Everyday I'm reminded of my own inabilities to do anything of worth and value in and of myself. From getting along with my family to even attempting to keep my mind pure, from trying to love those who love me to trying to try to love my self-made enemies, and from even trying to support myself and pay my bills, I'm incapable. Abba keeps reminding me of this, and how much He wants me to give it ALL to Him, not just bits and pieces of my life. The truth is, He's tired of me segregating the spiritual aspects of my life from everything else, and so am I. All of life is spiritual, every relationship, every area of hate and discord, every job interview, every shopping experience, every conversation with my family, every political opinion, every self-righteous thought - it's all connected. And He wants all of me.

In terms of salvation or even making it through the day, "With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God." Mark 10:27

I've whored with all the religious jargon lately, but have avoided the soul's Lover like a plague of doves. He's got healing in His wings. I am poison. This polluted, adulterated heart has merely cried out with not even the clarity to know what to ask for, but He already knows.


I am a shallow follower, with not even the discipline to follow Him in the tough times. I am so less than Peter.

Jesus told him to wait and pray. But Peter slept while Christ suffered.
A few months ago, Jesus repeated the call to wait and pray. Instead, I have slumbered for months.

Jesus told him that Satan wanted to sift him as wheat. "But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers."
About two weeks ago, I got the clear message that I was about to be sifted as wheat as well. That's what's been happening, and it's not over yet.

Peter denied Christ.
Likewise, I have denied Christ. Through my actions and attitude last week, I really blew it. I turned my back on the One I claim to follow and chose myself. Mom's dad was at our house this past week (it's a really long story, I assure you), and I wanted him out. I told Mom that she invited the enemy in, but I am the one who has harbored the real Enemy. I have not shown Christ, especially to her dad. Truthfully, I could not do it in and of myself, but I should've given it up to the One who could've and Who would've filled me with His love. Instead, I chose hate. I denied Christ.

That's why I'm really not ready for Africa. I want to be there so bad as I know I'm called. If I cannot even love those in my own household, that He places in my path, how dare I extend His grace to strangers? Replace this bitter heart, Lord!

I need over $500 to get there in less than a month. I went to my old church last night to try to reinvolve myself with the youth group (which is another story altogether). The VBS coordinator came up to me after youth tonight and said they were promising over $500 to the Africa fund. Whoa...
What's crazy is that this past week, someone had given me $50 and God most simply said to give it back to Him, that He'd multiply it. That He did!

In terms of returning to my home church, Ramah, I just have felt called back. A lot of it has to do with what's said in Jeremiah:
"A voice is heard in Ramah,
mourning and great weeping,
Rachel weepeing for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because her children are no more.
This is what the LORD says:
Restrain your voice from weeping
and your eyes from tears,
for your work will be rewarded,
declares the LORD.
They will return from the land of the enemy.
So there is hope for your future,"
declares the LORD."
Jeremiah 31: 15-17

In lines of learning new things, I also involved myself in a relationship that wasn't God-honoring these past few weeks (it's involved a lot longer time, actually). God just wasn't the center of it, He was kinda left out, while verbal abuse spilled forth like Niagara Falls. I know that now, as things are always so much more clear in the rearview mirror. The hardest part of breaking off relationships of any kind is the subsequent loneliness and emptiness. It's silly, too, cause I knew that God was not leading me to this person, but I settled for a substitute person, and by doing so, became one myself. "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." Proverbs 4:23. "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" Jeremiah 17:9


Death and destruction has recently surrounded me in every aspect of my life, and let me tell you, it's scary as Hell. I'm tired of going to funerals and hospitals, hearing about the death of relationships, friendships, and families. And this morning, a suicide! I love these people, and want life for them. This is obvious, but I just don't know what's coming next with all that's already gone by.


Thanks for dealing with my discombobulated mess. I love you in the love and grace of our Lord and Savior and am praying for you. I covet your prayers as well.

I remember writing this, nearly two years ago. I wrote it with a lot of bitter feelings, mixed emotions, and dare I say it, hate. I recently had to deal with the fact that I'm simply not over it. Perhaps such a realization can bring relief. There's always hope, right?

My Beloved Church,

            I am in love with you. That will never change. But I cannot join you anymore – I cannot be a part of you. We have hurt each other over petty things, and perhaps these things can be forgiven, indeed, they need and must be forgiven, but we cannot simply overlook the fact that we have hurt Him, we have overlooked and forgotten Him. He is not mentioned in our business or committee meetings anymore, in fact, the only time He is really mentioned is for a brief moment in our prayer meetings (while we’re praying) and during the service (when we’re not so worried about the order of service). We have invited Him to come, then locked all the doors. We have left Him begging on the streets. Does it not bother you that inside the walls of our edifice, exist white, middle-class, republicans, while outside lives a very different population? The doors are only a walk away, but our hearts are a thousand miles away. Do you not see how numb we are? How we have fallen asleep in the light? Oh, do you even care?  Will you let me walk away like so many others…?

            Church…oh how the word strikes a bittersweet chord in my heart; one of hope and hurt. I will never forget you – you raised me. I am a product of you. That which you love in me is you. That which you hate in me is you. There are moments that I come across even now when I think about you – I see you in me. When I doubt if you’re with me, all I have to do is wait until I get cornered for being wrong – I become a rabid animal, attacking, hateful, and prejudice, oh yes, and prideful. I take on hidden agendas and motives – no, you did not teach me to sin, but you taught me well how to cover it up by pointing it out in others. But you have also given me something I can never thank you enough for: you introduced me to my Father. For this I shall be eternally grateful, quite literally. Because of Him, I am shown liberation and freedom that truly exist apart from legalistic oppression. Christ did not come to do away with the Law, no, indeed, He came to fulfill it: He summed it up with one word: Love, then lived and died it.  We would do well to imitate the One we say we are followers of.

The baggage and deadweight that I lug behind me like a burden I must bear is one you gave me – one that I must swing down and open, pull out each piece of hay, wood, and stubble to burn in a purifying fire. I hate that all will be left is ashes. I thought that there might have been more. Perhaps the burnt lumps of coal are diamonds in the rough. Despite what I think now, I know that the time I spent with you was not in vain.

            As much as I want to walk away, I will forever be a part of you. And there’s nothing you or I can do about it. I will hear your name occasionally, laugh at its miss-pronouncement, and sigh knowing that Ramah is no longer a city of refuge with its light burning on the corner in the night. The liquor store lights are brighter. I weep over this. There are moments when everything else fades away, all the fears, faults, and hurts, and I am filled to overflowing with love for you. And I dance in the light of God’s goodness to you and to me for placing this love in my heart.

            However, I must physically leave you now. There will be a day when the light goes out at Ramah. Perhaps “Ickabod” will be inscribed over the cold threshold. There will also come a day when the hope leaves this country. We will leave with bitter weeping, if our hearts have not yet been hardened. But as hopeless as it appears, the Kingdom will remain. There is a balm in Gilead. There is a salve in salvation. Our King will rise “with healing in [His] wings.” And there is a greater purpose than a temporary land. We’ve got a homeland, my friends, don’t forget it. Don’t settle in too permanently here. Lift your eyes from your dirtied feet in a soil that betrays your flesh, to the sky and dream again. O, Beloved…

            Thank you for letting me leave you in peace. May you rest in peace. Better yet, I pray you would awake…

            Enthralled forever by His love for you,

                        Your thorn in the flesh

 

...and my fear therein…

I don’t believe I’ve ever come this close to creating a hit-list (I promise I'm just kidding - a little humor to brighten this rather dismal subject)… 

I am utterly confounded, surprised, humiliated, disgraced, disappointed, and weary concerning the whole subject of work. Never before has such a non-important issue weighed so heavily upon me, nearly encumbering the whole of my being. Dramatic, you say. I think not. 

Just so that I remember the truth and am aware of the fact when I am told otherwise: I am not lazy. I do not make a habit of being late. I do not talk too much and I desire not to be another gossiping hen working a dead-end job of shoe retail. I am not worthless and I am not stupid. I have a future (beyond the walls of boredom and box-moving).

I just really hope I don’t have to stay there much longer – insanity is always an option, right? 

Now that I have employed the use of self-help practices, I shall continue this discourse.

Lies hurt, even though they are not true. Blows at one’s character and work ethic sting because often there is something behind them, some essence of true intentions and motives on the part of the one throwing punches (especially from those who bear the name “Christian”).

With such kindness in tone can you tear someone to shreds.

Favoritism in the workplace is transparent, double-standards are obvious to the most simple, and gossip is one of the ugliest sins I’ve ever seen or taken part in.

Ask me about this if you wanna hear some complaints, otherwise, just pray for me.