Several months ago I sat at lunch with some ladies who really have become my Portland family. We all ordered our normal salads and a generous pile of sweet potato fries and joked about the idea of booking tickets to Hawaii. We decided to make it less of a joke and more of reality, and now, i sit from our deck over looking the gorgeous pacific ocean. And its raining right now. And its gorgeous.
The Lord never fails to bring all things - events, friendships, conversations and experiences - in His perfect timing. The sway in Hawaiian culture, vibrancy of color, welcoming bitterness of fresh coffee, the crispness of salt water in the early morning - these things breathe life and hope into my soul.
Shortly before leaving I had one of the best counseling sessions I've had yet. The beauty of meeting with Susie is i often leave with more questions than answers, but the questions are hopeful. Like finally i'm meeting the sets of questions that inspire forward movement instead of despondency.
This is one of the first times in years i feel a dramatic pull, a more settled feeling, a more cementing peace that my life is perfectly okay with where it is. Beyond a desire to accept the place i've found myself, there is less in me that is defensive and fighting and panicking about my future and the past that has affected it.
I've been reflecting on why arriving to this point has been so difficult. It seems so elementary - this idea of letting go, and living in the now, and trusting that the Lord that holds on more tightly to me than I necessarily hold to him, is bringing about his purpose for my life in His, in this, perfect timing. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that i have actively been struggling with this question for the last 3 years, and probably before that, although i couldn't have verbalized it then. I love the verse in Isaiah 46 - " My counsel shall stand and I will accomplish my purpose." This idea of 'perfect timing' obviously runs throughout scripture. I think of Jesus. I think about 'how in the fulness of His timing' Jesus ministry began. That was an implied wait. I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about the subject of waiting, and the normalcy of it, and contrast that with our culture right now with smart phones and the omnipresent wifi and how we are a culture that can't afford to wait at all. So often i see my own happiness contingent on the timing of events, accomplishments, and relationships.
I also think of loss. Of pain, of need, of relationship, of closeness. Of loneliness, of human touch for our hands and our hearts. That's made this season difficult. Having to hold on and wait for holes to be filled, that frankly, may be better left unfilled for this time. Timing and waiting makes those things so difficult to feel through.
Waiting is exponentially harder when i compare the trajectory of my life to those in my inner circle of life. Of course it's always easy to see her boyfriend, or her husband, or his perfect little kiddo. It's easy to see the successful careers of others and compare their clarity in direction to that of my own.
Its hard to grasp that the Lords calling in my life right now looks incredibly different to what i ever wanted, perceived, or what i view around me.
About a year ago i was asked a question that has continued to stir in my heart and my head. A dear friend of mine challenged me to ask the Lord to teach me what it means to dream. The conversation we had on the phone is so vivid to me. I realize now that moment mattered immensely to where i am right now. That question was asked when i let go of my plan for my life (although i must say i immediately fought to create a different plan in its stead), took a step in the very much unknown and moved to Portland. The difficulty of dreaming is that it's so closely intwined, if not completely interchangeable, with the idea of hope. And hope at the time happened to be ranked up there with a lot of other bad 4 lettered words in my book.
Things have slowly been shifting over the last couple months. And for that i have to thank the Lords devotion to moving and breaking and mending my heart heart, Susie, and several dear friends - Amanda, Caitie, Laura, Linda, and my dear roommates Justine and Megs - you are the best girlfriends i could ever ask for, and i am in your debt for the countless repeated conversations i put you through. Truly saints. I used to be (and still am from time to time if i'm honest) so frustrated with my job and my lack of career, and now i realize that this last year has been purposefully and actively kept slow. Its in this slowness, in this dryness, the same scenery that caused me such foreboding anxiety and endless frustration, that i now realize the Lord has been so present. So close. So intentional. And that does bring tears to this girl who has spent so much time fighting to understand why life, of which i have a deep love for, has seemed so gray for so long.
I can't explain this, but i know that all that dryness loosened my grip on my life and my life plan enough to really allow me to feel free from my own bondage of needing to keep myself 'on track.' And by on track, i mean being apart of something meaningful in my job, in my relationships, and in my calling in ministry. I realize now that God has graciously humbled me without completely destroying or humiliating me. By his grace, i slowing fighting less, and giving way more to the grace of living in the middle. The grace of living without knowing certainty of direction and plan. Graceful, hopeful uncertainty.
This freedom has made dreaming feel safe. Hope feels safe. Vibrant flowers and beautiful scenes are more closely related to the awesomeness of life instead of fleeting moments of beauty like they used to.
I'm learning, slowly, and it is good. This life right no is actually good. And that my friends, is a big deal for me.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Take the moment.
I write today from a quiet apartment, with a small glass of wine, big bowl of soup, compliments of a half empty refrigerator, and ready to write with a full heart.
It feel like i've been living within a whirl wind again. It's hard to believe that only a couple weeks ago i crossed the finish line of my first full marathon. That moment, that accomplishment, that impact is still hard to describe. It was all the training and the choices made leading up to the event that made the finish significant. Like somehow i was defying some constraint and proving, more to myself than anybody else, that i can accomplish things outside of the ordinary. There is something about sweat and blood, tears and pain during an incredible race that unmistakably points towards the reality of what we all carry day in and day out. That somehow life is marred with accomplishments and defeats, joys and hurts, contentment and restlessness. We all journey through lifes ups and downs, but finishing that race felt like coming out on top. It felt like defeating something big, even if i wasn't exactly sure what that 'big' was.
I am so thankful i ran alone. Alone to pour out my own anguish and grief and frustration before the Father who knows. I swear the first 15 miles were spent just trying not to cry about life, completely removed from the race. I'm grateful, no thankful, that the Lord chose to teach me through that experience. I haven't exactly had the softest, most teachable heart recently.
The weather changed again. Spring happened, and is still happening, but summer is seeping in. Most mornings the sun rises over my head, through my window before i have a chance to roll out of bed. I will be sad to leave this apartment one day - sad to not feel warmth at my eyes first opening. That's been good for my soul the last couple weeks. The morning sun inspires me to pray, cultivates thankfulness, reminds me there is so much hope all around me. Life, and it's frustrations and irritations may not change with the seasons, but hope is still there. Sunshine reminds me of a God who always shows up.
With the change in seasons also came the birth of two very important girls. They are now part of my life, and I love them dearly already. Elaina Nichole Davenport and Evalynn Joy Ledezma. They are bundles of joy. They also are reminders. Of faithfulness, and goodness, and the continual work of the Lord in our lives. I love these little girls, and i love their momma's dearly who have been gracious enough to share their journeys with me. Babies give me excitement about the things to come.
I'm trying to keep softening my heart. I'm trying to loosen up and relax. i'm trying to cultivate trust. There is safety in trusting the Lord, there is safety in accepting the depth to which he loves me. I'm not sure how i got so far away from that reality, what made me stop believing so deeply the love he has for me. But something did.
I'm still getting back on track. Back on track in accepting that the Lords heart for me is simply be in his presence. In my heart i want this to be enough, and in some moments, it is. I know the spirit is working in me - tears come easily in songs, or in reading the scripture aloud. I know that i belong to Christ, and he is faithful to continue to work within me the plans of His future. But i am also painfully aware of this consuming groaning for change to be now. Somedays i feel like i would sacrifice anything for a shard of clarity, and often i just sacrifice far to much. I know i've broken the Lords heart, know that i continually break my own my heart, and all for little to show for it.
But i wonder if this is what real life is like. Trying to fight flesh and live in the spirit. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing.
The only criticism i received about my marathon came from one of the only people i really would have listened to anyways. She asked me why i didn't take my moment. My moment right after finishing. My moment for me. She said i started to take it, i started to cry, started to let myself relish, but then i turned to the crowd. I wish i had taken that moment now. I'm so bad at taking the moments to celebrate and appreciate and let myself be in the moment.
I've quit asking the Lord to reveal to me what he has in store for me. I've quit asking what's next, and in many ways, it's also been the end of hoping for anything to change. I'm not sure that's right, i'm not sure if that's completely spoken like someone defeated, but i do know it's different approach from what i've chosen the last several months. After the race i decided I'm done, as much as i'm able, crying over all the confusion and frustration and weight i've felt over the last several months. I'm tired of hashing out the hopelessness i feel in me.
I have to trust that the Lord can work through this mess of me. I'm not the Charissa anymore that displays an incredible amount of leadership and faith like during the bible school years. I'm not the Charissa who faithfully prays for the Lord to change the hearts of the ones she deeply loves with vigor and certainty. i'm not the Charissa who always felt like like there was more to give.
In many ways, i feel more like my a real person, myself in my rawest form, and it's not a beautiful sight. I'm closely aware of my fears and my failures that i ever have been. The reality of Christ in my life is powerful, and smaller and bigger than i've ever really understood before. I don't feel put together, and most days i feel like i'm barely hanging on at the hinges. I do question if the Lord has abandoned me, but somehow i'm simultaneously rooted in the truth that the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells richly, deeply, in me. I know that the Lord is using this time in my life intentionally. That somehow this hopeless job, this hopeless season, all this crushing uncertainty actually means something with intrinsically more value that i am able to understand. The last several years have been the means to some end - and i have to keep believing that for my own sanity.
I'm not praying for change anymore. I'm not even praying for the Lord to give me the strength and perseverance to walk through this season well. I think i might be beyond ever deserving the title of 'well'. I pray the Lord would continue to reveal himself to this ragged, rugged heart of mine. And he is. In finishing races. In morning sunshine. In births of beautiful bundles of promises. I am choosing to believe these things are just snapshots of what He has for me, and hoping for my own sake to let them sink in and make some difference in my everyday living.
I don't feel special or precious or worthy or pretty or valuable. My flesh is fighting my Spirit and my heart feels slashed within the middle. I feel very mediocre and i want to learn how to feel differently.
There is a quote out of an old book i love. Spoken by Josephine March. " I am not afraid of storms for i am learning to sail my ship." I'm not fearless in my confidence right now, but i know that i am indeed learning. and right now, that's all i can ask for.
It feel like i've been living within a whirl wind again. It's hard to believe that only a couple weeks ago i crossed the finish line of my first full marathon. That moment, that accomplishment, that impact is still hard to describe. It was all the training and the choices made leading up to the event that made the finish significant. Like somehow i was defying some constraint and proving, more to myself than anybody else, that i can accomplish things outside of the ordinary. There is something about sweat and blood, tears and pain during an incredible race that unmistakably points towards the reality of what we all carry day in and day out. That somehow life is marred with accomplishments and defeats, joys and hurts, contentment and restlessness. We all journey through lifes ups and downs, but finishing that race felt like coming out on top. It felt like defeating something big, even if i wasn't exactly sure what that 'big' was.
I am so thankful i ran alone. Alone to pour out my own anguish and grief and frustration before the Father who knows. I swear the first 15 miles were spent just trying not to cry about life, completely removed from the race. I'm grateful, no thankful, that the Lord chose to teach me through that experience. I haven't exactly had the softest, most teachable heart recently.
The weather changed again. Spring happened, and is still happening, but summer is seeping in. Most mornings the sun rises over my head, through my window before i have a chance to roll out of bed. I will be sad to leave this apartment one day - sad to not feel warmth at my eyes first opening. That's been good for my soul the last couple weeks. The morning sun inspires me to pray, cultivates thankfulness, reminds me there is so much hope all around me. Life, and it's frustrations and irritations may not change with the seasons, but hope is still there. Sunshine reminds me of a God who always shows up.
With the change in seasons also came the birth of two very important girls. They are now part of my life, and I love them dearly already. Elaina Nichole Davenport and Evalynn Joy Ledezma. They are bundles of joy. They also are reminders. Of faithfulness, and goodness, and the continual work of the Lord in our lives. I love these little girls, and i love their momma's dearly who have been gracious enough to share their journeys with me. Babies give me excitement about the things to come.
I'm trying to keep softening my heart. I'm trying to loosen up and relax. i'm trying to cultivate trust. There is safety in trusting the Lord, there is safety in accepting the depth to which he loves me. I'm not sure how i got so far away from that reality, what made me stop believing so deeply the love he has for me. But something did.
I'm still getting back on track. Back on track in accepting that the Lords heart for me is simply be in his presence. In my heart i want this to be enough, and in some moments, it is. I know the spirit is working in me - tears come easily in songs, or in reading the scripture aloud. I know that i belong to Christ, and he is faithful to continue to work within me the plans of His future. But i am also painfully aware of this consuming groaning for change to be now. Somedays i feel like i would sacrifice anything for a shard of clarity, and often i just sacrifice far to much. I know i've broken the Lords heart, know that i continually break my own my heart, and all for little to show for it.
But i wonder if this is what real life is like. Trying to fight flesh and live in the spirit. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing.
The only criticism i received about my marathon came from one of the only people i really would have listened to anyways. She asked me why i didn't take my moment. My moment right after finishing. My moment for me. She said i started to take it, i started to cry, started to let myself relish, but then i turned to the crowd. I wish i had taken that moment now. I'm so bad at taking the moments to celebrate and appreciate and let myself be in the moment.
I've quit asking the Lord to reveal to me what he has in store for me. I've quit asking what's next, and in many ways, it's also been the end of hoping for anything to change. I'm not sure that's right, i'm not sure if that's completely spoken like someone defeated, but i do know it's different approach from what i've chosen the last several months. After the race i decided I'm done, as much as i'm able, crying over all the confusion and frustration and weight i've felt over the last several months. I'm tired of hashing out the hopelessness i feel in me.
I have to trust that the Lord can work through this mess of me. I'm not the Charissa anymore that displays an incredible amount of leadership and faith like during the bible school years. I'm not the Charissa who faithfully prays for the Lord to change the hearts of the ones she deeply loves with vigor and certainty. i'm not the Charissa who always felt like like there was more to give.
In many ways, i feel more like my a real person, myself in my rawest form, and it's not a beautiful sight. I'm closely aware of my fears and my failures that i ever have been. The reality of Christ in my life is powerful, and smaller and bigger than i've ever really understood before. I don't feel put together, and most days i feel like i'm barely hanging on at the hinges. I do question if the Lord has abandoned me, but somehow i'm simultaneously rooted in the truth that the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells richly, deeply, in me. I know that the Lord is using this time in my life intentionally. That somehow this hopeless job, this hopeless season, all this crushing uncertainty actually means something with intrinsically more value that i am able to understand. The last several years have been the means to some end - and i have to keep believing that for my own sanity.
I'm not praying for change anymore. I'm not even praying for the Lord to give me the strength and perseverance to walk through this season well. I think i might be beyond ever deserving the title of 'well'. I pray the Lord would continue to reveal himself to this ragged, rugged heart of mine. And he is. In finishing races. In morning sunshine. In births of beautiful bundles of promises. I am choosing to believe these things are just snapshots of what He has for me, and hoping for my own sake to let them sink in and make some difference in my everyday living.
I don't feel special or precious or worthy or pretty or valuable. My flesh is fighting my Spirit and my heart feels slashed within the middle. I feel very mediocre and i want to learn how to feel differently.
There is a quote out of an old book i love. Spoken by Josephine March. " I am not afraid of storms for i am learning to sail my ship." I'm not fearless in my confidence right now, but i know that i am indeed learning. and right now, that's all i can ask for.
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