Sometimes, my heart feels like it's breaking. We've all experienced heart ache from various causes. Maybe your dog died. Maybe your boyfriend turned out to be an inconsiderate jerk - who knew what was hiding behind that great head of hair? Maybe a loved one is being shipped half way across the world to protect your freedom and the freedom of those who don't quite appreciate him. As for me? I get caught up in my own depravity. I struggle with my past sins and the sins that I know I will inevitably commit. We are a fallen creation. We are not perfect. Our only hope is in Christ. Sometimes, I just feel sad that I can't be everything my Jesus deserves. It breaks my heart that I can't go a day without wanting what I don't have, judging someone's terrible fashion decisions, or anything else that is conveniently not coming to mind.
Do you ever just feel helpless? I was feeling that was earlier today. It's a feeling that never really goes away. It just sort of hangs out, buried deep down somewhere. It'll pop up at times when I'm feeling tired or annoyed or sad for some other reason. Today, it came on quickly. And today, it also sort of makes me angry at myself. I know that no matter how hard I try, I'll never quite be able to be completely pleasing to my Jesus 100% of the time. I felt broken down and weak.
About a month ago, my dear friend, whom I've known since 1st grade, lent me a copy of My Utmost for His Highest. I read it a bit and really enjoyed it. As with most books I borrow, however, after a couple of weeks, it laid all but forgotten next to my Kindle. Except today. Tonight as I was listening to Crowder and praying (writing in my journal...it helps me keep my thoughts cohesive), I thought of that little book. So after Jesus and I had finished discussion my latest crises, I picked up the book and turned to today's reading. And I was reminded of my worth.
God, in His infinite wisdom, created us knowing full-well that we would be exactly what we are. As Crowder says, "There's darkness in my skin...". God knew we'd separate ourselves from Him. But chose to breathe life into our unworthy lungs anyways. I was reminded as I read Oswald Chambers musings that I am not here to feel good about myself. I'm not here to wallow in my own self-pity. Yes. I'm depraved. Okay. Move on. We are the most effective for the Kingdom when we are just living our lives. We're going to mess up. Yet, as Mr. Chambers so thoughtfully reminded me, "Blessed are the poor in spirit..." (Matthew 5: 3). I was reminded THEN of a series at my church in Auburn on the Beatitudes. When Jesus says "blessed", he means, "I am with you!" So when we come to a point where we feel spiritually drained, Jesus is there! Blessed are we in those times!
No, we will never be able to be everything that Jesus deserves in his followers. This is where mercy and grace come in. I forget this part too often. He gives us strength in our weakness. He fulfills us and makes us perfect in him. If we could make ourselves perfect, we'd have no need for the beautiful love of Christ. Next time I think about having a pity party, I will do well to remember that we are the biggest impact on this world when we aren't evaluating our worth, when I'm not wondering if I'm making any difference at all.
My job in this life is to live and carry the Name. It's really not all that complicated. I'll let Jesus worry about the rest.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
Sometimes, God Asks Me to Put It in Reverse...
...Perhaps I should consult Him before I make plans.
So much has happened since I last spoke with you. On a completely related note, I hope to be more mindful in regularly posting. I'm so forgetful sometimes. But I spent a couple of hours revamping the blog. I hope you like the new look. Moving on...
I started a job in January at a local high school. When I accepted the job, I was so sure that it was going to be very internship-esque in nature. By that, I mean that I would come in, teach, and leave after my time was served. You see, my position was temporary. Only a semester long but long enough to put another bullet on my resume which was fine by me. But something happened... Overnight, before I had a chance to blink, I fell in love. I was completely enchanted by this little school. The students were respectful with wonderful senses of humor. The faculty embraced me with open arms. And the principal reminded me of my father.
Come May, I was growing depressed. I began to pray that God would help me find a school just like the wonderful place I had so quickly fallen in love with. I hoped against hope that they would be able to keep me around. But, alas, the day came when the administration approached my classroom door. I looked into the principal's eyes and asked, "It's time. Isn't it?" He replied with a meek, "Yes, Miss Dickerson. It is."
As I sat in my classroom looking into the eyes of two men I had grown to respect, I suddenly felt like a dark cloud was over me because I didn't know what was going to happen. Would I find another job? Would I love it as much as this one? And for any of you wondering, my pink slip was not pink. It was green. Highly disappointing? Yes. Still completely unwelcome? Absolutely.
So life has moved on since then. I was offered a job 3 hours from home. I accepted only to later resign after being approved by the Board. I still feel guilty about that. But between my pink slip and my resignation, something happened.
I chaperoned church camp for the youth at my church. It was in Dayton, TN at Bryan College. The camp was called New Camp. To be honest, I had a horrible attitude going in. I didn't really want to be there. And, honestly, at that point it was sort of a disappointing last hoo-rah for me since I still believed I would be moving 3 hours away to a job I had to convince myself I wanted. I would have much rather gone to our old church camp...at the beach.
It was a typical church camp in the woods. I was a glorified kid wrangler called a "rec leader" and led a huddle group of 16-18 year olds. There was a band with a speaker and some under-seasoned food. On the outside, it was all quite mediocre. It's what happened in my heart that made all the difference in the world.
The band leader, Erik Bledsoe, during a particularly passionate prayer said, "Thank you, God, for wrecking my plans." The control freak in me had a stroke. More on this later...
God showed me on the second night there that maybe everything seemed so dreary and hopeless because I had stopped expecting Him to show up. I was just going through the motions. I was praying and asking for God to bring me happiness, to bring me a job that I loved, to bring me a Godly husband. But I wasn't actually expecting Him to do it. I was convicted.
6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do. -James 1: 6-8
Ouch. "Okay, Jesus. I get it." I was then brought to a point that I don't reach very often. God began to show me my depravity. The climax of it hit when a man named Erik Bledsoe sang a song based on the book of Hosea called "Come Back Home". Words cannot describe this song. Look it up. Now.
I began to beg God for reassurance that I was on the right path. And I expected a result. Something felt very off. When I arrived at home on Friday afternoon, I received a phone call from my apartment complex. I no longer had an apartment. This was the very opposite of reassurance. But it was good enough. I called my principal at my new school and resigned. He wasn't happy but I felt so liberated. He also didn't seem to appreciate the fact that I was quitting my job because "I don't think this is the path God wants me to take."
So here I am. I am again unemployed but more in sync with God and His plan for my life. I am more at peace now than I was when I had a job and a plan. So much of this year has been about God wrecking my plans. I make plans and God knocks them down. Six months ago, I would have been a total basket-case right here in this moment. But Christ in me makes me strong. I have nothing. I am nothing. I am zero without Jesus.
I know that God has a plan for me. As of yet, I am uninformed of said plan. I am learning to find hope in the unknown. Jesus could literally take me half way around the world between now and next week. Anything is possible. When we make ourselves available to be used by Jesus, that is when victories are won. When we expect Christ to deliver, He does. If we don't show up expecting to find Jesus, we won't. Faith is not about saying and praying one thing and displaying an attitude that illustrates something else. Faith is about hoping in what we cannot see. Jesus is at work all around us. Do we chose to believe it?
-M
So much has happened since I last spoke with you. On a completely related note, I hope to be more mindful in regularly posting. I'm so forgetful sometimes. But I spent a couple of hours revamping the blog. I hope you like the new look. Moving on...
I started a job in January at a local high school. When I accepted the job, I was so sure that it was going to be very internship-esque in nature. By that, I mean that I would come in, teach, and leave after my time was served. You see, my position was temporary. Only a semester long but long enough to put another bullet on my resume which was fine by me. But something happened... Overnight, before I had a chance to blink, I fell in love. I was completely enchanted by this little school. The students were respectful with wonderful senses of humor. The faculty embraced me with open arms. And the principal reminded me of my father.
Come May, I was growing depressed. I began to pray that God would help me find a school just like the wonderful place I had so quickly fallen in love with. I hoped against hope that they would be able to keep me around. But, alas, the day came when the administration approached my classroom door. I looked into the principal's eyes and asked, "It's time. Isn't it?" He replied with a meek, "Yes, Miss Dickerson. It is."
As I sat in my classroom looking into the eyes of two men I had grown to respect, I suddenly felt like a dark cloud was over me because I didn't know what was going to happen. Would I find another job? Would I love it as much as this one? And for any of you wondering, my pink slip was not pink. It was green. Highly disappointing? Yes. Still completely unwelcome? Absolutely.
So life has moved on since then. I was offered a job 3 hours from home. I accepted only to later resign after being approved by the Board. I still feel guilty about that. But between my pink slip and my resignation, something happened.
I chaperoned church camp for the youth at my church. It was in Dayton, TN at Bryan College. The camp was called New Camp. To be honest, I had a horrible attitude going in. I didn't really want to be there. And, honestly, at that point it was sort of a disappointing last hoo-rah for me since I still believed I would be moving 3 hours away to a job I had to convince myself I wanted. I would have much rather gone to our old church camp...at the beach.
It was a typical church camp in the woods. I was a glorified kid wrangler called a "rec leader" and led a huddle group of 16-18 year olds. There was a band with a speaker and some under-seasoned food. On the outside, it was all quite mediocre. It's what happened in my heart that made all the difference in the world.
The band leader, Erik Bledsoe, during a particularly passionate prayer said, "Thank you, God, for wrecking my plans." The control freak in me had a stroke. More on this later...
God showed me on the second night there that maybe everything seemed so dreary and hopeless because I had stopped expecting Him to show up. I was just going through the motions. I was praying and asking for God to bring me happiness, to bring me a job that I loved, to bring me a Godly husband. But I wasn't actually expecting Him to do it. I was convicted.
6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do. -James 1: 6-8
Ouch. "Okay, Jesus. I get it." I was then brought to a point that I don't reach very often. God began to show me my depravity. The climax of it hit when a man named Erik Bledsoe sang a song based on the book of Hosea called "Come Back Home". Words cannot describe this song. Look it up. Now.
I began to beg God for reassurance that I was on the right path. And I expected a result. Something felt very off. When I arrived at home on Friday afternoon, I received a phone call from my apartment complex. I no longer had an apartment. This was the very opposite of reassurance. But it was good enough. I called my principal at my new school and resigned. He wasn't happy but I felt so liberated. He also didn't seem to appreciate the fact that I was quitting my job because "I don't think this is the path God wants me to take."
So here I am. I am again unemployed but more in sync with God and His plan for my life. I am more at peace now than I was when I had a job and a plan. So much of this year has been about God wrecking my plans. I make plans and God knocks them down. Six months ago, I would have been a total basket-case right here in this moment. But Christ in me makes me strong. I have nothing. I am nothing. I am zero without Jesus.
I know that God has a plan for me. As of yet, I am uninformed of said plan. I am learning to find hope in the unknown. Jesus could literally take me half way around the world between now and next week. Anything is possible. When we make ourselves available to be used by Jesus, that is when victories are won. When we expect Christ to deliver, He does. If we don't show up expecting to find Jesus, we won't. Faith is not about saying and praying one thing and displaying an attitude that illustrates something else. Faith is about hoping in what we cannot see. Jesus is at work all around us. Do we chose to believe it?
-M
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Inconsistency...It's What I Do Best
Hello again to anyone who might be reading. So much has changed since I spoke with you last. See that? How I talk to you like you're a dear friend? (Because, truthfully, if you are a friend of Jesus, you are a friend of mine.)
Graduation has come and gone. The Christmas season is past - with my first ever White Christmas, might I add. I rang in the New Year with my closest and dearest friends. Then, I had a life changing experience. I went to Passion in Atlanta with my College group. I have been before so the going to said conference was not the most significant thing to happen. The following, however, is.
I must start by saying that because I'm so inconsistent with updating this blog, each time I post, I go back and read what I've previously written to y'all (assuming there's more than just me reading this). Now the fun part begins...
While at Passion this year, I experienced Christ, learned so much, and got taken to the "holy woodshed" more than I ever have before. Jesus really did a number on me this time. It was one of those conferences where you feel like every speaker is talking directly to you. Picture Louie Giglio standing on the stage at the Phillips Arena saying, "______, your God has a name and his name is Jesus." I experienced that over and over for four days. And this brings me to my first point...
I have always considered myself - since salvation, at least - to be a "God-fearing person". On the final morning of Passion, Louie was talking about Paul carrying the Name of Jesus where ever he went. Then, I realized right in the middle of the talk...I hardly ever say the name Jesus. Why is that? I spent the next 20 minutes of the talk wracking my brain for how many times I've ever said Jesus in a conversation. Outside of using it sarcastically (i.e., Friend, Jesus doesn't like it when you miss church.), I can't say that I ever really say His name. Then, I began to wonder why? Am I ashamed? Do I think it's uncool? Does it feel weird coming out of my mouth? I still can't answer that question. That morning, I learned that no matter where we go, no matter what we do, our sole purpose is to carry the Name of Jesus in whatever way we are able. To McDonalds, flipping burgers. To Wells Fargo, counting money. To West Morgan High School, teaching social studies. To Gigi's, making cupcakes. To Passion City Church, leading worship. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter where you go as long as you carry the Name. There it was. A major "lightbulb" moment. I needed that. It's almost like Jesus knew what I needed...Weird...
[Please note the sarcasm in that last statement. Okay, moving on...]
As I've previously confessed, I have control issues. I have to know everything about everything. This makes me a worrier. And the fact that I just graduated from college and I had some lame job that I hated (but now realize that it didn't actually matter how I felt about it as long as I carried the Name), just made things worse. I was so worried about my future. It clouded my every waking thought. However, with a large dose of David Platt, a dash of Beth Moore, a pinch of Andy Stanley, and a bucket load of prayer, I am learning to find hope in the unknown. If you know me, this is huge for me. PRAISE JESUS. David Platt talked about sacrifice - giving up everything (coughFUTUREcough) for Christ because He demands radical sacrifice. The lovely Beth Moore spoke on the renewing of the mind, thinking about old things in new ways. And, finally, Andy Stanley addressed appetites (my longing for, ahem, success).
There in the Philips Arena, as David Crowder's music bounced off the walls, suddenly, I felt peace come over me. I knew that everything was going to be okay. I belong to the Savior of the world. The only man I would ever give up my life - and my future - for.
Now, a little over a month later, I'm learning to live out my new epiphanies. Jesus showed me so much at Passion. Though I'm not on the "spiritual high" I had when I returned from Atlanta, I am growing closer to Jesus and constantly reminding myself that Jesus calls us to a life of radical sacrifice - which means that I now think twice before buying those $70 Lucky Brand Jeans. I'm also reminding myself, and asking Jesus to remind me to carry His Name. Because at the end of the day, at the close of my life, whether I finally find my husband, or whether I live in some old house with 13 cats, I will ask myself one question, have I lived in a way that will glorify the One who gave me life? Did I live a life that bore witness to my calling? Did I carry HIS NAME?
-M
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