While planning to leave my home in California for this beautiful state called Georgia I had big dreams for school. It pretty much revolved around the scene of Legally Blonde where Elle arrives at Harvard in a convertible car toting a mini dog named Bruiser. I had visions of sitting behind dark wood desks in classes with seasoned professors wearing bow ties and tweed jackets. They would daily give the most interesting and engaging lectures and after I would spend hours in a huge old library studying and doing homework to my hearts content. To my school fantasy I also added hours and hours of debates with fellow students about Christianity, politics, religion and ministries.
Fast forward to reality. Instead I am surrounded by mostly juvenile 18 year old children, more concerned about Mrs. degrees and hiding their pot habits from coaches than about homework, let alone what's happening to children in sex trafficing. I have yet to have a real conversation about God, love, missions, etc. Everyone here seems keen to impress and flaunt their "Christian accomplishments" and hard pressed to do anything that really drives them. How easy it is to get lost in a world full of Christians sitting on their hands. I daily forget why I am here in the first place. I desire to know my God. To know what I'm standing for and believing in, but at what cost? Is it worth staying here for 4 long years to get a piece of paper saying I know enough about ministry in the church? I took this step as a way of striking out on my own path with Christ. Following Him and his lead in my life...into the unknown, I said. Except now I don't see the path. All I see is darkness. I'm frozen in fear. Have I strayed from the path I so emphatically set upon?
I need you, you are all I'm living for, Jesus.
I feel stuck. This isn't what I ordered. This isn't what I signed up for? Is this really what you wanted for me? Was your path really for me to leave my friends, church and family who have taught me to accept, love and see past wounds and brokenness, to live vibrantly for You and plop me down into the midst of a bunch of do-gooders? I am so exasperated by the inactive religion around me. How do I change it? How do I keep going when I just want to scream at them all? Where is the line of acceptance and intolerance? Lord, I need your grace in my life and your fire in my soul. To do Your will, not mine.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Big City Wimp
It seems strange to speak ill of my beloved home land but the longer I live in the South the more I realize what a California wimp I really am. I still can't imagine loving another place on earth as much as I love that dysfunctional golden coast. Everyone dreams of "heading west" to beautiful sunny and warm California. There are epic songs about our beaches, sunsets and surf spots. California has its issues like any other state but generally speaking here, it's where people want to go. It's a romanticized state. (Ever see the commercial the Schwarzenegger's did on visiting CA?)
Last night I was home alone, laying on the floor in the living room when I notice something out of the corner of my eye move quickly. In a matter of seconds I am up off the floor, shoe in hand (I wasn't wearing shoes and I'm not entirely sure where said shoe even came from) and down the hall to my room. My domain of protection. I apparently believe my room has a bug force field or why else would I go there first? It took me 10 minutes and several attempts of sneaking around corners before the unknown creature was flattened with my Adidas running shoe. I still have no idea what it was, which is not uncommon in my apartment, sadly. It seems here in Georgia bugs are as friendly as the little old church lady handing out programs. One smile in her general direction and suddenly you're in her living room for lunch and a game of bridge. Bah! Curse you and your friendliness! California has taught a lot of things. If the earth were to ever quake I think I'd be the only Georgian not to assume the world was ending. I can weave in and out of traffic better than any of those NASCAR drivers, I know enough car games to survive "Carmageddon" (that's an LA term - you'll have to google it.), I can walk miles in heels, fight the lines on Black Friday, I have the Starbucks menu memorized and I have at least 10 different kinds of sunscreen and tanning lotion and 3 kinds of after sun, or sun burn lotion. But what do I do with millipedes and crickets in the hallway? And what shoes, in my vast shoe collection, can I wear when everyone wants to go for hike at midnight? No freaking clue. Hi, I'm Amy, and I'm a California pansy.
I've heard a vast amount of country songs singing about the strength of a Southern woman. She grew up riding rusty trackers and played in the mud, she loves a man in wrangler jeans, she can change a tire on that '65 Ford and pluck a chicken for dinner, she loves "corn bread and fried chicken" and can gulp sweet tea like it's going out of style (I seriously wish it would...*gag*.) And I want to be her. I do! Ok, no I don't. I still prefer my black Steve Madden pumps to work boots (Actually the thought of wearing work boots gives me hives.) and I would rather watch paint dry than go for a hike in the woods at midnight (Katie loves when I say, "AH! Nature...it's touching me!)
but I can now appreciate the difference. This is me, growing. Who knew?
God continues to surprise me in this place. I feel that every day here I touch on at least 20 different emotions for elated happiness to extreme sadness. Which may seem cause for concern to some but really it's just me sorting things out. I hate waiting. More than most people. "I have an app for that" was created for people like me! In fact the other night, while I was waiting for an app on my phone to load I was playing a solitaire app game on my iTouch. How is that for extreme inpatients?! It's a problem, and I should join a support group but I'm to impatient to wait for someone to join me in one. I am running out of options here in Georgia. I can't afford to stay but I can't afford to leave. I can't afford to pay my bills or at this point, buy groceries and yet God quietly whispers, "Sit still daughter." "Nooo!" I scream as I pace back and forth. I must do something! Go somewhere. Buy something. Sell something. Invent something. Anything but sit still! I need a job, I need a miracle, I need...I don't even know what I need anymore. I keep trying to distract myself. I'm really good at that. I even went for a run the other day just to get out of my quiet apartment. Me! Running?! This is a serious problem. I keep trying to fix it. Then I give up. I realize nothing I come up with will save me from drowning in time. No life raft is appearing and I'm running out of energy to swim. "Sit still daughter." He whispers again. I throw up my hands in defeat and grumble a grudging, "FINE." But the moment I sit I look to God. "Hello! I'm sitting still! Now where's my life raft?!" Then I'm up again, pacing back and forth.
Lamentations 3:26
it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.
It is good to wait quietly. Hmmm...another thing life in metro California taught me. Never sit still. There's so much to do! And we must cram it all into our short little lives. ALL of it!!! Go! Hurry! So here in the South, where it seems life is done much slower, I must learn to wait, quietly, for my LORD. Quietly. Waiting...in the quiet. This might take some time.
(Please note: my assumptions of CA and GA as a whole are MY own assumptions are in no way meant to be derogatory or rude.)
Last night I was home alone, laying on the floor in the living room when I notice something out of the corner of my eye move quickly. In a matter of seconds I am up off the floor, shoe in hand (I wasn't wearing shoes and I'm not entirely sure where said shoe even came from) and down the hall to my room. My domain of protection. I apparently believe my room has a bug force field or why else would I go there first? It took me 10 minutes and several attempts of sneaking around corners before the unknown creature was flattened with my Adidas running shoe. I still have no idea what it was, which is not uncommon in my apartment, sadly. It seems here in Georgia bugs are as friendly as the little old church lady handing out programs. One smile in her general direction and suddenly you're in her living room for lunch and a game of bridge. Bah! Curse you and your friendliness! California has taught a lot of things. If the earth were to ever quake I think I'd be the only Georgian not to assume the world was ending. I can weave in and out of traffic better than any of those NASCAR drivers, I know enough car games to survive "Carmageddon" (that's an LA term - you'll have to google it.), I can walk miles in heels, fight the lines on Black Friday, I have the Starbucks menu memorized and I have at least 10 different kinds of sunscreen and tanning lotion and 3 kinds of after sun, or sun burn lotion. But what do I do with millipedes and crickets in the hallway? And what shoes, in my vast shoe collection, can I wear when everyone wants to go for hike at midnight? No freaking clue. Hi, I'm Amy, and I'm a California pansy.
I've heard a vast amount of country songs singing about the strength of a Southern woman. She grew up riding rusty trackers and played in the mud, she loves a man in wrangler jeans, she can change a tire on that '65 Ford and pluck a chicken for dinner, she loves "corn bread and fried chicken" and can gulp sweet tea like it's going out of style (I seriously wish it would...*gag*.) And I want to be her. I do! Ok, no I don't. I still prefer my black Steve Madden pumps to work boots (Actually the thought of wearing work boots gives me hives.) and I would rather watch paint dry than go for a hike in the woods at midnight (Katie loves when I say, "AH! Nature...it's touching me!)
but I can now appreciate the difference. This is me, growing. Who knew?
God continues to surprise me in this place. I feel that every day here I touch on at least 20 different emotions for elated happiness to extreme sadness. Which may seem cause for concern to some but really it's just me sorting things out. I hate waiting. More than most people. "I have an app for that" was created for people like me! In fact the other night, while I was waiting for an app on my phone to load I was playing a solitaire app game on my iTouch. How is that for extreme inpatients?! It's a problem, and I should join a support group but I'm to impatient to wait for someone to join me in one. I am running out of options here in Georgia. I can't afford to stay but I can't afford to leave. I can't afford to pay my bills or at this point, buy groceries and yet God quietly whispers, "Sit still daughter." "Nooo!" I scream as I pace back and forth. I must do something! Go somewhere. Buy something. Sell something. Invent something. Anything but sit still! I need a job, I need a miracle, I need...I don't even know what I need anymore. I keep trying to distract myself. I'm really good at that. I even went for a run the other day just to get out of my quiet apartment. Me! Running?! This is a serious problem. I keep trying to fix it. Then I give up. I realize nothing I come up with will save me from drowning in time. No life raft is appearing and I'm running out of energy to swim. "Sit still daughter." He whispers again. I throw up my hands in defeat and grumble a grudging, "FINE." But the moment I sit I look to God. "Hello! I'm sitting still! Now where's my life raft?!" Then I'm up again, pacing back and forth.
Lamentations 3:26
it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.
It is good to wait quietly. Hmmm...another thing life in metro California taught me. Never sit still. There's so much to do! And we must cram it all into our short little lives. ALL of it!!! Go! Hurry! So here in the South, where it seems life is done much slower, I must learn to wait, quietly, for my LORD. Quietly. Waiting...in the quiet. This might take some time.
(Please note: my assumptions of CA and GA as a whole are MY own assumptions are in no way meant to be derogatory or rude.)
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
How do you get to Georgia?
Well, I made it to Georgia! Sometimes I still have to remind myself that I'm not driving around California anymore. I see someone I think I know then realize I literally only know half a dozen people in this whole state. Sometimes that knowledge is overwhelming. And other times is exciting. Here's how I got here...in the middle of nowhere going to school to learn about Jesus.
A year ago I was sitting at work messing with an excel spreadsheet and I thought, "wow, I do not want to do this the rest of my life." So much of my early twenties was about surviving. In and out of hospitals, physical therapy and doctors offices, To be normal was my goal. I just wanted a normal boring everyday job. And I made it. The problem was I wasn't being challenged, moved or growing in any way. So, I don't want to sit at a desk answering phones and filling folders the rest of my life. What do I want to do? I had no idea where to start except to pray that exact question. "What do you want with my life, God?" What am I good at? What could I do where I would wake up every morning and not hate what I spend most of the day doing? I'm so impatient! I was ready for God to answer me that day. And when He did, I just became more obsessed. "What am I going to do?!!!!" On my right shoulder blade is a tattoo of the verse Philippians 4:6 "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, through thanksgiving, present your requests to God." I memorized this verse a long time ago and it never ceases to pop up in almost any situation. The phrase "present your requests to God" suddenly meant something different than before. I could ASK God for something I wanted. Granted, this isn't like asking Santa for a pink pony (Because I NEVER did that...) but if there was something I truly desired I could ask for it. So I did. I wanted to go back to school. Full time. To spend my days learning, being challenged, thinking, studying, and ultimately being prepared for something He would call me to. So I prayed for school. I had no idea how it would work. School is expensive and full time would mean I wouldn't be able to hold the job I had (not that it was hard to let go of that!) But who am I to question God? Now, had I known just exactly I what I was asking for I NEVER would have uttered that prayer. It seemed easy enough to me? I was surrounded by supportive friends, family and a church that would encourage me as much as possible. What could go wrong? HA!
"What gives value to travel is fear. it is the fact that, a certain moment, when we are so far from our own country we are seized by a vague fear, and an instinctive desire to go back to the protection of old habits. This is the most obvious benefit of travel. At that moment we are feverish but also porous." Albert Camus.
I have felt this fear for almost a month straight now. My decision to ask to go back to school was made on a romanticized ideal of studying in a cozy library for hours in the afternoon and sitting before captivating professors all day. Instead God asked me to give up the comfort of my home base, to leave the protective fold of my wonderful friends and family and strike out to follow him. Oh how I can not imagine what when through the disciples minds when Jesus called to them "come follow me..." and they just did. I admire them in a whole different light. When Jesus said 6 months ago "come, follow me." I laughed. "Follow you where?! I'm right here!" Again He said, "come, follow me."
In college everyone asks the questions, "What is your name, where are you from and why are you here?" the moment they meet you. I could stop at where I'm from because California is a LONG ways away from Georgia and that seems to impress most of them here. But then they ask, "How in the world did you end up here?!" I'm still in awe of that very question. "What in the world am I doing here?!" Yesterday I walked out my back door only to watch a city cop shoot a pidgin from the window of his cruiser. When the bird finally fell to the ground he got out, picked it up and threw it in the trunk. Then drove off. (insert hillbilly music here.) "Seriously, God, what am I doing here?!" When fellow students ask how I got here my automatic response is "God has a sense of humor." Which seems fitting to me. Why else would a girl that loves big cities and despises anything relative to camping and outdoors end up at a college in the middle of Chattahoochee National Forest in Toccoa Falls, Georgia. I've already had to murder 3 crickets, 2 unidentified bugs and 1 centipede looking creature in my apartment. (a few of those were done in with a stiletto heel no less.)
Going back to school was an easy choice. When I prayed about it I knew God was saying yes. I also knew I had a heart for ministry. Specifically women's ministry. Now I had a plan. Find a college with a ministry degree. Toccoa Falls College. Ta-da. That was easy. Somehow, in the back of my mind I never felt God would actually follow through with this crazyness. Me, in school full time, in Georgia. HA! But I was willing to follow. Trusting God knew me, my heart and my fear of dirt and bugs. And follow was what I did. Follow and trust. I trusted God when my boss cut my job 6 weeks before I was ready to move out of state. Trusted when I couldn't find another job to fill the 6 weeks. Trusted when my bank account hit dangerous lows and I had the cost of driving across country to fund. Trusted when Cliff and I set off at 6am on August 8th to spend the next 4 days driving through more states than I had ever visited. I held on to that trust, even though I'm sure, more often than not, I had that deer in the headlights look on my face. Jack Mezirow called it "Disorienting dilemma". (Noted in Why Jesus Crossed The Road by Bruce Main). God's faithfulness was clear and bright in the past 8 weeks. As I prepared to move, as I set out on the road and as I pulled into my new home, and every day since then. It's been rough, and I think I've cried more in the past 2 weeks than I have in the past 2 years but to set out on an adventure with only you and God is something I never thought I'd have the courage to do. I had the option to back out. I still have that option. I could turn around and drive home whenever I'd like. I know that I would be welcomed back with open arms and as much love as I need. But I wouldn't just be giving up on myself or my dream I'd be giving up on God's path for me. I'd be giving up on the greatest adventure my little life has seen...yet.
A year ago I was sitting at work messing with an excel spreadsheet and I thought, "wow, I do not want to do this the rest of my life." So much of my early twenties was about surviving. In and out of hospitals, physical therapy and doctors offices, To be normal was my goal. I just wanted a normal boring everyday job. And I made it. The problem was I wasn't being challenged, moved or growing in any way. So, I don't want to sit at a desk answering phones and filling folders the rest of my life. What do I want to do? I had no idea where to start except to pray that exact question. "What do you want with my life, God?" What am I good at? What could I do where I would wake up every morning and not hate what I spend most of the day doing? I'm so impatient! I was ready for God to answer me that day. And when He did, I just became more obsessed. "What am I going to do?!!!!" On my right shoulder blade is a tattoo of the verse Philippians 4:6 "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, through thanksgiving, present your requests to God." I memorized this verse a long time ago and it never ceases to pop up in almost any situation. The phrase "present your requests to God" suddenly meant something different than before. I could ASK God for something I wanted. Granted, this isn't like asking Santa for a pink pony (Because I NEVER did that...) but if there was something I truly desired I could ask for it. So I did. I wanted to go back to school. Full time. To spend my days learning, being challenged, thinking, studying, and ultimately being prepared for something He would call me to. So I prayed for school. I had no idea how it would work. School is expensive and full time would mean I wouldn't be able to hold the job I had (not that it was hard to let go of that!) But who am I to question God? Now, had I known just exactly I what I was asking for I NEVER would have uttered that prayer. It seemed easy enough to me? I was surrounded by supportive friends, family and a church that would encourage me as much as possible. What could go wrong? HA!
"What gives value to travel is fear. it is the fact that, a certain moment, when we are so far from our own country we are seized by a vague fear, and an instinctive desire to go back to the protection of old habits. This is the most obvious benefit of travel. At that moment we are feverish but also porous." Albert Camus.
I have felt this fear for almost a month straight now. My decision to ask to go back to school was made on a romanticized ideal of studying in a cozy library for hours in the afternoon and sitting before captivating professors all day. Instead God asked me to give up the comfort of my home base, to leave the protective fold of my wonderful friends and family and strike out to follow him. Oh how I can not imagine what when through the disciples minds when Jesus called to them "come follow me..." and they just did. I admire them in a whole different light. When Jesus said 6 months ago "come, follow me." I laughed. "Follow you where?! I'm right here!" Again He said, "come, follow me."
In college everyone asks the questions, "What is your name, where are you from and why are you here?" the moment they meet you. I could stop at where I'm from because California is a LONG ways away from Georgia and that seems to impress most of them here. But then they ask, "How in the world did you end up here?!" I'm still in awe of that very question. "What in the world am I doing here?!" Yesterday I walked out my back door only to watch a city cop shoot a pidgin from the window of his cruiser. When the bird finally fell to the ground he got out, picked it up and threw it in the trunk. Then drove off. (insert hillbilly music here.) "Seriously, God, what am I doing here?!" When fellow students ask how I got here my automatic response is "God has a sense of humor." Which seems fitting to me. Why else would a girl that loves big cities and despises anything relative to camping and outdoors end up at a college in the middle of Chattahoochee National Forest in Toccoa Falls, Georgia. I've already had to murder 3 crickets, 2 unidentified bugs and 1 centipede looking creature in my apartment. (a few of those were done in with a stiletto heel no less.)
Going back to school was an easy choice. When I prayed about it I knew God was saying yes. I also knew I had a heart for ministry. Specifically women's ministry. Now I had a plan. Find a college with a ministry degree. Toccoa Falls College. Ta-da. That was easy. Somehow, in the back of my mind I never felt God would actually follow through with this crazyness. Me, in school full time, in Georgia. HA! But I was willing to follow. Trusting God knew me, my heart and my fear of dirt and bugs. And follow was what I did. Follow and trust. I trusted God when my boss cut my job 6 weeks before I was ready to move out of state. Trusted when I couldn't find another job to fill the 6 weeks. Trusted when my bank account hit dangerous lows and I had the cost of driving across country to fund. Trusted when Cliff and I set off at 6am on August 8th to spend the next 4 days driving through more states than I had ever visited. I held on to that trust, even though I'm sure, more often than not, I had that deer in the headlights look on my face. Jack Mezirow called it "Disorienting dilemma". (Noted in Why Jesus Crossed The Road by Bruce Main). God's faithfulness was clear and bright in the past 8 weeks. As I prepared to move, as I set out on the road and as I pulled into my new home, and every day since then. It's been rough, and I think I've cried more in the past 2 weeks than I have in the past 2 years but to set out on an adventure with only you and God is something I never thought I'd have the courage to do. I had the option to back out. I still have that option. I could turn around and drive home whenever I'd like. I know that I would be welcomed back with open arms and as much love as I need. But I wouldn't just be giving up on myself or my dream I'd be giving up on God's path for me. I'd be giving up on the greatest adventure my little life has seen...yet.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Change in my pocket and ready to roll
The older I get the more I realize how much I am like each of my parents. As much as I would hate to be anything like either, it sneaks up on me sometimes. I've been sitting here, refusing to dive into a bible study I know is going include some self reflection that I am just stubborn enough to resist doing. My dad hates change. He hates it so much he just does what he does, day in and day out without ever really living. He takes no risks and refuses to take a chance on something if he sees that there's a possibility of failure. Oh, dear Lord, I am so my fathers daughter! How many times have I passed up something amazing because I saw the possibility of failure? The answer to that is every time. Every time God has put a path of uncertainty in front of me asking me to trust Him I choose the path more traveled. It's easier. And I'm rarely alone on said path.
But here I am again. Faced with a path not traveled. I am to forge my way ahead never knowing if my next step is the edge of a cliff. Some find that prospect exciting, they strap on their parachutes and run full force into the unknown. But who would I be if I wasn't my fathers daughter in this situation? I timidly peer into the unknown jungle, acknowledging the high probability that I will fall flat on my face. And then I make the mistake of peering into the path well traveled. And I see my friends, who are all basically a 2nd generation of any of the FRIENDS episodes waiting to happen, I see comfort and familiarity and lots of coffee and wine and I think "Why the hell would I run into that jungle?!" I have amazing people in my life, I love where I live, work sucks but really, who loves their job these days anyways? The answer seems clear, I choose safety and comfort over risk and unknown. But then I am also choosing disobedience over obedience. As much as I desire comfort and complacency and a feeling of safety my heart cries for the chance to prove it's real love for Christ by following His lead into the unknown. Now I have a war waged between my heart and my head. Logically running head first into the unknown, and in this case the unknown is the great state of Georgia, seems ridiculous. I've never even been to Georgia! I don't know the first thing about this state, in fact after turning in my application for the school I had to look Georgia up on the map. But here I am, turning my life upside down and all around backwards hoping to prove to myself and God I am willing to walk the path He sets before me. Known or unknown I choose His over my own. Because in the end, His path, filled with risk and change will be far more worth it.
Lord, help me be the woman that is her Father's daughter instead of her father's daughter.
But here I am again. Faced with a path not traveled. I am to forge my way ahead never knowing if my next step is the edge of a cliff. Some find that prospect exciting, they strap on their parachutes and run full force into the unknown. But who would I be if I wasn't my fathers daughter in this situation? I timidly peer into the unknown jungle, acknowledging the high probability that I will fall flat on my face. And then I make the mistake of peering into the path well traveled. And I see my friends, who are all basically a 2nd generation of any of the FRIENDS episodes waiting to happen, I see comfort and familiarity and lots of coffee and wine and I think "Why the hell would I run into that jungle?!" I have amazing people in my life, I love where I live, work sucks but really, who loves their job these days anyways? The answer seems clear, I choose safety and comfort over risk and unknown. But then I am also choosing disobedience over obedience. As much as I desire comfort and complacency and a feeling of safety my heart cries for the chance to prove it's real love for Christ by following His lead into the unknown. Now I have a war waged between my heart and my head. Logically running head first into the unknown, and in this case the unknown is the great state of Georgia, seems ridiculous. I've never even been to Georgia! I don't know the first thing about this state, in fact after turning in my application for the school I had to look Georgia up on the map. But here I am, turning my life upside down and all around backwards hoping to prove to myself and God I am willing to walk the path He sets before me. Known or unknown I choose His over my own. Because in the end, His path, filled with risk and change will be far more worth it.
Lord, help me be the woman that is her Father's daughter instead of her father's daughter.
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