are continually off-base. I understand with more depth these days what was meant by "I become all things to all men that I might save some".

So, I'm trying to work out this dichotomy. I don't want to completely ignore who I am or my dreams. I'm pretty sure God doesn't want that either. But how do I live like this? When God so clearly confirmed (on new year's eve, actually, ironically) my place, for a moment I despaired. Am attempting to not sink into depression. I desperately need community to breathe life into me. Am now tearing up at work. Crap. I also do know that I need to spend more depth of time with Christ. He needs to breathe more life into me if I'm going to be able to go on here. And I need to let him. I don't want to resent being here, or not like it, but getting sucked in is not an option either. I am well provided for, and am circumstantially just fine. Sometimes I think those trials would be easier to deal with than this inner struggle of the mind and heart.

Somewhere it seems that I've learnt this lesson before... over. and over. and over. The loss of self must be pretty important. Must I lose all of myself? Yes, all. Idiot. I truly do want what Christ wants. I just didn't think he'd have me in whitemiddleclassamerica. Silly me. Beware, when you tell Jesus, "I'll follow you wherever you need me," that it might mean some strange things. But I guess people here need to hear about the true Christ and his way as well. Maybe even more so than others.

But still... it eats at me. If you pray, or even if you don't, pray for me. I'm not doing so hot.

complex

I'm aware this is a complex issue. These are just my thoughts.

Ok, so I know that men are basically autonomous beings. They think in relation to themselves, to reason, and hopefully, are directed by God. Women are more relational and most often think in relation to other people. These two things make sense to me, and it's visible everywhere. At the base, we were somewhat designed that way.

I have many brothers who believe in submission of wives (in the best sense) to their husbands, and that men should lead women in all things spiritual and otherwise. Hey, it's in the Bible. I believe it too - it's just in the application that it becomes perverted. These men truly love Jesus and are seeking to follow him. They have my respect. But this is one of their big points and they stand strong on it.

So why, when we women come off as dependant on guys, or caring a little too much about what guys think of them, do these men fail to understand where it comes from? I know that, once glorified, we won't care what anyone thinks of us except for Christ. And we should be working to get to that point our whole lives long. But really? Doesn't it just make sense that the way we were designed at our core, from the beginning, would be the one thing that sin and Satan would pervert the most? Obviously Eve being made to support Adam made her a relational being from the get-go. And he was to lead her from the get-go. And so it is, that since sin entered the world, we are unable (duh, the nakedness) to relate on that perfect level. And women, being on the more relational side, have the hardest time with it. Of course we are going to care what men think. If you, men, are in the camp that says you're supposed to lead us, it should be obvious we are going to look to you for opinions on everything, especially ourselves. We're not so easily separated from man as he is from us. It's all wrapped up together. Intertwined.

Ok then, kiddies, let's all start leading and supporting each other the way we should. And perhaps a little more compassion for the beautiful half and our identity issues?

Sequel

You know when you're reading a VERY good book, and the author ends it in a way that kind of doesn't make sense? When even though you have the sequel and can find out all about it in the next book, you're thinking the whole time, yeah if I were writing this it would just NOT end this way. The story would most definitely not be headed this direction.


I've been feeling that way lately about my life. Change is coming. I'm moving out of the place with the folks and into an apartment closer to the things I do with the short 24 hours in each day. It's about time, I know, and yes, I am excited about the new place. Which is why I was confused for a couple of hours today when I seemed to... sink into myself. My life is changing, which is good. I like change. The sinking came with the realization that I always expected to be somewhere else right now. I definitely don't wish my life away, but I want change with a caps-c, not slight change.


See, if this was my story...I'd be headed to San Francisco right now. Right now when my job is boring and un-challenging. Right now when I have few friends. Right now when I'm looking at another winter full of dull gray skies and no rain. I'd be headed to a tiny apartment in an old building in the fading light, walking up steep hills to work and play, eating whatever kind of ethnic food I want and making friends with people that care about the things I care about.


BUT. This is not my story to write. It is mine to tell, but it belongs to Jesus to write it. I won't go into the details of the why or the how I know I'm not supposed to leave. The, Jesus, I said I'd live anywhere and be anything you wanted me to be, but here, in this fake in-between? It feels like purgatory. I'll just say that Bakersfield is where he wants me right now, and faith (which I'm not very good at in the first place) is the only reason I'm not going crazy. That and the morbid fascination with what could possibly happen in purgatory in the next couple of years. Hopefully I'll get excited again about the small things. The change with the small-c. And until then?

Here's to His sequel being better than anything I could ever write.

I got the joy - JOY

Down in my heart. I do. It began as unrest, and pressure from the holy spirit like an anvil on my chest, to pray and pray hard. So I did. I prayed for everyone I could think of, not knowing if this anvil was for a specific person or for something to come, or for the church as a whole. I realized a while into pondering, though, that it doesn't matter. God will reveal it to me as he sees fit*, and I just need to get over the wonderin' and on with the prayin'.

This is one of those times where I'm not even sure why God asked me to pray. Who am I that I should have the privilege of interceding on behalf of others? Especially recently I seem bogged down by my own sins and shortcomings. But this persistance of the Spirit was so clear that it seemed to bring one fact to light for me: no matter where I am, as a follower of Christ, he will use me as he sees fit, when he sees fit. My sins are gone to him, scattered. I should pay them no heed except as to confess and not fall in again. So I began to pray.

AND THEN CAME THE JOY. This morning. Overwhelming. I feel clean, free, joyful, desiring and thirsting for the things of God like I haven't in a long, long time. I feel like I should be spinning in an open field, arms wide, and falling on my face before God. This whole experience is entirely other than myself, and it's beautiful to have God working deep down in my heart. I still feel burndened, but my Jesus, the joy, thank you. I want to drink the deep water.

*PS if you were going through a hard time during this time, it's probably you I'sa been a-praying for and if you want to tell me about it I want to hear it.

A Better Woman

"She makes me want to be a better man."

I hear this term often, from guys, from boys, from girls relating what their guys have said to them. And it's true. The right woman should make a man want to be more man, a better man, to excel and do his best. Not that I'm going all Wild at Heart here, mind you, because while that book has a couple of good points I believe it distracts somewhat from truth. But this basic principle holds. Eve was Adam's support (men will say "helper"). In all her beauty, as the crowning glory of all creation, she was there to help Adam be a better man, and to glorify God in her own right. It's a reason to support each other; in a perfect world, men and women of the kingdom will help each other both become fully ourselves (who we've been created to be) and to fully glorify God.

We, women, all have this desire rooted in us, to help men become better men. It is the delivery that has become perverted. We sit up straighter, we do ourselves up, we nag, we hold on too tight. Obviously we get somehow that beauty is one of the things that spur men to become better men, but what kind of beauty? I think Eve was probably the most beautiful woman this earth has ever seen, wild and calming and striking and like home all at the same time. But the Bible never once notes her physical beauty.

And, in the end, I believe we try too hard to become beautiful by our relation to men, as that is what is ingrained in us. Perhaps this is a perversion as well? We are not beautiful only in relation to men, but are able to support men because we are already beautiful. We fail to realize that, most likely, what made Eve the most beautiful was her relation to God as the creator of all beauty as well as all strength. It is only in regaining this lost relation that we become more and more beautiful.

Men, it is not only the delivery that has been perverted but the reception as well. What kind of beauty spurs you to become better men? How often do I meet a man that makes me want to be a better woman?