on nehemiah and rebuilding.

i hate the simplicity of sin. i hate how it begs for us to allow it in every moment of ours lives. and i think what is hardest about my time spent in the states in just that: sin has the ability to consume here. in some ways it is always welcomed and given a “free-pass” to enter in. in some ways, its accepted as who we are. and in all reality, its the acceptance that makes it so ugly in my eyes, so hated, so heartbreaking.

and to be honest with you, i hate the states for that. for the free reign of sin. for the way it beckons and calls those who were once trapped in this, or once enslaved by that. for the way it comes back to haunt and ruins souls, and the recovery roads they were once traveling. sin distorts and its disgusting. and my deep heartache is that the place where i hold my nationality accepts it, finds a home for it in the culture, even loves it to an extent. sin is easy and its not something that requires though or self-control. sin simply consumes.

 

i can’t sleep tonight no matter how tired my eyes say they are. i simply can’t sleep. i opened nehemiah and read his story again. i wonder how much he didn’t want to return to jerusalem to rebuild the wall. i wonder how much he hated the place that was so burned and destroyed that no one else desired to even try to rebuild…i wonder if he hated the sin of the people that lived within, their lack of trust in God, their failure to take him at his word and to dwell in the palm of his hand. i wonder, even though sadness gripped him before the king, how much he didn’t want to return, didn’t want to rebuild or begin the process that it would require before the rebuilding even started.

and yet nehemiah did go back and rebuild. and he stayed until it was finished and dedicated to the Lord. nehemiah stayed 52 days for the rebuilding project. and crystal feels like she’s suffocating by the thickness of sin that lives here after only 20 days. and folks, i still have 15 days left to go. it is so appalling. it is so horribly disgusting, and i want nothing to do with the ways of life that i have engaged in before…or the ways of this sinful place that rage before me. sin is easy and it consumes. sin destroys the walls of progress that jesus has built in our lives. so how did nehemiah gather the courage to return to Jerusalem for the rebelling of that progress? that answer comes easily. the Lord equipped him to return, to encourage, to support, to uphold, to make sure that no one destroyed these walls again through the powerful workings of sin itself.

 

so here i am in the place that disgusts me, with memories that haunt me, and an aching soul for those left trapped in those places. i’ve been asked to be here, and that’s evident. to understand why i hate the states so much, to understand where i need to receive healing from jesus for that hatred, but also to receive encouraging stories like nehemiah’s return to jerusalem.

yes i hate sin. yes i hate the sin that has gripped my life in the days that have passed and the ways that sin tries to grip my life as i came home. it shows up at my doorstep randomly. it shows up through phone calls and old photos. sin wanders in whenever we let our guard down and whenever we take off the armor we have been dressed with as his kiddos. sin consumes the moment we decide to live within the culture surrounding us, no matter how great or small that appears at the time.

 

i wonder if this place will always be so hated for me. i wonder if the sin will be less consuming the next time i visit. i wonder how many more individuals it will overtake BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY how many will choose to stand up and get out of its life-destroying habits. forever praying for this country.

flying and feeling.

I’m on my last flight home, and my emotions are stirring. The guy behind me won’t be quiet. The guy in front of me just cracked open a beer. The guy next to me is cuddled up next to his wife and they are watching something on his phone. And me? I currently have my coat on, hood up, and tears are falling down my face while I listen to incredibly loud music to forget how I feel for this moment. It’s not that I’m angry or upset or unnerved. I’m also not smiling or in the mood to laugh either. For a few seconds, I’m letting myself simply feel… feel the ache of leaving a place I love but also the “content-ness” of seeing my mom and sister in a matter of hours. The tears fall because once again my life has been wrecked by the beauty of my time away…the precious moments of this past week of being in a place I absolutely love with people who have become my family.

The wrecking process is slightly overwhelming…and I’m not sure how to handle it always. To be honest, this wrecking process begs of me to be patient, to wait on the right time to leave, to return, or to stay for lifetime. This wrecking process includes a rain coat coated with my tears, slightly red eyes, and a heart that begs to sit in the arms of Jesus forever…with all of the Cerritos next to me along with the children and community they serve, but also my mom and sisters. The wrecking process begs me to rid myself of my American-instilled need to know what is next, what is going to happen ten years from now, where I will be living and who I’ll have next to me when my first gray hairs appear. The wrecking process begs of me to study even more the life of Jesus and be an imitator of who he was, who he is, who he will forever be. The wrecking process places me dead last in this world, and I’m grateful…forever grateful.

I’m currently reading a book that I read little by little over the past two years before it was published. Today, I read the weekly chapter on the reality of imitation…the reality of desiring authenticity that is instilled in us North Americans. We want to be authentic, our own person, not like anyone but instead our own original person. And then I read a piece of John 5 that talked about the reality of Jesus not being able to do anything on his own, but instead only what he sees his Father doing…what his Father does, he does. I want to do want Jesus did, what Jesus does, what Jesus will do. I want to see what he is doing around me and follow in those steps…I want to be an active presence of love. While being that active presence of love I want to invite others into this wrecking process with me. Call me crazy but it’s a beautiful thing…this reality of life through another’s eyes, one that has gone before me but walks with me every step of the way. I want to acknowledge the reality that I can’t do this alone, I can do nothing on my own or through my own strength but need to look to him…along with learning to rely on those God has placed around me to help me, to walk with me, to teach me what he has for me to see. And right now I’m thankful for a family who has revealed that to me in this past weekish in Guatemala. To each and everyone of you I owe deep gratitude for your present-ness to the place in which God has given you life.

So I’ll learn to accept the guy behind me that is yelling his stories to his new friend. I’ll forget the wafting smell of beer coming from the guy in front of me. I’ll be happy for the couple next to me in which both individuals find delight in each other. And I’ll find myself thankful that this is my last flight, that I have this raincoat (with a hood) so my tears can silently escape without disturbing everyone else around me. My deepest desires are God’s own delight. Tonight I’ll rest in that.

day twenty five, september.

a breath of fresh air this morning.
the reality that everything is going to work out exactly as I will need it to.
a promise of something new around the corner. something hopeful, something good.
the knowledge that everything will fall directly into place as it should because that’s what Jesus does.

“the deepest form of gratitude we can offer is our own joy.” that joy started with a simple breath of fresh air this morning: a crisp walk, a warm cup of tea, rap music quietly making its presence known.

thank you, september twenty five.

fighting for peace, not shrinking in defeat.

maybe this should be categorized in a folder entitled “old way of life”. ugh.

life is a struggle, even when we are outside of the storm after it has passed over us or through us. every day after requires a conscious effort not to step back under that storm and not to invite it back. wait, why would we invite it back? because life is easier there and we know how each moment progresses to the next. it’s a life we understand because it has been our most recent reality. every day, deciding to step forward instead of remaining stuck or stepping back to what we know, no matter how painful or destructive it may have been.

I say all this to preface what I want to say next. my sister just said her first swear word. my heart dropped. after talking to her, I talked to my mom. she looked me in my eyes and said, “well, she heard you say it yesterday…” this is my fault. I used to swear every other word. I was such an angry teenager; I had such a deflated spirit. I had no confidence or self-esteem and that turned my heart hard and pretty cold. and because I was too tired to be responsible with my words yesterday, I stepped back under that storm. the reality was this: I gave up, fighting for peace in what I was doing and I accepted defeat after a long few days of life. I had done so well, those days had been great with work and life was just simply looking up. then my soul, my whole self decides to step back under that cloud, that storm that had long passed. learn from me: don’t shrink back in defeat…be mindful of your actions and your levels of tiredness/exhaustion enough that you can choose to stand firm in the hardest of moments, the ones where becoming small and bitter seem like the only choices left. forever biting my tongue.

words slip, yes. forgiveness of self is here, promise. I just wonder how many other ways this comes up around me and I can’t see it because I’m blind to it, all the while my heart strings are being tugged painfully. my simple reminder: fight for peace, never shrink in defeat. know yourself well enough to recognize when you are there and when you need the strength of someone close to help fight. it’s the little lessons in life that prove to be the most humbling.

standing in my own skin, unrecognizable.

today has been different. strange. powerful, and even life-giving.

 

i don’t really have words to explain, but i’ll leave you with a few of  the thoughts he handed me today.

1. “you must be less” (john 3.30). http://www.studylight.org/devos/utm (check out march 24)

2. “i was crushed by the weight of the cross. how is your cross crushing you, my daughter?” (the importance of the cross. luke 22-24)

3. “obey my voice alone, precious child.” (thank you, myrka.) http://www.iamsecond.com/seconds/myrka-dellanos-2 (don’t fret, it has subtitles.)

 

today brought chills, literally, along with trembling hands, a pounding heart, shaking legs, and a rushing wind of something life-giving. holy spirit, have your way within my soul.

that which is unknown.

courage is all i find myself reaching for today. courage to simply go, to believe i won’t get lost, to ask to feel complete peace or total unrest. courage is simply standing one moment longer when fear asks me to cave and crumble and give up. courage is taking the sunshine streaming in through these windows and allowing it to give me life, a new sense of strength. courage is knowing who i am, who he is, what i can do because of his life that is found inside my soul. reaching for courage.

how scary. daunting. potentially destructive, if i am rejected. i have faith it will swing the other way. i have courage it will be for my good, for my growth. i have courage.

two weeks later.

a soul that has been spilled. words have leaked. i have been honest.

 

there is only one thing that i wish to share tonight, whether you are consumed with peace or overwhelmed with depression. there is no point in sugar-coating what is true, what is real. there is no reason in pretending or speaking without clarity. spill your soul with the words you truly need to say. be honest with someone as to where you stand at this very moment. if you need help, don’t be afraid to reach out for it…ask with boldness for exactly what you need in this moment. if you find yourself flooded with chaos and anger, talk. be real. light up this world with the reality of what speaking truthfully looks like. if you have found peace in the life you have been given, share it for you never know how you will encourage another individual to continue on…to press on in the midst of heartache and failure and lost hope. if you have have a soul full of joy, spill it, share it, give it away.

 

two weeks ago, my heart was in a different state. i had peace and joy and loved where i stood in life. i understood my current place of existence, and i was truly ok with what life was shaping out to be. currently, i stand in another place. i find that my life has been blurred, my eyes are watery and i’m not seeing so clearly the things that God is doing. i have moments full of anxiety and tears…and moments of anger for where i stand. i don’t exactly understand why i should wait to do the things that God has placed on my heart; part of me desires to be in another place with people i call family, too. but at the same time, i long to be here, in a different capacity, with a different title, maybe another name. bottom line is, everything has been blurred. except one thing: my desire to love children that have been abandoned, abused, set aside. i miss little david and dulce, anibal and efrain, kevin and yoli and anayeli. i would love to hug them, watch movies with them again, cook for them and help them get cleaned up after a long day (and week with no running water since i saw them last). that’s what makes my heart beat…loving little ones, serving them with all i am and all i have been given. maybe this blurred-in-between-time has been given to create clarity around this one thing that i do understand, that i can see clearly. maybe this blurred state of existence will allow me to be real enough and honest enough to find exactly where God desires my life to head, where he desires for me to live and work and exist. and maybe i’ll hear his voice instead of the lies breathed  into my life daily.

 

this soul has been spilled. words were leaked and emotions were poured into the air around me. maybe it’s hard to  breathe sometimes, but there is hope in a sunrise, in a smile from a dear friend, in the ability to be real with someone. this, too, is good. this, too, shall turn into something beautiful…another piece of this journey. i don’t understand right now, and that’s ok. the truth can’t be sugar-coated…and life can’t be faked for too long. be real, be honest, share your heart. live in this moment, giving the world whatever you may have to offer…no matter how small you think your offering may be. the only requirement is being real.

the wrestling within the waiting.

i often find myself wrestling through the realities of the world in which we live. i have been given opportunity after opportunity to see pain and poverty and filth and brokenness. and what i want to make clear is that these opportunities were not asked for, because no human being would ask to see these daunting images that never leave one’s mind. these images are etched across my life forever. and i’m ok with that. these images have changed me, have changed the way i see life. these images constantly provoke wrestling within my heart, within my mind, within my life. in this season of waiting, i am wrestling with the realities that i have seen in my short life.

 

i know what i’m being called to. i heard that clearly december of 2009. but the timing is just so confusing to me. the location is becoming a blurry understanding. you don’t need to look far to see the reality of desperation in which this whole world lives. i have seen so much…so many beautiful children broken and deserted and left for dead. i have seen so many without water to drink, to cook with, to bathe in, to water their crops with in order to make a living. i have seen so many without love, drained of hope, left in places where grace doesn’t dance…because truth hasn’t been spoken into existence yet.

 

i have to believe that i know how to love, just as i am with all my flaws. i have to believe that from my own life experiences, i know how to love those that are hurting and struggling with addictions, with poverty, with plenty, with hunger, with anxiety, with disease, with depression, with bloody fists and raging souls. i have to believe that i have been given enough love to meet the needs of those around me. and i have to believe that if your eyes have been opened to the reality of life, you have been given enough love as well. the wrestling has taken over my soul today…and as i’m waiting, i wish to turn my wrestling into dreaming. my current town of residency has the same amount of pain as the one i am reading about in mozambique, the one i witnessed in malawi, and also the one in which i will visit in just a few short weeks. pain, hunger, pride, depression, death, anger, violence, unrest, addiction, poverty, overabundance, lack of love and hope and grace. lack of joy, of sunshine, of relief. shalom is not taking over but instead chaos reigns. my eyes have seen this, but my heart knows another reality is possible. and maybe it begins with these two eyes that have been shifted, these two hands that have been broken and dirty and torn to shreds. maybe it begins here.

 

i think so many would tell me hope for ‘first world’ couldn’t be found in what we would name as ‘third world’. i think so many would tell me that what i’ve seen and experienced and the ways in which i’ve shifted aren’t my problem, aren’t my concern, aren’t my current reality in which i can touch and move within. and yet those are my siblings. those are the individuals that have captured his heart. that’s why my heart is wrestling in this season of waiting.

 

it’s no mistake that a book i was given a month ago wouldn’t be read until today. the wrestling of the waiting began long ago but can now be seen by my weary and tired eyes. the wrestling within the waiting…this is where my dream begins.

looking back.

i wonder what today would look like if i hadn’t questioned. i wonder what today would have looked like if i hadn’t dared to speak the things that i was being told by a higher being. i wonder what today could be like if i had just let things be…let things go…let things pass as they normally do. i simply wonder.

we are told not to look back, not to say “what if”, not to ask questions. we are told to sit nicely, live in the good that comes our way, and take whatever life brings us with a sense of acceptance.

i didn’t sit so nicely, i questioned the things God was speaking into existence, and i often muttered “what if” statements about the future and about my life. somedays i find myself mad at the way i chose..the questions that led to another individual walking out forever. i will forever miss so many things about that time of my life…but i will also be forever thankful for the things i learned.

 

look back long enough to be thankful, to remember, to treasure the days that have gone before. look back with only enough time to see good, to breathe good over those in which you shared life with at that point. but don’t look back to beat yourself up for the pain, for the questions you spoke aloud, for the courage you were given to speak your heart. don’t look back only to sit in what-ifs….you weren’t made for that.

it’s ok to wonder; its ok to look back and remember. but do so within bounds…within a certain set of lines. don’t hurt yourself, don’t burden yourself. look back, wonder, and step forward with good in your heart from the good that has passed before.

 

look back to breathe in good. leave harm and pain aside. step forward as someone new.

sitting on the floor.

utterly desperate for jesus. utterly desperate, for without him i have no life in me. 

 

even if i’m fully rested, fed completely, satisfied and not thirsty. even if i am clothed with my favorites. even if i work at the greatest coffee shop. without him i have no life in me.

 

that’s something i must remember. that in the midst of beautiful life in which i feel whole, i still am desperate for jesus. in the midst of painful life in which i feel shattered and broken, i am desperate for jesus. that no matter where i find myself to be standing, i will always need jesus.

 

i am utterly desperate. but not for money, or fame, or a relationship. i am utterly desperate for jesus. as i sit on the floor in a cold room i remember that very detail of life. i am and will always be utterly desperate for jesus.