Solitude

The other day I sat outside in the great outdoors, writing a list of all the wondrous things my senses were taking in. I started the list:

1. dawdly ducklings in the pond
2. a warm breeze
3. the scent of toasty roasted beans
4. green newness
5. gentle ripples
6. singing birds
7. relentless workers
8. salty paws
9. solitude

I got to solitude and I had to put my pen down. I watched as all of the people passing by walked silently. Music filled ears and phone filled hands. The humans walked past each other not acknowledging one another, sometimes seemingly going out of their way to not look the person across from them in the eyes. I’m guilty of this daily but in that moment I felt unsettled.

Do you think if we all knew how big this spiritual war is, we’d pass by each other quietly? Do you think if we knew about the war being waged over each of our souls daily, we would rush past each other so quickly? 

These questions flooded my mind and I was overwhelmed with a more settling collection of thoughts. Imagine a world where we know how tough the daily fight is, so we high-five as we walk by. We whisper words of affirmation when we sit near. We smile genuine grins when we lock eyes. Despite all jealousy, resentment, empty words, and condescending looks we still care for the souls around us. We talk about those hurtful feelings because we do care about the souls around us. More often than not I forget that this battle is not within my anxious mind or my tired soul. It’s not with a girl who tried to impair my value or with a boy who dismantled my heart. It’s not with a family member who forgot or a stranger who took. This battle is with the Enemy.

“¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” Ephesians 6:12

That doesn’t mean hurt inflicted by the people around us is okay or something we brush off. In fact I think it’s quite the opposite. It means we confront and we comfort. We point out and we protect. We acknowledge and we grow. This means the same thing for the unsettlement we feel within ourselves. We confront and we comfort. We point out and we protect. We acknowledge and we grow.

Food for thought.

 

 

 

 

 

Steve Appreciation Post

Do you know Steve in the Green Bean? Have you said hello to him today? Have you said hello to the people that have taken care of your food today? Have you thanked them for preparing it for you? Have you thanked them for serving you? Did you smile with that beautiful little grin of yours? Kindness rocks. The people around us rock. Thanks, God, for Steve at the Green Bean. Thanks, God, for the ability to show people warmth without words. Thanks, God, for kind words and unique names to call the unique people around us. Thanks, God.

Weeds

A contravening thought comes stomping into the careful green garden of my mind and sews itself in as deep as it can furrow, only to harvest at any new sign of life. As soon as the favorable sprout receives too much attention, the weed manifests only to grow taller; demanding to be seen first and foremost. The weed is then watered. The weed sucks the sunlight. The weed takes the best temperature. The richest soil. The weed takes. The weed receives. The sprout withers, understanding it takes longer to grow, but knowing it’s well worth it. Still, the weed receives the best. Over and over and over.

The Enemy calls out to me by my brokenness. My head turns around as if it were all that I am. The Living God reaches out to hold me. I slowly back away, certainly that’s not for me.

 

Winter Break

Second night back and it was a tough one.

Driving through this old town that I once lived and loved in and I can’t help but feel confused. So much has changed the past 2 years and Jesus has transformed and used me in many ways. Tonight I felt that He couldn’t use this new Leah in this old place. Or that for some reason this new Leah or real Leah couldn’t be who she was created to be fully here. What a lie. Tonight His Spirit brought me some truth that I want to share with friends that are back “home” for break. God has gone before us this winter break. We are still His children, we are still being transformed, we will still grow, we will still be comforted, we will still live in community, and we will still be loved. AND His Spirit lives inside of us.

John 14:15-17:

¹⁵ “If you love me, keep my commands. ¹⁶ And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— ¹⁷ the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.

That’s good news.

Also: if you haven’t listened to Alicia Keys’ full album of “Girl On Fire” go do it.

Another Aspect of Missional Living

I keep thinking about blogging. What would I say? Who would read it? Do I even have a complete thought? Do my words matter? I’ve gone over all of the things I’m learning.. But have I really learned? Past tense. It’s like I’m waiting for a complete lesson before I put it down on paper.

At the dark 7:30 this morning, I walked to my final and thought about all of the lessons and challenges I’ve been facing and I wondered what I would share if I could. Then I came to the conclusion that I haven’t fully learned very much to be able to share it. I haven’t made a full circle. I could talk about different forms of abuse. But I haven’t come full circle on those things. I could tell the world what it’s like to lose something. Losing a precious person from earth. Losing a relationship. Losing a friendship. But I haven’t come full circle on those things. I haven’t fully learned the best way to respond. The best way to think or feel about something. So then should I even share at all?

As I made this blog, I heard God tell me that my words do matter. All of our words matter. If we are created in His image, then the things that He gives us are in His image. He gives us His word and He gives us our word. Sometimes our human selves taint them. More than sometimes. But I don’t think we give ourselves enough credit on the thoughts and ideas inside of our brains.

Then I think back to my original questions. Should I even share at all? I don’t know if I’ve gained wisdom or insight from this experience yet.

And I think that’s exactly when we’re supposed to share. While we’re learning. The words our good Father gives the people around us can teach us more than we can imagine. Being vulnerable with our community can teach them more. If we’re so afraid of not being whole, then we’ll be upset every time that we find out we aren’t whole. And then we never have the opportunity to show others it’s okay to come to us when they aren’t whole. We never show others that it’s okay to be broken or unpolished. In fact, it’s inevitable. And quite frankly, it’s more beautiful. I would rather spend time with somebody who doesn’t have everything figured out. Somebody who’s asking questions and sharing all of the ideas their brain has. Somebody that knows pain and can show you their side of it. These experiences and these scars we go through and end up with, can teach the people around us sometimes without having them actually go through it. But this only happens when we share. When we open up. When we are vulnerable with where we’re at. When we don’t wait until the things we are learning have become a “full” circle.

As I pack my bags and head back to my old home, I feel a challenge. I feel the challenge of leaving a community of people I live in fellowship with. I feel the challenge of leaving scheduled times of learning about God. I feel the challenge of missing my pals that fill me to the brim. — But I also  feel the challenge of telling my family and old friends what God has been doing this semester. I feel the challenge of sharing what has been painful in my past and what’s painful in my present. I feel the challenge of sharing the uniqueness of my relationship with Jesus. I feel the challenge of being vulnerable.

I think it’s an aspect of missional living I sometimes forget. It seems hard to intertwine the gospel with daily conversation in a natural way. But by sharing what God is doing in my life and what I’m learning, I get to grow closer in friendships while giving the glory to a God who is continuously bold, vulnerable, and open with us. What a cool way to tell stories about Jesus during this Christmas season.

 

 

First post

Hey Ethan Sisko.

I know you’re the only one to read this. Well… see ya.