Divisions and Diagnostics

It's strange to come home when you divide your time between places. 

Yesterday, I returned home from the city. Falling in love with Chicago, I feel a strange compartmentalization in my heart that I'm trying to work through and process. You see, I'm in love with the Northwoods, too, which is a completely different everything: isolation, quiet, crickets, birds, bears, trees, the stars, my church, lakes, family. Contrast that with: friends, the noise, campus, vibrancy, concrete, mazes of streets and buses and trains. I refuse to use to term "my other life," because it is all, by God' grace, part of mine.

Somehow, I fit in well in both places. Somehow, the complexity of my personality has adapted to both. Somehow, I can love both. I am still myself; yet, I do feel an odd sense of division. Can I be all me in both places? Are certain parts of my personality more visible when I'm on my own in the city versus living at home with my family? How have I changed since going away? Was it for better or for worse? And how can I hang on to what I have remembered?

The last thing I want to do is slough off all my experiences and relationships and lessons learned now that I have returned home for the summer. I have a feeling I need to pray more about this. Spirit, help me to live out of the truths I know and continue to love well.

Just because I came back doesn't mean that I cease encouraging, praying, reading the Word, studying, planning, or communicating with those from Chicago. Nothing is wasted. Nothing was for naught.

There is much to learn and do this summer as well. Even though it's a little (sarcasm) quieter up here, there is much life to live and family to love and work to do for the Kingdom. Jesus hasn't changed, either.

So, as I spend some days getting back to life up here and starting jobs and slowing down, I will be in prayer and walking by His strength. Father, keep my eyes fixated on you despite my change in location. The Rock won't move.

Adios and Endings

Tonight is the last night before my closest friends and I begin to separate for the summer. The first, Kyle, leaves tomorrow morning.

I feel this odd sense of bittersweetness. I have never experienced a community like this where one can grow to love people so deeply after knowing them for such a short time. God is alive in the people here, and he has challenged me, tested me, and taught me so much. My chest hurts with how much I care for my brothers and sisters here on campus, and I can't imagine being separated from them.

As I watch the seniors walk on Saturday, I know I will think about this fall when their empty seats will be filled by the next crowd, faces unknown to me. As people disappear from my life, I will no longer glance up to see them as they walk in the room or hear their voices calling me from the plaza. Their physical presence will abruptly fade from my life.

My roommate is leaving for a California internship where she will engage in ministry to young girls coming out of sex slavery. I will not see her for seven months. I have to clean up, pack up, and walk away to head home.

 I can't bear to leave, but I must.

Things are changing, and it's far easier said than done. We grow out of our years into new ones. It's inevitable, but a hard pill to swallow, and God doesn't throw us into situations we can't handle. I've been in so much prayer. It's so hard.

BUT.

I have something wonderful to go back to: home.

My family, a new job (or two), friends coming to visit, refreshment, time to process, church, ministry. It will be a great summer--I know it. The Lord has so much in store. It's just a different kind of life for a few months that I will have to embrace.

All this makes me think of heaven. We were not created to have to say "goodbye"; our citizenship is in heaven, and our hearts are restless for full fulfillment in the presence of God for eternity. It's shattering to realize that we, as believers, will actually be together forever. These "goodbyes" are not by any means permanent. We WILL see one another again, for we are in Christ. It may seem like it's over, but it's not.

God has a plan, and the roads ends in glorious eternity with him. The flickers of love and fellowship I experience here will be completely real when I am with Jesus, for I will no longer see through a glass darkly but will be fully known and fully united with him and my brothers and my sisters.

We may be parting ways now, but we have a hope that is an anchor for the soul. Only now have I begun to understand what that means, and praise God for it. I must remain in prayer and not lose or forget what has happened here for me in Chicago this past school year.

As we lift our eyes to the One who will never leave us, may we be reminded of the eternal Home that awaits us where we never have to say "adios" again.  

Angst and Alaska

It's funny how one thing can suddenly change your entire attitude, and you don't even know why.

Yesterday was wicked sweet--party in the campus plaza, comedy show with friends, pranking, being able to say I can longboard now, and late-night junk-food-filled conversations with brothers in the plaza until past curfew.

Today was honestly good. Church was great. Studying a little for finals was great. Calling my mom was great. Hanging out with friends and getting soaked to the skin while attempting to walk to BOGO at Chipotle was great. I loved it.

Then I got back. 

I don't know, it was weird. All of sudden, I was delivering a burrito bowl to a friend at work and she goes, "Are you okay? Something's up." I was spacey, not really in it, drifting off in conversation. I felt...off a little bit, a little angsty. I blame it on that boy reappearing into my life, me losing five dollars I found today, and a missed cupcake opportunity from said boy. Why they must all carry messenger bags from Fossil and travel with friends that bake, I do not know.

I was watching "The Picture of Dorian Gray" and eating my leftover Chipotle when I took a break to mingle in emotional instability with a friend. We just told each other exactly how we were feeling, and it was messy and angry and chock-full of angst. I don't know how all these weird emotions cluttered up my heart, and I was asking the Lord to help me, just pounding Jesus's words about being the Bread of Life into my head. 

Jesus...it's so hard to believe when I feel so restless and depressed. When bands from Alaska are chirping about foolproof plans and learning who you are, it can only cheer me up for so long. When food and fury and foolery doesn't work, I sink into an even deeper pit of angst. Yes, Augustine said that famous line about finding rest in You, etc. etc. etc....but right here, right now, my emotional state leaves something to be desired.

Father, Lavoy and laughter can't do anything; I confess my need for you. Spirit, fill me. Enough of this flesh and freak-out business. I. Need. You. To. Fill. Me. With. Your. Peace. 

Lift my eyes, Jesus, because I can't anymore. I am so confused and lost without You. All my heart wants to do is pump out turmoil.

Candids and Crashers

I completed the last day of class today. Besides two finals next week, it's done. Whoa.

I'm experiencing the oddest mix of emotions--happy for the summer, excitement that I'm moving on to another year of school, bittersweet about brothers and sisters who aren't coming back to campus, frustration at the rate time is passing. I've been pretty open about this, and most others I talk to are feeling the same way. I want so badly to treasure these last days, and today was no exception.

So, I lived it up.

I went out with friends to get homemade sodas from a hole-in-the-wall to celebrate turning in our last paper, took fun photos around campus, learned to longboard from a friend this afternoon and subsequently went out late tonight to hit the streets with some guys, Gospel Choir concert, ice cream, hung out in the plaza with my bros as they tried to convince me to go out to the beach for an all-nighter adventure. Meeting new friends and checking in with the old. Oh, and another friend of mine gave me cinnamon rolls from his work. It was good. 

Despite the fun and the wonderful times I had today, however, I can say candidly that I struggle with being hopeful and peaceful about my future. Only by the Lord's grace can I say, "I'm ready to leave this amazing city, campus, and community for a little while to go recharge with my family." He is the Satisfaction, the Bread of Life which fills me up and keeps me going, fulfilled, even if I'm not involved with crazy social activities or a mushrooming ministry or a positive relationship. Even when my longings feel unnoticed and I lose sight of who I am in Christ, even when every single thing doesn't make sense and the world is crashing around me and I can't believe God even cares, I. Can. Trust. His. Promises.

Because he gave me himself. And that is forever enough.

God hears my candidness and knows how deeply I love this community. God hears my candidness and knows how I long for heaven and perfection. God hears my candidness and knows how I desire a relationship with a man who loves him and can love me. 

He has filled me and helped me to see, satisfying my heart and giving me peace for today. My eyes want to keep taking this in forever, but I must trust that there is somewhere better.

To him be all glory, honor, and praise. Amen.

Teaching and Tearing

I find myself asking God so many times in my life, "Lord, what are you teaching me with this? Why did you show me this? What is the reason why this happened?"

Today, I had training for the women's ministry group I'm blessed to be a part of next year. We talked about discipleship by modeling Christ. We talked about the importance of reminding this campus of the Gospel and living our lives in humble, sacrificial, servant leadership. Essentially, I am so excited to be involved in this, especially the event planning part of things. God is eternally good to me, and I don't deserve to be his child, let alone helping his other children closer to Him.

What a gift. What a privilege. God is teaching me way more than I could ever express or imagine and understand. He is teaching me that he is real, that I am loved, that I am forgiven, that I have brothers and sisters, and that I belong in his family. These are truths of the Gospel, the good news, and I struggle to live them out daily. My heart is continually torn between my flesh and my spirit. Living the life Jesus asks is a battle, not against flesh and blood but against spiritual things we cannot see. Darkness and light. Good and evil. Ephesians 6.

Tearing my hands and eyes and heart away from the things of this earth is the most difficult struggle we ever have to face, Do I run back to the drugs or do I run to my Bible? Do I cling to the refrigerator or do I cling to the truth? Do I fight, by the Spirit and grace of my Savior, or do I cave? Do I believe the lies that I need to change myself or be perfect in order to be loved by a man, or do I walk in the truth that I am exactly whom the Creator has made me to be?

Do I do what I ought to do? Or do I sin?

There is too much at stake to ignore these questions and do what "feels good." Walking in the city alone at night may feel good and make me feel like an independent woman or whatever, but it's stupid and can really hurt me in the end. The flesh ALWAYS feels good in the moment, but the rewards of tearing our heart away are greater in the end.

The rewards are greater. May I tear away my eyes and sit at the feet of Jesus, who is teaching me more than I could imagine about this life and the next.