{faith jam} what i know now. . .

August 19, 2012 in brokenness, courage, faith, God, His voice., hope, joy, pain, story with 6 Comments

i’m tardy to the party, but today i am joining bonnie at faith barista.  last week, a friend emailed me her post and i was reminded me that the when it all seems crazy and life is filled with confusion, like bonnie, i need to write.  so here i am, putting words to the screen and sharing again. . .

{today’s prompt}: “what i know now. . .” a letter to our younger selves.

————————————————————————

dear lauren,

the next ten years of life will hold some of the greatest joy and sorrow one can imagine.  if i told you now what you’ll live through, you wouldn’t believe me.  sometimes i don’t when i look back.

at moments you will want to give up.  you should. 

you aren’t going to be able to survive what is coming in your own strength.  when the earth begins to shake and your world comes crashing down, throw your hands in the air.  don’t grasp white-knuckled to your perceived happily ever afters.  hit your knees.  put your face to the carpet.  stretch out your arms.  and just say His name.

when you can no longer form words between your tears, just groan.  you’ll find Jesus there.  the Person.  a relentless lover of your soul.  not the felt-board version you thought you knew.

He’s already there.  He will carry you.  picking up your limbs and literally pulling them from bed.  then He will gently place your broken feet upon solid ground again.  Holding your hand tight as you stumble and fall.  but then He will ask the unimaginable. 

He is going to tell you to dance. 

you’ll laugh.  and scoff.  scream.  and fling your fist into the air more than once.  but then He’ll gently grab your fingers and lead.  placing His arm around your middle and teaching you how to step and then spin into the next chapter of your story.

let Him.

and as you dance into the next chapter keep your hands open and arms high.  above all else, say ‘yes’.  no matter what He asks.

joy will come.  not in a bolt of lightening but rather in each little step.  you won’t awaken with a paradigm shift.  joy will creep in day by day.  taking root deep within your soul and invading your person.

as joy invades, you will look around and realize your life is absolutely beautiful.  hindsight will become 20-20.  and you will see. . .

in the midst of your greatest heartbreak He was orchestrating your greatest growth. 

and believe it or not, you will say ‘thank you.’

you’ll find your crazy, once timid self joyously dancing 3,000 miles from home on a friday night.  with new friends who are now family.  screaming, arms outstretched. . .

i’ve got the joy, i’ve got the joy, i’ve got the joy.

and you’ll mean it.  the joy will overflow from your heart onto your cheeks.

don’t believe me?  just wait. . .

. . .it’s going to be a wild ride.

what would you say in a letter to your younger self?

 

letting go. . .

June 28, 2012 in california, choices, courage, fear, friends, jobs, moving, obedience with 2 Comments

nobody likes letting go.  from our earliest moments – from birth until we’re six feet under, our instinct is to

grab

grip

cling.

to a finger, a bottle, a best friend.  to a faded old racing form.  sometimes we hold on for dear life to the very things that actually keep us from living it.  but that comes with an upside.  it’s the way we feel when we finally let go.

the trick i guess is to not find a way around the curve balls life serves up, but to live with them.  a halfway happy uneasy alliance.  and to search for new things to cling to.  and when you finally find them to hang on just as tight.  and around and around we go.  holding on until the time comes to say goodbye.  and like it or not, ready or not, you have to accept one universal truth.

life is messy.

always and for all of us.  but a wise man once said, “maybe messy is what you need.”  and i think he might be right.”

. . .in plain sight, series finale

the time had come to say goodbye.  or rather my preferred version of ‘see you later.’  my once cluttered walls stood bare.  hole’s a testament to living.  a room once filled with life was full of boxes and suitcases.  holding my things.  but not my heart.

my heart found so much along the left coast.

healing.

community.

family.

and a life all my own.  excitement and dreams fulfilled stood before me yet i was petrified to go.  afraid to leave the new comfortable of me i’d discovered on the left coast.  scared to leave my heart along the cliffs lining laguna.  now recrafed, reformed, and redeemed.

living far from your roots is hard.  but the easiest decision would have been to stay.  to continue life in paradise.  but the door to opportunity had knocked hard and it was time to walk through it.

it was sunny.  with an occasional rain.  tiny seed of hope and faith growing with roots deep.  soil tilled and nurtured from this season.  but the spring had ended and it was time to turn my eyes toward summer.  allowing the hot, humid sun to create beads of hard earned sweat along my brow.

and if i continued to cling to spring as summer arrived, i’d squeeze the life out of so much good.  it was time to let go, to keep living.  to leave the comfortable knowing and blaze the unknown.

living again in the tension. . .

. . .with resistance perfectly measured from above.

seasons. . .

April 26, 2012 in brokenness, california, choices, duh., moving with 2 Comments

you never know when a season is going to end.

life can change with a call. 

an email. 

a text. 

a glance.

change cannot be anticipated.  it almost always comes as a surprise.  tornado tearing through the unsuspecting town of our hearts.

so wherever you find yourself today,

soak it in.

spend more time outside.  thank God for the annoyances.  praise Him for the good that is coming.  tell Him how beautiful the sunset is.  how much you love the ocean.  and how grateful you are for the souls that He’s intermingled into your story.

soak in the good the bad and the ugly of this season.  because today could quite possibly be the last day you get to enjoy it.

for me, i am spending extra moments on the trails.  allowing the icy pacific to tickle my toes.  face turned toward the southern california sun.  i am opening my sunroof, rolling down my windows, enjoying the view of the mountains as i sit in endless traffic.  thanking God for rain that turns mountains to snowcaps.  and clears the air over the pacific.  allowing catalina and the seemingly endless ocean come into view.

i am thanking him for people.  those i like and those i don’t.  because the truth is they all have something to teach.  and i’m ever ready to learn.  intent on living this season to the fullest if does indeed end tomorrow.

today is a gift. 

. . .and i’m determined to enjoy it.

my insecurity won today. . .

April 24, 2012 in brokenness, choices, courage, faith, lies., spiritual warfare with 1 Comment

my insecurity won today.

in a miscommunicated appointment

a missed callback.

changed schedule.

it won in the mirror and the dressing room.  it held me back from fun and pushed those i love most away.  it almost kept me in my couch.  but with a force beyond what my flesh could muster my limbs were peeled off the couch and into leggings.  as i glanced in the mirror defeat was etched along the lines on my face.  battle weary on my sleeve.  afraid of the piercing eyes of those who know me.  realizing a hug may shatter my bravado.

Shekinah glory met me first.

wind blowing into the barren chambers of my heart.  destroying cobwebs and bringing me to my knees.  before knowing looks pierced deep seeing the hurt and pain.

i’m where i’m supposed to be.  again broken.  spotlight illuminating edges that would pierce for a lifetime if left unattended.  unhealed.  bringing to light the places literally killing me.  illuminating mis-truths borne deep in my heart. . .

many days i don’t feel beautiful.

i don’t feel loved.  or lovable.

i don’t feel as if i will ever be enough.

i cannot imagine how friends, much less a man, could ever sign up for me.  my heart is cracking and breaking.  and at times i’m unsure if anyone sees, hears, or cares.  yet i’m stupid enough to push away those close enough to see.

i am scared to be known.

because if i again find myself known then rejected, i am certain my scarred heart won’t survive.  and i’ll find myself in the familiar desert.

alone.

starving.

and broken.

. . .my insecurity won today, but tomorrow i’m telling it the truth

beautiful.

broken.

loved.

enough.

i call her grace. . .

February 14, 2012 in choices, courage, Family, friends, grace with 2 Comments

as her heart breaks she overflows grace.  heart shattered by the actions of another.  yet still. . .

hoping. 

believing. 

knowing.

her Jesus is for her.

i call her grace.

as she fights and struggles.  not knowing the answers but knowing the Author.  knees calloused.  cheeks tearstained.  heart open.

i call her grace.

as her ashes turn to beauty.  heart thriving in the tension of devastation and His forthcoming healing.  she can’t see it but it’s there.  heart-soil tilled with hard.  seed planted with roots growing deep.

i call her grace.

as she is wronged again.  unfair overwelming.   she chooses Jesus.  preferring injustice for herself in favor of His best.  laying desires down in exchange for mercy, grace, and forgiveness.

i call her grace.

as she locks arms with me in my hard.  in spite of the storm raging in the depths of her heart.  she chooses to stay awhile.  through the good, the bad, the happy, and sad.

she is. . .

grace.

sister.

friend.

who is grace to you?

not giving up. . .

January 17, 2012 in brokenness, california, choices, friends, moving, pain, suffering with 6 Comments

‘what are you giving up on that you shouldn’t be?’

words escaping from my pastors lips as He whispered in my heart.

california.

giving up on my life here.  on cultivating relationships and building community.  throwing in the towel on this season.  making the excuse that it isn’t home.  that i’ll never fit into the plastic mold that seems to be the norm.  heart desiring the comfort and ease of home.  looking back to my holiday and coveting the ease of being me. 

i’ve spent thousands of dollars in counseling getting comfortable with who He created me to be.

but all it takes is stepping off a plane to revert back into so many insecurities.  insecurities i believed had been healed.

living as a watered down version of me is exhausting.  but even though i see it, i can’t stop it.  desiring acceptance and assimilation with the culture.  yet knowing i was never meant to blend in to the background. . .

i’ve always been made to stand out.

a trait i’ve always loved.  a unique story.  intermingled with perspective birthed through seasons of great pain and suffering.  a lover of different.  but here i stand.  trying to fit into a plastic mold.  becoming the proverbial status quo.

wondering how to translate the comfortable me that twirls, dances, and runs into life east of the mississippi to this coast. 

i need to fight.  for relationship and those He’s placed in my path.  cultivating the soil of the present.  eyes fixed on the now.

the truth is community doesn’t come instantly.  and the comfort of community i feel at home took twenty-something years to establish.  complete with blood, sweat, and our fair share of tears.

knowing if/when the time comes to head home i will have lived this season for all it’s worth. . .

. . .better prepared for the next right step.

i’m going to pass the question on to you. . .

what are you giving up on that you shouldn’t be?

{one word} wait. . .

January 12, 2012 in brokenness, choices, faith, obedience, one word. with 2 Comments

choosing my oneword for 2012 has been hard.  but not for the reasons you may suspect.  i’ve known my word’s name for weeks.  fighting it as His choice after the journey i’ve taken with courage.  knowing that declaring the word He’s whispered may indeed mean a journey i’m not yet ready for.

wait.

my own personal four letter word.  found in the crux of the verse He gave my parents for me at birth.

but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.
-isaiah 40.31

truth i love to hate.  mind refusing to accept that maybe for the next 365 days, God is asking me to wait. . .

on Him.

for Him.

with Him.

gently nudging my heart to sit down.  as he washes my feet.  humbling a heart that loves nothing more than control.  next steps known.  complete with a blueprint.

waiting has implied it’s a state of doing nothing.  but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.

waiting isn’t apathetic. it’s active.

my past 365 days required courage to begin healing.  it is now time to be still awaiting completion.  wounds casted and stitched.  but now requiring time.  growing stronger where broken.  and the length of mending my broken bones isn’t packaged in a pretty six weeks with a stinky cast.

taking a deep breath and ceasing my striving.  looking and finding contentment in the now instead of reaching towards the next best thing.  watering the dusty ground of my heart.  allowing the me He’s created to root deep and grow.  cultivating the details my story, heart turning towards His light for what’s next.

racing ahead, wind blowing hurricane-force into the future will uproot the shoot sprouting from the broken earth of my heart.  it’s time to prepare the fields. . .

. . .knowing He will bring the rain.

what is your oneword?  has the Lord ever called you to a season of wait?

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