2K16

2016 was a great year. While I could reminisce for paragraphs about the many highs and lows of the past 12 months, I thought instead to reminisce about all that the Lord taught me this year. 

1.     Things are never as bad as they seem. 

"For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime! 

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning."

Psalm 30:5

      After my family went on a trip to NYC in January, I drove from Austin-Bergstrom to Baylor in tears. I wouldn't see my family again for what felt like ages, my fiancé was in another country on a mission trip, I was going back to a school where I felt out of place, and I had no idea what to expect in the new semester. I sobbed as I drove away from my family and one of the best vacations ever because I was terrified of the unfamiliar. There was no way I could have known that I would meet half of my bride tribe that semester in a Bible Study I forced myself to go to. There was no way I could have known that I would solidify friendships that were barely formed when I left for Christmas break. There was no way I could have known how much I would grieve the loss of Baylor just three months after transferring out. My perspective at the beginning of that season was dim and bleak because I was allowing myself to be guided by my own doubt and fear rather than my God's hope and joy. 

2.     Rest is good. 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:6-7

      This lesson came hard at the beginning of the school year, when nearly all of my friends at Baylor joined sororities and couldn't spend as much time with me as they had before. I was crushed. Just as I had settled into freshman year, everything changed all over again. It was a miracle if I could find someone to eat dinner with on a Monday night. My days were long and empty, while everyone around me was spinning in a thousand directions. I beat myself up because everyone seemed to be busier than me, had more tasks to accomplish and more friends to meet up with. I grew weary with the ample free time my days held. Eventually, I realized that there was no point in feeling guilty for having free time. I can confidently say that those days of emptiness brought me closer to the Lord and enabled me to discover myself in a way that many of my peers didn't have the time to do. I had so much free time, in fact, that I was able to take hour-long walks every Sunday night around campus. As the sun set, I would listen to podcasts and decompress from whatever stress had accumulated the week before. My life was beautifully slow that semester, and I wouldn't sacrifice a single moment of peace for an enhanced resume. 

3.     Comparison is the thief of joy. 

"Yes, the body has many different parts, not just one part. If the foot says, 'I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,' that does not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear says, 'I am not part of the body because I am not an eye,' would that make it any less a part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, how would you hear? Or if your whole body were an ear, how would you smell anything? But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it."

1 Corinthians 12:14-18

      This is a lesson that everyone, especially women, struggle with throughout their life, and the Lord truly hammered this truth to my soul this summer serving as a camp counselor. I was a seasoned expert when it came to comparing myself to other women physically, but was entirely unprepared for comparing myself to other women's inward beauty. At camp, I was surrounded by women who were strikingly different from me in the best way; women who were more mature, friendlier, more responsible, more flexible, more humble, more artistic, and more social than me. If you've ever felt like everyone has a clique or a best friend except for you, then you can imagine how I felt. My personal insecurities caused me to believe that those who were different from me were somehow better than me. Other counselors seemed to be so much more popular with campers, befriended more counselors, or created more beautiful signs and decor than I ever could. I failed to see that I brought gifts and opinions to the table that others could not, and I separated myself from others because of it. My pride got in the way of sacrificing my own comforts to alleviate other people's burdens, which was practically the mission statement of camp. Christ did not compare himself to other figures and teachers, he just did what the Father told him to do. Jesus may have been the center of attention during his three years of ministry, but that attention didn't stop his crucifixion.

4.     Expectations are the root of disappointment.  

"It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man."

Psalm 118:8

      This statement has been repeated by my best friends for the majority of the year, as we've lamented the conflicts that arise after an expectation goes unmet. Every relationship, even your relationship with yourself, suffers conflict after one party fails to meet another's assumptions. I've learned that the best way to walk into each day is one step at a time, not checking the map for what's ahead, but just matching my pace to my breath. As someone who LOVES to plan ahead, this has been a major challenge, but I have never been disappointed less than when I capture my expectations. I look to the Lord to satisfy me, and try to love those who cross my path. When you trust God above anyone else, you'll be less affected by other people's selfishness and thoughtlessness. In relationships, you have to realize that no human is perfect, and no human can read minds. If you haven't communicated your expectations with someone, you have little right to get mad when things don't work out. Even when they fail you though, and they will, give grace. Jesus has certainly given us ample grace for the many times we've failed to meet his expectations.

5. Grace, grace, grace.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy."

Matthew 5:7

"Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble."

1 Peter 5:5

"For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment."

James 2:13

"But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Matthew 6:15

"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience..."

Colossians 3:12

      

      Clearly, I'm passionate about this subject. This last semester has presented more opportunities than I've ever known to give grace to others and myself. Getting engaged has forced me to grow up more quickly than my peers, and I've failed myself too many times to count as I've struggled to understand living expenses, insurance, career paths, and the adult world. I've learned that shame is not from the Lord, but from the enemy. If the enemy can cause us to feel guilty and ashamed, then we consequently will cover ourselves and hide from God, as Adam and Eve did in the Garden. We must give grace to ourselves when we try and fail, or when we don't try at all and knew we should have. Repentance and shame are entirely different; repentance is an action, shame is a cycle. Giving grace to others, depending on the person, is infinitely more difficult or easier than giving grace to yourself. This semester has been filled with transition, for myself and everyone around me. I've disappointed others and have been disappointed by others more than any other season in my life. The Bible tells us that those who forgive will be forgiven, and that those who hold grudges will not be. Remember the story of the servant who owed his master a debt? The master forgave his servant, and moments after expressing his gratefulness, the servant encountered a man who owed him debts. Rather than forgiving the man as his master had forgiven him, the servant persecuted and prosecuted the man, completely ignoring the forgiveness he'd been shown. I've learned this year that grace is instant forgiveness. Giving grace is the only way you can go through life without pessimism. It's not easy to instantly forgive, but it is freeing. After giving grace as much as possible for the past few months, the forgiveness has turned into straight up forgetting. I can't even remember what people have done to hurt me, intentionally or accidentally, because I'm no longer allowing myself to focus on others' faults. When you shift your focus from the sins of others to the perfection of Christ, it's impossible to hold grudges. This is easily the most life-changing lesson I've learned this year, because healing comes from the divine grace of God. If we have the Spirit of God within us, we have every ability to forgive sins as He does. When Christ died on the cross, God forgave every sin for all of mankind. He's never looked back on our sins, but has separated our imperfection from His righteousness as far as the east is from the west. Shouldn't we practice the same grace to others?

Forgiveness

Photo Credit: Wayfarer Photography

"Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes." 

1 John 2:9-11

This subject has been on my heart for the past several months. The Holy Spirit has been training me to fight bitterness and surrender my pain to God in this season of change, adjustment, and exhaustion. Preparing for marriage is no joke, y'all. As T and I ready ourselves for life's next adventure, the enemy is using every tactic he has to come against us. He is trying to steal, kill, and destroy God's most beautiful creation, marriage. Stress and busyness have tried to steal our joy and energy. Exhaustion and misunderstanding have tried to kill relationships. Bitterness and selfishness have tried to destroy T and I's relationship. Fortunately, God won't stand for any of it, and neither will we. Unfortunately, I've discovered a tendency for bitterness in my heart throughout this engagement. My gut reaction to conflict, aggression, and chaos is obsession. I obsess over what he/she said, I obsess over analyzing their intentions behind their words or expression or choice, and I obsess over protecting myself from letting them hurt me again. I set expectations for whoever has wounded me, falling victim to my hurt and allowing bitterness to bloom. 

They are always going to hurt me. 

They don't love/support me.

I can't trust them ever again.

I'm worthless in their eyes.

These thoughts build a wall against forgiveness, fortifying my bitter heart against Christ's redeeming love. When Jesus hung on the cross, naked and ashamed, He clothed himself in my pain and brokenness. He felt every moment of self-pity, every moment of shame, every moment of hate that I will ever experience. When He burst through the gates of Hell with fire in his eyes and the keys to death in his triumphant hand, He left the memory of every sin smoldering to ash behind him. My sins were the cause of Christ's death, but He shook off the burden of bitterness in favor of love. God has every reason to hold my sins against me, but he doesn't. He sees me in my pain and brokenness, and loves me without expecting anything in return. 

So if I'm supposed to be like Christ, how does my bitterness reflect His glory?

It doesn't.

Bitterness is a slap in the face to Christ's love. It is a direct disobedience to the greatest commandment: love God, and love others. There is no love in bitterness, there is no compassion in the unforgiven, there is no mercy in judgment. In fact, mercy triumphs over judgment. Therefore, when I obsess over the wounds I've been dealt by others and allow myself to steep in anger and self-righteousness, I build a wall against Christ's love. 

God revealed all of this to me a few weekends ago during a women's conference at my church. The conference's theme and title was Breakthrough, but I didn't believe that I really had any strongholds to break through. I didn't have a tragic childhood, I'd never had any mental disorders or health scares, and I didn't think I was currently struggling with anything that was holding me back from God. Isn't it sweet how God cares about us enough to take us down from our self-imposed pedestals before we fall off and hurt ourselves? 

As I was worshipping, I had a mama moment. Personally, God has called me to mother the orphaned and outcast, and to pursue motherhood above any career or ambition. This is going to sound crazy, but instead of getting goosebumps or visions when I'm having an intimate moment with the Spirit, I'll feel the weight of a child's hand in mine, or the sensation of holding a baby against my chest. These moments are rare, but they usually precede a major shift in my heart and life. They are also usually baptized in a torrent of tears and ugly sobs, because Jesus wept so why can't I? I started sobbing for the children God has given me and will give to me, sobbing for their suffering, sobbing for the darkness they walked through every day. Clear as day, the Holy Spirit spoke to me: everyone is suffering in their own way, where are your tears for those who have hurt you? How can I expect you to love my children if you can't forgive ______?

Me: What?

What do you mean "where are your tears for those who have hurt you?" Don't you realize that the people who have hurt me deserve my bitterness? They haven't earned my forgiveness. They're not poor, they don't wonder where their next meal will come from, they have every opportunity in the world! Why on earth would I have sympathy for their perfect, American, middle class lives?

Everyone is suffering in their own way.

But God, don't you remember how she belittled and embarrassed me? Don't you remember how he abandoned me and lied to me? Don't you remember how she jumped at the opportunity to criticize my every move? Don't you remember how he left me defenseless? How on earth can my heart possibly break for their suffering when they've caused so much of mine?

It is my job to judge. It is your job to love.

As I sat there, dumbfounded by revelation, I realized that God wanted to breakthrough the resentment I held against childhood bullies, past love interests, and hurt people who hurt people. I thought I was living in the light, but I had hate towards my brothers and sisters in Christ. Bitterness had blinded my eyes to the fact that these people had hurt me because they too, were broken; their struggles were interior rather than exterior. I long to bring restoration to orphans because their pain is obviously life threatening, it's exterior. But shouldn't I long to bring restoration to my peers, even if their pain isn't as noticeable? Maybe he had abandoned me because he had never been taught how to love. Maybe she had criticized and bullied me because she can't stand who she sees in the mirror. God began revealing the darkness that engulfed my aggressors' hearts, comparing it with the darkness that engulfs orphans and widows. God doesn't see brokenness on a circumstantial scale. He doesn't look at orphans any differently than he looks at businessmen. He sees all of us equally. He loves all of us equally, and that love casts out darkness. He's given us His love so we can love others, not so we can hoard it and hold it out of certain people's reach. Jesus died for those who afflicted him, not for those who had perfectly loved him. 

So if I'm supposed to be like Christ, how can I harbor resentment in my heart towards his broken children?

Joy

"I will be filled with joy because of you. I will sing praises to your name, O Most High." Psalm 9:2 

As I sat in class this morning, staring at a subpar test score, panicked thoughts flashed across my mind.

If I don't get my grades up, I won't earn the transfer scholarship. 

If I don't earn the transfer scholarship, I'll get into even more student loan debt. 

How on earth can I pay off $_______ with no income?

I shouldn't even be in this class, I should have dropped it when I had the chance.

Stress and worry are smooth criminals. They lurk beneath the surface of a happy façade, waiting to come to light at the first hint of a deadline, promotion, project, or milestone. Stress and worry are thieves of joy, attacking us at our most vulnerable. They creep into our plans and daydreams like lions stalking prey. You're walking through the savanna of your day, brushing aside the tall grass around you, when a rustle sounds to your right: You forgot to buy groceries/file taxes/fill your gas tank. A mental note appears, and you're consumed with guilt for a moment. A few more steps, a few more minutes, and you stumble over a rock: There's a big meeting next week, and you're underprepared. Your stroll becomes a brisk walk, as you speed to outpace the threat of your thoughts. A low growl whispers in your ear: You'll never be able to finish the day's tasks. You're not good enough. Cue panic as the lion of worry attacks.

Moments like this can become ordinary if you aren't careful. For an unemployed college student with student loans in the process of transferring schools, moments like this lead to despair, frenzy, and the overwhelming urge to drop out of college altogether. It becomes all too easy to ask myself, "what's the point?" When I become stressed, I have a one-track mind for my insufficiency and failure. I neglect relationships, have a permanent scowl, and snap at the innocent. In the middle of my panic this morning, the Lord whispered to me: 

Daughter, when you are stressed and in despair, you've lost sight of your perfect joy in Christ. 

Wow. Where has my faith been?

To you, joy may be little more than a tiding of goodwill towards men, torn down with the garland and tinsel at the end of December (or January, or February, no judgment here). In actuality, joy is much grander than that. Jesus rocked my world yesterday with this gem from She Reads Truth:

True joy is not something that can be conjured up or willed.

Joy is not constant happiness or fake smiles, joy is faith, peace, and love's beautiful outpour. When we trust the Lord with the nitty-gritty details of our life, we have the freedom to love others well. Do you think that if you surrender the reins on your life to God, he's going to let your job, family, or education crumble? There is unexplainable peace found in Christ's joy, because joy is simply embracing and acknowledging your freedom in redemption. God offers joy to us at every turn, in every season, in all circumstances. All it takes is worship. All it takes is intimacy with Christ.  Acknowledging that God is greater than our current circumstances lifts the burdens of this world off of our shoulders so we can rejoice with gladness.

Finding joy requires faith in God's power, and an eternal perspective. This world is our temporary home, but if we put our faith in Jesus, we'll spend eternity worshipping. What greater joy can be found than in worshipping the Creator of all? What greater joy can be found in deep intimacy with the one who knows every star by name?

"You will show my the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever." Psalm 16:11