Community

This past weekend, I visited dear friends in Waco, Texas. These girls have loved me more than I thought possible, live for Jesus, and pour themselves out as offerings on a daily basis. They have been the mouthpieces of God more times than I can count, and hold me accountable in every facet of life. These incredible women are my role models and soul sisters. Seeing them again for the first time in 4 months refreshed my spirit and filled my love tank to the brim; after an evening of laughter, snorting (all me), singing, and story-telling, I woke up early the next morning and sat with Jesus. As I sat in my friends' loft with a warm mug in my hands and the morning sunlight peaking through the curtains, I paid more attention to the Holy Spirit than I had in months. There was no urgency to rush through a devotional, jot down prayer requests, or go through a magical process guaranteed to please God. All I had to do was be still.

Waco was a place where I cursed, questioned, and praised God. Baylor was the place where I felt the deepest intimacy with God, but I realized this Friday that our intimacy stemmed from surrounding myself with His people. Despite recent fire, Baylor is a university that points to God in the details. The architecture, required Chapel classes, and Christian faculty create an environment for faith to flourish. "Pro Ecclesia, Pro Texana" doesn't guarantee an exclusively Christian campus, but it does draw in students who want to find Godly community in college. First semester was one of the loneliest seasons I've walked through, as I avoided every club meeting and sorority dinner because I was terrified of rejection.

After Christmas break, I began attending a Campus Crusade Bible study in my residence hall. The study was full of women just like me who wanted to know Jesus more. I had to get over some self-esteem issues, but eventually I started hanging out with them outside of the study. The girls in this group showed me the radiance and splendor of biblical community. Jesus came to give us abundant life, and I believe that a major part of that abundance comes from fellowship with other believers. When those around you are talking about moments they've had with Jesus, scripture that inspired them, or God's movement in their lives, it's contagious. I get excited to meet the Jesus that my friends have met, and that excitement causes me to want to be still. I struggle the most in my relationship with God when I'm pursuing Him alone, with no community cheering me on and holding me accountable. When I surround myself with Godly people, I want to become a Godly person. When I try to become a Godly person, I'm making myself like Christ, and growing into the woman He created me to be.

I don't have to come to Waco or join a Bible study to see God's plan and love, I just have to sit in the quiet beauty of His stillness, and listen. Christian fellowship helps me sit, inspires me to pursue God, and provides friends to hold my arms up when I feel like I can't worship through a valley. Do you have a Godly community that does this? If not, I urge you to seek one out. The connection will rarely be immediate, but it will come with time if you sacrifice your insecurities and discomfort for the sake of building relationship.

Jesus had twelve.

Who's walking alongside you?

Purpose

C/O the ever-talented Marcus Clark

Hi friends, it's been a while. March was a long month, filled with trips home and big decisions, lazy days and crazy weeks, naps and tests. I started two blog posts that were never finished, I struggled to hear God in the selfishness and business of the everyday, and I filled my time with fleeting pleasures (Downton Abbey, I will always love you). March was an odd transition into my last sliver of time at Baylor.
I have five weeks left in Waco, Texas. Five weeks to find out why the Lord led me here, who the Lord led me here for. As easy as it is to sink into a pity party of student loans and homesickness, there is a purpose for my time here.
Purpose. A drive, a motivation, a meaning. The heartbeat of the human race, quite arguably, is to find one's purpose. What mark can you leave on the world? How are you going to establish a legacy? Why do you matter in this mass of cosmos and infinite space? The easy answer to these questions, the Sunday school answer, is Jesus. As a good, church-attending Christian, you are here to WWJD your way through life. That answer feels oddly dissatisfying though, as so few believers seem to actually do what Jesus would do.
The only reason I feel slightly worthy of shedding light on our calamity is because I fall short of this too. Every day, nearly every moment, in fact. My thoughts are filled with the future, with pretty dreams and a well-organized five-year plan. I snap back to the present just long enough to complete an assignment or engage in conversation with a friend over lunch. As I walk to class, as I drift in and out of the present, I am focused entirely on myself. That, readers, is a perfect strategy for losing one's purpose. See, I am not a big deal. I am not enough to orchestrate a life around. I am a shell of flesh, with a beating heart and fluttering soul, desperate for deeper meaning that can only be found in Jesus Christ. Trying to survive each day is not enough, orchestrating a picture-perfect life is not enough, living for my own ambitions and pleasure is not enough.
For weeks now, I've been puzzled by my relationship with God. The Lord felt further away from me than my family and home (200 miles), yet I was reading my Bible and praying every morning as usual. I was even allotting 45 minutes of my day for the Lord, rather than 20 minutes like last semester. Shouldn't that be enough to see the Holy Spirit in my day? I never considered that I wasn't leaving room for the Holy Spirit, not until a sermon from Church Under the Bridge this past Sunday. Church Under the Bridge is a unique collaboration of homeless and privileged, believer and skeptic, that takes place every Sunday morning at 11 am, right underneath the I-35 bridge across from Baylor's campus. My experience there was easily the best Sunday experience I've had in Waco. As Jimmy preached on Pentecost Sunday and the early church, I was convicted of my own selfishness and foolishness. I realized that the emptiness I felt at Baylor wasn't the university's fault, or the distance from home's fault, or the honors program's fault. My emptiness was a result of me filling myself with my own desires and crowding out the Holy Spirit. I was so focused on achieving a perfect future that I neglected the opportunity for the perfect present. I've made plans, back-up plans, strategies, and Pinterest boards for my future, without stopping to notice that there are people around me who need Christ's love.
Purpose comes from the Lord and His plans, not from our own achievements or appearances. 
Acts 1:8 promises that "you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere." The Holy Spirit is our power, and witnessing is our purpose. You may not be called to missions or pastoring, but you are called to love others and represent Christ. You are called to ask the girl down the hall or down the street to lunch, for no reason. You are called to put the phone down and engage your cashier in earnest conversation. You are called to buy groceries for the person behind you at HEB. You are called to serve in your church on a regular basis. You are called to invest your life into your relationships, to make sure that people know they are loved. You are called. We, as the body of Christ, share a united purpose to live for a cause greater than ourselves. Our purpose is to witness through inconvenient kindness and counter-cultural selflessness. If you're feeling purposeless, search your heart for selfishness and bring it to the Lord. The Holy Spirit needs room to move, y'all.

2K15

This morning, my grandparents' pastor reminded the church congregation that it was the last weekend of 2015. He went on to share how this year had been wonderful for him, with new additions to the family and college graduations to celebrate. His exuberance over his 2015 experience prompted me to make a collage celebrating my year as well. While I was scrolling through the abundance of screenshots, selfies, group photos, and vacation pictures, I realized that I had too many happy moments to compress into one collage. If I wanted to include every worthwhile memory from 2015, I would have filled your newsfeed with all the mushy gushy, feel-good vibes of my year. I chose the picture above to represent my year because God bombarded me with blessings the way my buddy Steve bombarded me with color powder. My relationships blossomed just like the beautiful wildflowers I found in my backyard this spring, my pursuit of God was more vibrant than the red powder streaking across my white dress, and my celebratory moments surpassed what I could have dreamed or imagined was possible for one year.

This year was honestly the best year of my life, but none of that would have happened if I hadn't dared to leave what was comfortable for the sake of the unknown. In January, I broke up with my boyfriend of two years after realizing that we were being crippled by the convenience of our relationship. Two years prior, we had started on a path together, hand in hand, overcome with the giddiness of puppy love and infatuation. But as time had passed, we had come to a fork in the road, and I went left when he went right. Our grip on one another was strained, our words grew distant and undistinguishable, and we simply couldn't continue down our destined paths together. Leaving my ex was the most daunting, scary, and necessary decision I'd ever had to make, but it propelled me from the valley of complacency into green pastures.

February and March were filled with girls' nights, books and hot baths, and almost-relationships that were classified with the ever elusive "we're talking." In April, I had my senior prom and it was the most fun I had in all of high school. I was ignoring God just as I had for the past year and a half, but I started journaling again. Journaling led to asking questions in prayer, and by April, I was more open to receive God than I had been in years. At a church conference, I heard a sermon about the immoral woman in Luke 7. The woman came to Jesus while he was eating, poured expensive perfume over him, and washed his feet with her tears, wiping them away with her hair. I had never felt so connected to a biblical character as I did to that woman. She and I were one, both pursuing the gazes of men and placing our worth in material things. Rather than washing Jesus' feet, I wrote him a love letter in a dark corner of the sanctuary, hiding from those around me as I laid myself bare before my king. That was my first great blessing of 2015: reclaimed intimacy with God.

That spring, I started having quiet time every morning on my back porch. I worshipped, I prayed for others, I confessed my brokenness, I read the Word, day in and day out. The better part of my senior year was spent pursuing Christ and praying for those around me who were still stuck in the stagnant Christianity I had just escaped. Joy was easier to find in the everyday, and I truly loved my classmates and my church. I went to Sadie Hawkins with my close guy friend, I gave the opening remarks at graduation, and I left high school satisfied that I had made the most of my last two months there. Summer was just beginning though, and the path the Lord was leading me on was about to get a little more crowded.

Fresh out of high school and alive with summertime, I introduced myself to a cute stranger after church. For the first time in my life (honestly), I had no desire to date anyone, and was completely satisfied in pursuing Christ rather than boys. I didn't expect anything to develop, but I started noticing him everywhere after that. I wanted to tell my friends about him, even though we'd had a handful of conversations and I barely knew him. I sensed a crush coming on, and so June and July were spent fighting it off, reading my Bible, going to summer camp, and preparing for college. Mid-July, my youth group went to Colorado for what would be my seventh Desperation Conference experience. My crush was there, as a middle school boys leader, and I fled from him at every opportunity. Not only was Tim handsome, but he was well-read, loved the Lord, and looked at me like I'd always wanted a man to. He had warm eyes, a kind smile, laughed easily... I was smitten. This was the beginning of my second big blessing.

Before that date came along, however, the Lord planted a seed in my heart for missions. Suddenly, I saw myself washing the feet of the Dalits in India, walking down the dirty streets, and loving on the unloved. Small, forgotten threads from my life were sewn together, and I could finally see how the various fabric swatches of passions, experiences, and goals fit together to reveal my life purpose. I was created to love the Dalit people, the most mistreated people group in India. Then and now, my heart swells when I hear them mentioned, when I come across a worship song or Bible verse about orphans, or when I see a mission trip advertised on campus. Oddly enough, I had an intense longing to tell Tim about my call, so on our second date, I did. Surprisingly, he had been called to missions too, just a couple weeks prior. An indescribable peace encompassed me as he described how he'd heard from the Lord, and over the next few weeks, we were inseparable.

Come August, I left my home of twelve years for my first semester of college. My roommate and I clung to each other in those first few days away from home, and we went from acquaintances to sisters in a matter of weeks. The spring and summer leading up to school were filled with blessings: intimacy with the Lord, healed relationships with my parents, unexpected scholarships, and Tim. Fall, however, brought different kinds of blessings: those that come with trial, struggle, and tear-filled nights. I hated school, I hated being away from home, I hated spending my time and money on what felt worthless. I met amazing people and learned more about the world and myself than I ever had, but I cried at least once a week to Tim about missing home. My blessings went from the abstract and spiritual to the everyday and minute. I praised the Lord for a good cup of coffee, for a stranger opening the door for me, for a 70 degree day. My path of life had darkened with menacing forests of debt, loneliness, and purposelessness. To combat the dreariness, I had to focus on the wildflowers on the forest floor, the tiny gifts God planted in my days to get me through my descent from the mountaintop of summer. 

By November, I started going to counseling, cried half as often, and forced myself to enjoy the allotted time I had to spend away from home. The blessings were still small, but every visit home gave me a taste of heaven to get me through hell. I was able to lead the sixth grade girls at a youth retreat back home, and got to love on a special needs sweetheart in my group. On my last day of class at school, I got a call from Pine Cove family camp and was told that my counselor application had been accepted. I came home with a high GPA and a wide open Christmas break, and have spent every day with people I love. 

This year, I gained invaluable friendships, met incredible people, and have the future I've always dreamed of within reach. There have been struggles, but my greatest blessing has been the joy to get me through all seasons. This year has been my best, because I know who I am in Christ, and have full freedom to walk in that identity. But all my blessings began with a tough decision. As the new year approaches, think about what your decision will be for 2016. Do you need to end a dating relationship or unhealthy friendship? Do you need to take time to discover who you are in Christ? Is it time to take a career risk, or transfer to a new school, or move to a new community? Whatever your decision is, know this: God is always calling us to higher purposes than our own. As you enter into 2016, find comfort in letting God's word be the lamp on your feet and the light on your path. Pursue Him, and His peace will lead you through whatever triumphs and struggles come this year. But it all starts with a decision: what, or who, is holding you back from Him?

Transition

"Don't you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can't you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin?" Romans 2:4

As I sit on my back porch, the wind rustles the leaves in the trees and the pages in my Bible. Rather than the sunrise I usually see in my quiet time, I see Earl Grey clouds, swollen with rain, concealing the blue Texas sky from view. This change of weather comes at a change of seasons in my life. In two days, I will move from the home I've known for twelve years to a place I've dreamt of and visited throughout the last six. I leave my family, my church, my favorite person, my friendships, all behind for the sake of life change through the unknown. Surely you would expect me to be excited, nervous, eager for college. On the contrary, I've been battling anxiety, hesitancy, and fear. I blamed these feelings on the home I'd be leaving behind, the community I'd cultivated that could never be replicated. It wasn't until last Wednesday that God revealed the true reason behind my begrudging heart: He was leading me to summit the next peak in my life, but I wasn't trusting Him. I glanced at the obscure equipment lying at our feet, focused on my innumerable weaknesses, longed for the familiarity I'd left behind, rather than gazing on the beauty and strength of my Savior. Who was I not to trust the Creator with my transition to college life? As my dear dear T has been reminding me, God has secured me in the palm of His hand.

"When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer." Psalm 94:19

As I've come to this conclusion, a small flicker of joy has resumed in the hearth of my heart where there was previously desolation and despair. I eagerly await to see which friendships will bloom in harvest time, which church I'll connect with, which campus nook I'll have quiet time in. Jesus has planted delight, elation, and zeal within me. This fall will give me ample time to get alone with God, freedom to follow his call on my life. I can see the beauty of a sunrise on the horizon, and He's sailing this empty vessel toward a new shore. The wind of His presence is strong, His wisdom is sure, and His love is sound. I have no fear, for the One who knit me together has a firm grip on my unsteady hand.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take." Proverbs 3:5-6