Philippians 4:6-7

 Philippians 4:6-7
 ⁶ Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. ⁷ Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

I love this passage.  So much so that I've written it down on a (neon yellow) index card that sits on my desk.  It's a constant reminder that worrying is futile.  Prayer is the answer.  I glanced over today for my daily reminder and two things struck me. 

I've been missing a step in the process this whole time.  Instead of worrying, we're called to pray.  We're called to cry out to God with our requests and needs, but we're also directed to thank God for all that He has done.  Wups.  I'm pretty sure that my worry-directed prayers aren't including "thanks for..." sections.  Time to revise those prayers.

Additionally, I'm inextricably drawn to the word "peace" or just the concept thereof.  Since last week after sharing this passage, I've found myself drawn to the second sentence of verse 7.  "His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."  Specifically the word "guard".  It's an action word-- not a passive "watch", but a vigilant protection.  His peace will guard... It's interesting to me that it doesn't say "He will guard..." that's what I would expect to read.  It definitely says that His peace will guard.  I'm not a "Bible scholar", but I think he's talking about the Holy Spirit here.  Holy Spirit = peace = guarding our hearts and minds.

"Before Jesus, we were not allowed to be in the presence of God. But, through Jesus' sacrifice, our peace with God was purchased. In addition to Jesus' death buying you peace with God, it also serves as a cleansing sacrifice to allow you into the presence of the Lord.  With the Holy Spirit now living inside of you, you are able to experience the peace of God.  This is the kind of peace that the Fruit of the Holy Spirit manifests." from Hem of His Garment Bible Study 

It's funny how you can read something a million times and have completely new insights still appear.  I love that about scripture.

Trust

When I have nothing left.  When I throw my hands up in frustration.

I remember that I wasn't meant to do this alone.

God's timing is perfect.  He will sustain me until then.

Tonight I trust.  It's all I have the energy left to do.

Memories

A reminder
A simple object
A profound memory

Sometimes I slip into a mental nonchalance. A place in time where I allow my mind to wander to familiar but non-existent places. It's so much easier to hang out there. Soak in the vivid memories and envision new and better realities.

But I'm certain that's the root of my unrealistic expectations. A fantasy that I perpetuate regardless of the fact that I will eventually be hurt by it.

The real difficulty comes during the days/nights where the soothing (albeit short) quality of past & fantasy is the only balm that seems to work.

The battle rages.

when strivings cease

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

(In Christ Alone)

Today I'm living this part of the song.  I'm feeling immeasurable peace and the beginning of true rest.  I got the visual picture last night of my head on Jesus' shoulder.  What a calming thought.  Wrapped up in His arms, finding the rest that He offers the weary.

And as a result, I feel like I'm operating from the overflow today, as opposed to pulling out everything I have and then just running on empty.

I actually woke up this morning, and when I remembered that it's a shortened week due to Thanksgiving I almost cried.  Blessed rest.  Available and freely given.  Couldn't be happier.

Loss

A year and a half ago my world shifted.

My best friend dissolved our friendship completely out of the blue--by email.  She refused to talk about things.  She had no interest in working things out.  We'd been friends for a decade.

I was incredibly hurt.  To the tips of my toes I was altered because of that situation.  For better and for worse.  I constantly fear that people will grow tired of me and leave with little warning.  I also diversify and spread out my friendships.  Just like the idiom "don't put all your eggs in one basket".  I learned my lesson.  I now act accordingly.

And as a result, my friendships are healthier and I'm healthier.

Yet to this day, I'd do almost anything to reconstruct that broken friendship.  A year and a half later with almost no communication, and all she would need to do is call me.  I'm intensely loyal and not one to hold a grudge.

I'd worked through the pain months ago.  I had accepted the inevitable: a lost friendship forever.  It stung, but even that went away after a while.  I now have excellent friends who've hung around through the highs and the lows.  I don't actually "need" her like I used to.  I shut the door, and I was okay with it.

Now it seems that the door has cracked open.  Possibilities that didn't exist before this week presented themselves to me.  I have a couple ways I can deal with the situation.  I'm trying to balance the reminder of the hurt with the giddy jumping-up-and-down that's going on in my head.

The conundrum rages.  How far will the door actually open?  Where will this go?

Value & Worth

Wrapped around the topic of significance, I feel lost.

I've struggled for days to figure it out.  And then I realized that the issue is worth.  Value.

Not valued in the "we don't appreciate you" sense.  But in a, "what do I actually have to contribute?" kind of way.  Yet how can you be truly appreciated if you don't have anything to offer?

I struggle, daily, with feelings of inadequacy and unimportance.  I wonder if my opinion even matters.  Why would anyone at work listen to me?  Why would anyone read my blog?  Who really cares what I post on twitter?  When will my friends finally get tired of me and just leave?

I worry about perceptions.  A lot.  Personal judgment comes easily.  Too easily.  I orchestrate life just so, I make strategic impressions, I dress a certain way, and I hold myself according to the way I wish to be viewed.  Not a false view of myself.  I don't try to be someone I'm not, but I also don't frequently let the deep cracks show.  Only my closest friends see those.

I worry that people will see my insecurities and label me accordingly.  "Is she really ______ enough?"

Why does it matter, right?  It all seems to boil down to worth and value.  Feeling valued gives a certain boldness, a certainty of action.  When you feel like you have something of value to offer, you're able to look past the "judgment" of others to where you're headed.  There's a clarity of vision and purpose.  This is definitely where I want to be.

Yet too often my age, or my perceived age, automatically directs me to a "worth-less" pile.  I'm lied to.  I'm told that I have nothing to share, not enough maturity or wisdom to make the important decisions.  My opinion is asked for, but for all intents and purposes, it's just for show.  So I walk around wounded, feeling unheard and under-valued.  Living in a world that I can't seem to find my niche in.  My age pushes me forward and holds me back at the same time.  I don't know how to win.

My value in Christ is secure, but my earthly value is less stable.  I frequently feel young, inexperienced, naive, and small.  I'm tired of constantly feeling like I have to prove myself.  I'm ready for the boldness of action and steps forward.

living stones

We are living stones.

1 Peter 2:4-5

"4 As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— 5 you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."

 
I looked "stone" up on dictionary.com.  A website I frequent.  And this definition defines this idea even better:

Stone: A piece of rock quarried and worked into a specific size and shape for a particular purpose (paving stone; building stone)

 
I have been quarried for a particular purpose.

The best part of this verse is the sense of community though.  A house is not built with just one stone, but many.  You can look at this verse as a completely personal application, or you can see it as something bigger. That each of us is but one stone in the spiritual house, surrounded by other stones.

To me, there's a deep sense of community, common purpose, and unity required.  A team mentality.  A, "if you succeed we all succeed" kind of mindset. There's also a sense of relief, a reminder that we don't have to do it all alone, in fact, that's not how we were created.  We're meant to work together.

Have you ever noticed that great things can happen through collaboration? Duplication waters down the effort.  If we all do what we were uniquely created to do, and support others who are doing likewise, the results are limitless.  Spiritual sacrifices to God.

Much better than sacrificing a calf. IMO.

Words

Words are like tears.  Extremely freeing emotionally, but completely unpredictable as well.

It always seems that words fail me when I need them most.  When I need to describe how I'm feeling about something important or when I simply just want release; the words frequently feel distant and sterile.

I feel off kilter today.  Not enough that I'm worried I'm falling, but enough that I'm frustrated. 

It's funny actually.  Well, not really in a literal sense, but through a recent emotional situation I wanted nothing more than just to feel numb again.  To just not feel the searing pain all the time.  And now I feel like that's exactly where I'm at--more or less--and the numb feeling isn't any more soothing than the pain.  In fact, it's disconcerting.

I couldn't speak up, I couldn't pray aloud, I couldn't come up with a prayer request.  I feel like I've stumbled into an emotionless haze and I desperately want out.

The hope is that the words will pierce the haze and free me from this immobilization.  The fear is that, like when I want to cry most, the tears just won't come.

I want what I can't have.  Where is the release from that?

Busyness

I pulled out my phone and opened my calendar.  Surely finding a free evening sometime in November shouldn't be that difficult...

EIGHT evenings.  That's all.  That's all the weeknight evenings in November that are unaccounted for--as of the end of October.  It wasn't even November yet and the month was basically already over, or at least it seemed that way.

I'm struggling.  I'm honestly struggling.  I plan, and plan, and plan until there is nothing left.  I've shared this snippet from Shauna Niequist's book Bittersweet before, but it seems applicable yet again:

"I love it when a day's activities stack up on top of each other perfectly, from breakfast to work to lunch to grocery shopping to coffee, all the way through till I fall into bed.  I love days when you're always leaving something early to arrive just a touch late at the next place, like pearls on a string or Tarzan swinging on vines, feet never touching the ground."

I love that too.  In a sick and twisted sort of way.  I love to be busy.

Shauna goes on to talk about how the busyness creates a loss in the end.  You can't be involved with everything and still find quality time.  You stop listening, paying attention, being aware.  You're too focused on "doing" that you can't appreciate "being".  That's me.  A lot of the time.  I've taken "busy" to an unhealthy place.  A schedule so jam packed that only eight mid-week evenings are still free in an entire month.

So when my Monday night D-group meetings got moved to Sundays after church, I did an internal happy dance.  A free evening.  A gift from God!

And you know that I was initially inclined to do?  Schedule it.  I actually started wracking my brain to think of all the people I've wanted to see and just haven't had time to see lately, and then I stopped.  This is how the insanity begins.  This is invariably how I end up at this point time and time again.

The longer I let my mind wrap around a free evening each week, the calmer I feel.  Life necessitates boundaries.  Scheduling boundaries need to exist.  I can only do so much for so many people in any given time.  And I can't effectively give to people when I'm completely depleted.  But for some reason, scheduling time just for myself seems like a waste.  It still puzzles me.

Perhaps that is because my time is invaluable.  In fact, I had a conversation with a friend where I realized that tithing is no big deal, but the giving of my time is the real sacrifice.  With a finite number of hours in the day and days in the week, and countless things that "need to" and "should" get done, there just never seems to be enough time.  I want to do it all, but I can't. 

I don't frequently wish that I lived in another era, I'm rather fond of modern convenience, but the slower pace of times gone is something I wish we had more of now.  How did we get to the point of never-ending appointments, meetings, assignments.  Is that really the cost of "modern convenience" or have we lost sight of things?

Salem Alliance

I was heavily involved at Dayspring Fellowship when I was in middle school.  Heavily to the point of getting overwhelmed.  I was on leadership (S.A.L.T.), I volunteered in the children's department (for everything, regular weekends, Wednesday nights, holidays, special events, etc...), and I was frequently at the church just to hang out.  It's entirely possible that I spent more time at Dayspring than I spent at home.  Partially because I saw Dayspring as a home.  Partially because I didn't have many non-church friends in middle school.

Freshman year of high school I struggled.  The cliques grew like tree roots among the McNary kids.  Unfortunately I didn't attend the only public high school in Keizer, so I automatically had nothing to talk to my old friends about.  I eventually just stopped going.

Six months to a year later I decided to jump back on the horse and try out other churches in Salem.  A large group of friends who went to my school also went to Salem Alliance.  I decided to start there.

I critiqued it as a guest, visited for a couple months and then one day I decided that it was my new church.  As a sophomore in high school I had already picked my church.  And I was really happy about it.  I felt welcomed and comfortable there.  Sure, I stopped going to the youth group after Junior year, sat by myself a lot of times, and never took the effort to get to know people there, but it still felt like home.  I went every week, even if I was all by myself.

Moving away from home for college was when I realized just how much I missed Salem Alliance.  I missed Salem, my family, and my home too, but there was always something special about Salem Alliance.  I tried other churches and always felt snobby when I couldn't get myself to go back.  The best I could figure was that I had already made a decision about "my" church.  And all other churches just didn't measure up.  My loyalty runs deep.

I drove home most weekends, or just listened to podcasts of the sermons on Sunday morning instead of attending other churches.  I just couldn't force myself to go to churches I knew would never be able to measure up.

Fast forward a few years; a couple months after college graduation I found myself working part time for Salem Alliance.  Something that was unfathomable to me initially.  I think it took two weeks of working there before I realized the awesome gig I actually had.  I was a part of a team.  An amazing group of people who cared about me.  That young, part-time Preschool curriculum prep girl who worked a completely random schedule.  I did monotonous cutting, photocopying, and prepping rooms, but I loved everything about it regardless.  I threw extra hours in and just never claimed them.  I just wanted to be there, I didn't care if they paid me.  I felt loved, and accepted, and most of all, I felt known--and that feeling was intoxicating.  I took awful part-time jobs to supplement my income SO that I could keep my curriculum prep job.  It was honestly worth it.  I would have done anything to keep that job.

After a year, necessary budget cuts had to be made.  Non-essential positions were eliminated.  Mine included.  I cried.  A lot.  I remember my brother trying to work through future plans with me.  He asked me what I wanted to do--dream job material.  I stopped and thought about it, but the answer was easy.  I wanted to work for Salem Alliance.  He didn't get it.  And I didn't understand why God would take away what I felt most passionate about.

I made friends in Middle Earth (the floor that all the childrens & youth staff work), and I still end up there often.  Always a 20 minute trip as I quickly catch up with some of the greatest people in the world who still work down there.

What strikes me so much though is the overwhelming feeling of peace I feel just being inside that building.  Salem Alliance is a place of solace for me.  A completely safe haven from the storm.  I always just assumed it was the building, which is a silly assumption, but Christina pointed out that it's God--DUH.  I experience God in that building.  I experience God there like no other place I know.  I feel grounded and centered.  Loved beyond measure.  And surrounded by people who I know, and who know me.  I could spend all day there.  I'd do it too.

What Christina also told me is that I can take that feeling, that experiencing God feeling, with me no matter where I am.  It's borderline overwhelming to think about leaving Salem Alliance.  My tie there is stronger than most people, and a lot of people don't quite understand my fierce passion for my church.  But the general idea of being able to experience that flooded peace anywhere is reassuring too.  That if someday God calls me elsewhere, He'll provide places where I can intimately experience Him too.  Right now I'm here, and I'm content.  But only God knows my future.

More growth

Several months ago God laid mentoring on my heart.

Not just to mentor those younger than me, but to find someone to be my mentor.

To mentor and be mentored.  Succinct.  Easy enough, right?

I told God "okay", and while I worried about finding the "right" mentor (Where would they be?  How would I know when I found them?), God led me to youth ministries.  Apparently I needed to learn what would be necessary of me as a mentor before I could figure out what I needed from someone else.  I get that now.

As I listen to God I keep hearing Him whispering "Holy Spirit".  The next step.  I'll admit, I've shied away from the spiritual realm for most of my life.  Living in the concrete and tangible.  But the last few months have continually brought me back to this spiritual realm and the forces I battle with.  Admittedly, not a comfortable place, but incredibly eye opening.

So of course that is where God would continue with my growing.  Not that youth ministries and all the twists and turns associated with serving there hasn't been enough of a growing experience.  It's time for me to delve into more growth.  Pull up my sleeves and really dig in.  Plus, the only way to peace is through obedience and trust.

I've had a lot of certainty lately.  Lots of times where I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, or pointed in the right direction.  It's nice.  And it's terrifying.  The clouded feeling of never knowing what was next made it really easy to ignore things or not really move forward.  But the cloud seems to have dissipated.  It's still unknown territory, but I can see the signs.

I'm still afraid of the unknown though.  And I'm afraid of what this new step might practically mean for me.

Looks like it's time to jump regardless.