"The complaint was the answer. To have heard myself making it was to be answered. Lightly men talk of saying what they mean...I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?"
--C.S. Lewis in Till We Have Faces

I have been wrestling with a question all summer: Who is Jesus? I have looked at how he lived his life here on earth, the decisions that he made, how he spoke to people, what he thought was important; and yet, I come up feeling dry. I have been babbling on, so to say, about a man named Jesus that I have come to know and trust and believe in, but I have not been saying what I really mean. Does that make sense? All this time, I have had so many things to say. So many things to set straight. So many things that just eat away at me that I fail to be touched by the life of Jesus as I once was.

It is hard to find closure to something when you know it's best you keep quiet.

How do you find closure when you can't even talk to the person about what you're trying to find closure about?

Is that even possible?

I thought it was at one time--to simply move on. I have had to do this many times--just drop something and never speak of it again. But it is so hard! It feels like you lose some of yourself when you have to do that.

But praise God that, in my weakness, I find myself closer to the throne of my King. Praise God that, in our honesty and weakness and nakedness, we are able to find comfort and peace and forgiveness. Praise God that we are not left to struggle alone.

Summer seems, to me, to be a time of healing or of destruction.

I wonder if it’s possible to have a time that is free from healing or destruction. If you’re not moving forward, you’re moving backward, right?

Two summers ago, it took me all summer to finally heal from a very destructive relationship that I was in. Although I found healing from that experience, the repercussions are still present today.

Last summer, I experienced a time of great destruction in my life. Everything that I had ever clung to or found my hope in was gone, and all I was left with was God. My life as I knew it was destroyed around me, and although I walked away a better and stronger woman, I also was deeply scarred from the experience.

This past year, after coming back from Costa Rica with basically no time to process or readjust, I was thrown into a job and living situation that was not good for my heart. I was torn down almost daily by people who called themselves my brothers in Christ, and was blindsided by a close friend. I have been told over and over again, in ways not so explicit, that I am not worth anything. I am not worth kind words. I am not worth your time. My hard work doesn’t mean anything. I am not changing anything here. Although I recognize all of these words to be lies, they still affect me deeply. They hurt me deeply.

I know that it is possible to find healing where I am right now, and I am. But I need to get away from here. I need to put some physical distance between myself and this place.

I pray that this summer will be a summer of healing for me. A time for me to truly process what I have been through in the past year, and rediscover the woman that God created me to be. I am strong, I am courageous, I am resilient, and I persevere.

Lord, help me to find You.

When there's nothing to lose and I'm fresh out of hope...

If I were to sum up what I'm feeling into two words, they would be: "I quit." There is just too much. There are too many emotions coursing through my veins, and they change in the blink of an eye without the the common courtesy to notify me first. I am caught between anger at what is going on around me and anger with myself for being angry. What a thin rope to walk.

There is just too much.

Too much is expected of me. Too much is being put on my shoulders. Too much is going on around me, and I feel powerless to stop it. I feel like I have no choice but to silently and passively wait out the storm.

But, then I take a moment. I breathe. I put on my raincoat and make my way into the storm. I move my feet, putting one in front of the other. I go into the storm and pray that it will wash me clean. That I will come out of it stronger and more resilient than when I entered it. That God will help me, despite my anger and exhaustion and sadness and passiveness, God will help me to keep on putting one foot in front of the other until there is more. Until there is more than just moving my feet, until there is more than this overwhelming feeling of helplessness. There will be joy. There will be dancing. I will cry out to my Lord, and He will be present with me and hear my cries. He will reveal to me His will for this world and show me my part in it.

I will wait on Him.

...YOU surround me.

I lie awake tonight and I watch the sky....

I feel in my heart a deep aching for everything that I once knew and everything that I know is to come. I long for some predictability, but it seems like with every turn, something new comes and knocks me off my feet. I feel like I'm struggling for air. But I know that I have been blessed, and that when I fall, I fall into the grace of Christ, who first redeemed me. I don't know where to go from here, and it is hard to imagine making it through this day. I know that I have been redeemed through the blood of Christ, and He will help me to stand. Sometimes it is just so hard.

...and I wish it didn't have to be so high.

The question that has been hanging in my mind lately is:
Where do I stand in the tension between waiting and initiating?

Clearly, God calls us to wait patiently and peacefully in Him, but it is also very clear that Jesus calls us to a radical life of initiating change in this world.

Before last summer, I had this glorious vision of what my life in this world was going to look like. I was going to go boldly where no single woman had gone before. I was going to live in a grass hut in Africa, being the change that I wanted to see in this world. I was going to fight injustice until I couldn't fight anymore.

As some of you know, I spent last summer in Alajuela, Costa Rica, working in a nutrition center for kids who couldn't afford to eat. Being alone debilitated me. My feet were knocked out from under me, as was this glorious vision I had in my mind about my weeks in Costa Rica. It took me weeks to find my footing, and when I did, I realized that it wasn't all about this driving passion that pushes you to the edges of the world and back--it is simply about remaining in God. He took my naive images of justice away and showed me the reality of what He was calling me to. I couldn't provide these kids with a safe place to sleep at night. I couldn't take care of them after they left me everyday. All I could do was hold them and feed them and show them the best love that I knew. One child at a time. I finally realized that I couldn't save the world.

So, that is where I find myself now. My passion is not extinguished, but I am not the person I was before I left. I know that God is calling me to something that will bring justice to people who don't have a voice, whether it be refugees in Africa, the impoverished farmers in South America, or children with disabilities in America. I find great peace in knowing that God will complete this work He has begun in me; that this drive and passion that is being refined day by day will be used for good.

But, for now, I am waiting in God, and striving to live each day as I think Jesus would in these shoes of mine.

Sometimes I question my decision to move down south.
I am a Norwegian-born, Lutheran girl with northern blood running through my veins. I was supposed to marry a good, tall, blonde, Norwegian boy and make Scandinavian babies to keep the tradition alive. I am supposed to be around people who know what lutefisk and lefsa and crumcaca are.

Also, sometimes I really question my future.
I love my family. A lot. Being home is my favorite place to be, although I know I'm not supposed to remain here. I lived in Costa Rica this past summer, and it was one of the hardest experiences of my life. Mostly, probably because I was alone for most of the time, and unable to find the kind of fellowship we all need to survive. But, a lot of the pain I experienced this summer, was from the separation from my family. My family represents to me a resting place. It wasn't always like this, and it has taken many years for our home to become a sanctuary, but now that is exactly what it is. It is my sanctuary. The only things I need to do here are the dishes and laundry. My mom is one of my best friends in the world, and I respect her more than I respect anyone else. When I'm home, we talk for hours. We go on walks, we sit and drink tea, we cook, we give the boys grief...this is my home. I want so desperatley to cling to what I know, what is safe. I fear going too far, although I think that is where I need to go. I have deeper fears that sometimes cripple me, when I am lying alone in bed at night. But those are things that you and I would talk about over a cup of coffee, not over some internet site where I write about what's on my mind.

Today, as is our yearly Christmas tradition, my family and I went to see a movie. We saw "Dream Girls" (which is a pretty good movie), but what got to me most was a preview we saw for "Freedom Writers." If you haven't heard of it, it's a movie about a teacher in LA who basically gives her students a fighting chance at some kind of change in their lives. She changes the whole community through the simple act of giving people a chance to be heard.

I think my problem right now is wanting to know how to get from here to there. I know where I am right now. I have a great life, a great job, a wonderful family, and amazing friends. But I have lost my drive. I have lost a sense of direction. I know what I'm going towards, but I don't know how to get from here to there. I trust, beyond a doubt, that God will be faithful to complete the work He has started in me. I know that God will not abandon me as He reveals His plan to me. But that doesn't change the fact that I feel direction-less. I love God, I am learning to believe that He loves me, but I feel like I am just taking everyday as best as I can with what He has given me. I am not a "day-to-day" person. I am a dreamer, and must work towards some higher goal, or else the day-to-day doesn't seem to mean as much. This all may make very little sense, but it is what I am struggling with before God. But, amidst all the struggle, I know that God is faithful, and that He loves me, and that is all that matters. I make one request of God before I go to bed every night:

"Show me what You want for me."

God, show me the way because the Devil trying to break me down
(Jesus walks with me)
The only thing that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now
(Jesus walks)
And I don't think there is nothing I can do now to right my wrongs
(Jesus walks with me)
I want to talk to God, but I'm afraid because we ain't spoke in so long

To the hustlers, killers, murderers, drug dealers, even the strippers
(Jesus walks with them)
To the victims of welfare for we living in hell here, hell yeah
(Jesus walks with them)
Now hear ye hear ye want to see Thee more clearly
I know He hear me when my feet get weary
'Cause we're the almost nearly extinct
We rappers are role models we rap, we don't think
I ain't here to argue about his facial features
Or here to convert atheists into believers
I'm just trying to say the way school needs teachers
The way Kathie Lee needed Regis, that's they way y'all need Jesus
So here go my single dog radio needs this
They say you can rap about anything except for Jesus
That means guns, sex, lies, video taps
But if I talk about God, my record won't get played, huh?
Well, let this take away from my spins
Which will probably take away from my ends
Then I hope this take away from my sins
And bring the day that I'm dreaming about
Next time I'm in the club, everybody screaming out
Jesus Walks

--Kanye West