Break Down

Sometimes it's easier to destroy something completely and start over than it is to fix the damage done.

Ever watch the show "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition"?  I know, it's a little 5 years ago.  The point is still valid.  For those who have been deprived of this sob-inducing goodness, the premise of the show is that the staff find a family in desperate need of a help in fixing their home.  The first episodes usually involved fixing the bones of an older or worn down home, and typically building an addition to help the family.  The more recent episodes rarely salvage much from the primary structure, because it's much easier to start from scratch than to work around what's falling apart.  Makes perfect sense.

Sunday at church Pastor Danny was speaking out of Haggai, which is a book I honestly have never had the desire to read.  When I try to read through the OT chronologically, I get discouraged by the Kings.  I've always known Haggai was there but it's never been high on my priority reading list.  God scolds the Israelites for being stupid yet again.  Hmmm...  In order to understand what's going on in Haggai, you have to understand the story of the Israelites.  You know -- the one where God had this sweet plan of incredible promise, and the people managed to screw it up because they thought they knew better.  Funny.  I seem to know that story well.  Too well, really.  It's my story too.

Luckily for the Israelites and for me, God is good.  He doesn't flake out just because the going gets tough.  That doesn't mean that He'll let us keep floundering in our mistakes or in the consequences they bring.  Sometimes it means He has to break down what we've put up.  Sometimes it means He has to break down what He's put up.  Either way, it's so He can rebuild well.  Maybe it's a friendship.  Maybe it's a relationship.  Maybe it's a hope, a dream or a passion.  Or maybe it's an entire being.

Either way, I'm ready to be broken.

I'm Not an Uninspiring Dewdrop.

When is conviction not enough?  Is there ever a point where God's calling isn't enough to rationalize doing something?  Are there ever too many hurdles or too much impending drama?  Are there bridges He can't mend?  Is there a point where God's will changes?  Is God disappointed in us for misunderstanding Him the way we become disappointed when others don't understand us?  Does God tell us His will years in advance so we have time to prepare?  Is that deja vu?  Or do we simply not understand it because we're not ready?  The God of the impossible is more than capable of handling the possible if only we let Him.  So let Him.

Merry-Go-Round

Last night a few friends and I ventured to the nearby city of Berkeley for a dinner of fondue and watery wine. Two of the others handled most of the planning, and I was surprisingly content with allowing someone else make decisions on my behalf. That is, I was content until I discovered that visiting Tilden Park would not be among our adventures for the evening.

To say I was devastated would be an exaggeration, but only a slight one. I don't know what it is about that park. I just love it. The merry-go-round is a merry-go-round much like every other I've ridden. It's surrounded by stand after stand of ornament vendors of things I'm sure will never fit the decor of my tree and yet seem so appealing. Hot cider tastes better, even if it's the same package I use at home. Something about the lights and anticipation of tradition gets me excited anytime I hear the park's name. I've never fought at Tilden Park. I've never been disappointed or angry. It's almost as though there is a magical protection keeping the sacred grounds from any 'bah humbug' spirits. I'm glad Christmas spirit is safe somewhere.

Faithful Father

Yesterday I waltzed into church a few minutes late expecting to slide into my normal row surrounded by my normal congregation members and worship in my normal way.  Ha!  As soon as I walked in, one of the ushers, who happens to be the father of an old friend, seated me next to her and their family.  "Ok, God, I get your point," I muttered to myself as I remembered back on our broken relationship.  We were friends in high school.  WERE is the key word.  There came an end.  See, she managed to turn my whole group of friends against me, exiling me in the middle of my senior year.  I was less than thrilled with the situation, and despite our multiple attempts at repairing the riff created, we've only recently begun to talk.

When the sermon began, I was struggling to connect and focus.  As Danny discussed basic apologetics from the pulpit, my mind began wandering.  I'd heard this before.  Then I realized what I was doing.  I was allowing the amazing goodness of God to become commonplace.  I'd traveled beyond a place of expecting God to move in amazing ways to a complacency with His awesome power.  As we talked about prophecies made hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus and the improbability of it happening by chance, I was reminded that I take for granted the faithfulness of our Savior.  He promised that He would atone for sin.  He promised that the King was coming.  He promised to provide for His people.  And He did.

I've got plenty of people in my life who have failed me.  In fact, I was sitting right next to one.  The beauty and love of God's perfect faithfulness is made unbelievable by our inability to show the same quality.  No person can ever be as faithful as God is.  What He says stands and it doesn't change, despite how much we may sometimes hope it will.  What you see is what you get with Him.

Thank goodness.  Actually, thank God.

Why Bother?

For the last year and a half, I've reconsidered not moving to Colorado. Almost as soon as I informed them I wouldn't be joining them for my planned internship, I wanted to call them back and pretend it had all been a joke. I knew God was leading me to stay, but I was bitter at Him for keeping me in the tri-valley area, especially after everything I felt like He'd dragged me through. I'd spent my summer preparing myself to be on my own, and had already thought through how I would reestablish myself in this place where no one knew anything about me except what I told them. I was mad at His timing and for allowing other issues to seemingly motivate my staying. All I wanted was the freedom to establish myself in Him and in ministry apart from my ties here. I've wondered countless times if I really did hear His voice. Granted, I'm really good by now at the presentation of the story where God told me His will, I followed it, and everything worked out perfectly, but honestly it's so far from the truth I feel like I'm lying each time I tell it. But what if I was wrong? It rarely ever happens (wink, wink) but there's always an exception to the rule, right?

Then again, I think I'd rather be here wondering if I misheard than have heard correctly and ignore it completely. Lately I've been thinking a lot about Jonah. I've blogged about him before, and I'll probably do it again because I'm pretty sure we're so similar it's scary. A large part of why I've been thinking about him lately relates back to following God's will when we're confronted with it. What if I had actually heard God's voice and had chosen to act in opposition to that? I'm struggling to even think of what good could have come, which is probably a good thing. Jonah had no clue of what was coming his way when God commanded him to go to Nineveh and he chose a safer, easier path. He had no idea it would land him in the belly of a fish. Where would it have landed me?

How often do we all make little decisions knowing they are in opposition to God's will? We know what He wants for us or what He has for us, but it seems so foolish or impossible so we attempt to find happiness our own way. For years people have thought me a fool for some of my convictions. I've seen visions that cause reactions that make others think I'm crazy. I've heard things I'd never believe coming from the mouth of others. I know that what He has convicted me of is true. I'm just tired of waiting for others who claim the same things while they act like it's never happened and it's insignificant. Maybe this is another time of learning patience. Pretty much sure God's never going to let me off the hook with that one.

Unanswered Questions

Do you ever feel like the answer to one question clarifies a situation just enough to leave you with 100 new questions?  Most of my faith journey has been spent this way, from trying to understand the concept of unconditional love to figuring out humility.  If you look at love, for example, the Bible tells you directly what it is in 1 Corinthians.  However, as nice as that definition is, it requires you to know what patience, kindness, humility and other such terms mean.  Not so nice.

Lately I've been discovering that my relationships in life are exactly the same way.  A friend and I sat down and were talking after months of being rather horrible to each other.  The major reason I'd wanted to talk with him was to figure out if we were or could get along and actually fulfill our title as friends.  As I drove home, I realized that from the simple question had stemmed so many more, and yet I'd lost the opportunity to ask them.  He's not particularly going anywhere, but the moment of freedom and honesty was gone.  The more I process our conversation, the more questions arise confusing me more.

I wonder if the same thing is true about our relationship with the Savior.  In the moments of honesty and truth, do we get so wrapped up in having an answer that we forget to think of the hundreds of new questions that will follow?  I pray that my relationship with Him would be so intimate that we never leave a state of truth sharing.

Maybe then my human relationships will follow suit.

Bartender

Addendum

Common known fact:  I work in a doctor's office.
Slightly less known fact, but still a fact nonetheless:  Sometimes we get addendums to reports.

Here's the addendum to this blog.

I really am happy.  Despite the fact that I'm bursting at the seams with humble pie and I'm struggling to keep my social life functioning, I'm actually really content.  God and I are at a good place.  I'm not jumping for joy at my grades or lack of free time, but I've found my niche in society where no one gets mad at me for asking "Why?" fifteen times in a row.  The restaurant isn't the end-all-be-all of jobs right now, but it pays the bills and is actually kind of fun.  School is a struggle, but for the first time in a year and a half (if not much, much longer) I actually have to work towards a goal.  I have to study and use the brain I've been blessed with.  It's good.

Just thought you all should know.

Humble Pie

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, mostly because of the food. My favorite parts? Stuffing, leftovers and PIE. As we've transitioned into fall my excitement for the BBQ turkey and potato salad have been growing, but not nearly as much as my anticipation for dessert. I even did what I could to twist arms into baking extra pies simply so I could indulge even more. As I whet my palate for the nutmeg-filled, whipped-cream-topped, flakey-crusted pumpkin goodness that awaits me, I've been served a very different kind of pie: the humble kind.

You see, I've never met a challenge I couldn't beat. Granted, I haven't always handled them as gracefully as I would like (namely food for houseboats), but in the end, I somehow always pull through. The second (and third and fourth...) winds of energy flow from nowhere encouraging me to keep working and keep striving.

Until now.

I'm at a breaking point. I think. Four months ago I discovered the profession made for me. It's a long-standing, well established discipline and I'm now fighting to find my place in it. I have at least two years of prerequisites in order to simply have a chance of getting into the required schooling, which will take more than another few years. I'll exit only to find myself in an internship of sorts for the next two or more years. I figured I would simply waltz back into classes and suddenly find my place again. I've always been an A student, with an occasional B from a lack of trying and a total of 3 Cs in my lifetime. This may be all about to change. I spend my nights with my nose in textbooks, and instead of listening to music as I drive I listen to lectures on electron transfer and kinetechores (pronouced kinetic-whores -- I'm still trying to find a good mnemonic to help me remeber what it does, but I can't get the whore part out of my mind long enough to be serious). As much as I'm expecting my studying to pay off, it doesn't seem to be making a difference. My goal for the next two years was to get a perfect 4.0 or something really close to it. Now I'm struggling to get an A in any one of my classes. For one of the first times in my life, there's something that I want and I'm not sure how to go about getting it. Apparently this fall I'll be enjoying a nice big slice of humble pie right alongside my pumkin. Great. Bah Humbug.

Not Good Enough

"The world bursts at the seams with people ready to tell you you’re not good enough. On occasion, some may be correct. But do not do their work for them. Seek any jobs; ask anyone out; pursue any goal. Don’t take it personally when they say 'no'—they may not be smart enough to say 'yes'."

--Keith Olbermann

For as long as I can remember, my mother would compare me to anyone or anything she could.  I would become frustrated and angry, but she relentlessly continued to the point of it affecting our relationship so deeply that we are not currently in communication.  I realized that until I either (a) no longer needed comparison to feel like a valid and worthy human being, or (b) could compare myself to the One worth the comparison that it would continue to tear me apart to hear her comments.  Guess what.  The old comments are still doing a mightily fine job of tearing me apart.

The quote at the top was on my coffee cup a few months ago, and it now resides on the bulletin board above my bed as a constant reminder.  I'm desperately afraid that I won't be good enough to pursue my dreams.  I'm afraid someone will find a flaw in me so great that they can't love me.  I'm afraid the schools will find a hole in my resume or I'll be too cliche, or even worse, simply not up to their standard.  I'm afraid that if I can't find the perfect Christmas gifts or know the right thing to say at the right time, the families that have so graciously taken me in as their own will suddenly treat me the way my own does, as an outcast who's simply not good enough.  Thankfully, each and every time I spiral down the path of destruction, I'm reminded that my acceptance into a school doesn't change who I am.  It doesn't change the way my Father looks at me.  It doesn't change the truth of the love I'm here to share.  And He knows that in those moments I'm struggling to find who He is as I try to find myself in Him.