Spins, Hugs, and Mirrors

I was at the Residence Life desk today with sleep deprivation from finals and hoped that no one asked me to do anything that involved thinking. Fortunately I was a witness to a couple of delightful moments between a little girl and two grown men. The little girl’s name is Katelyn and she is the daughter of the Director for Student Life. Normally Katelyn is 3 yrs old, very shy, has a wonderful laugh and is cautious about who she gives her attention to. In the past I have seen her run from me and others who have wanted to play with her. Two people in particular today were persistent, David and Mac. Today she wasn’t so scared and their persistence paid off. David and Mac would smile, call her name and open wide their arms while they crouched down to her level. She would then run into their arms, hold on tight, and squeal in delight. I saw the delight in both Katelyn’s face and the faces of those who had the privilege of spinning her around.

I thought about how good her dad was at that point. Every time I see them together I see a genuine love between a father and his daughter. He seems to love to surprise her with his presence and she seems to get really excited at the idea of seeing Daddy in places on campus that aren’t in their apartment.  I realized that the only reason she could run up to those two people was because the love David and Mac showed was familiar to her. Their love for her mirrored the love that she experienced from her father, so she welcomed the hugs and spins. 

I was reminded of God’s love for me while watching them. The only reason I can recognize the love that others have for me is because it mirrors God’s. The other day my Christianity teacher asked me about Christmas plans after taking a final. I told him about some of the struggles I have and he gave me some encouragement. He said, “Well, I’m sorry about your struggles. I think you’re terrific. I’m not just saying that in the moment, but I thought that all along.” The encouragement was uplifting. I was reminded that sometimes God gives you love through others and I heard God’s words from his mouth. I was able to recognize God’s love mirrored in my teacher, just like Katelyn was able to recognize her dad’s love mirrored in David and Mac. 

The best part was not hearing from God, but the fact that the love expressed to me was free. Thanks Dr. Blair.

Remembering God

Today a resident had something that could be similar to a seizure. I’m not sure what it is and I don’t think her or her family knows either. Being in college has helped her find some triggers for her episodes though. Things like lack of iron, too much adrenaline and lack of sleep sets off her unresponsive seizure-like symptoms.

I was talking to one of my friends about faith, reason, and Kierkegaard (what a conversation!) when I noticed her eyelids fluttering. I could not shake or rub her out of it, so I decided to call the Resident Director. This is not something new for the resident or for the Resident Assistant’s, I knew the RD would help me with the best actions to take.

She started by calling out her name. Not yelling at her, but with firmness; a calling of her name that was meant to illicit a response. She was breathing, so we didn’t think it dire enough yet to call the paramedics. She then tried to get a response by physical means – rubbing and moving her. Her last attempt was to try to push on a pressure point behind her ear. When the RD did this her body relaxed, she let out a sigh and began “waking up” out of her episode.  The RD had to ask her questions to make sure her brain was fully functioning. She asked questions like, “Who am I?”, “What’s my name”, “Do you know who you are?”  At first these questions were too hard for her. Her retrieval from long-term memory was blocked. Slowly she was able to answer these questions, but it was a process. We had to wait as she progressively remembered her surroundings. This time, it was lack of sleep. She had only been getting a couple hours of sleep a night the past couple of days. After gaining her bearings, she picked up her stuff and went to bed. 

I wrote about this because I was reminded of some wounds that haven’t fully healed yesterday. I’ve been unsure of God today and where I fit in his plan because of them. As I watched the resident on the couch in the lobby, I saw myself in her place as the one who was unable to recognize important people. I saw myself in the midst of warfare and God as the one who had to hit some pressure points in order to wake me up. I know that whenever you’re unsure of God or his ability to work you’re supposed to remember. This means retelling the story of how you first came to Christ or other times God has worked miracles and strengthened your faith.  It reminded me the importance of remembering. Remembering who God is, who I am, who the people around me are is a crucial step in recovering from a traumatic experience physically, but also spiritually. I imagined God asking, "Who am I?" not because he had forgotten, but because I had forgotten. "Who are you?" the answer to this is not "victim" or "out of control" but "Princess, Daughter of the Most High who has a purpose."

The picture of my RD hovering over the resident like a knight waiting to take back from a thief what belonged to her will stay with me for a long time. It gave me comfort in imagining God hovering over me amidst the confusion with sword in his hand and a quest to take back his bride, what it rightfully His.

He is The Remedy

Today I learned a lesson in forgiveness. 

At dinner there was a friend who, I felt, didn’t show me value or love through the way they talked to me. Their words weren’t filled with concern for my day or even awkward acquaintance small talk, but with abrasive joking. I’m pretty sure I was made fun of a couple of times in front of my friends. I felt like I had just taken on an animal in a wrestling match for dignity. I walked away from dinner with a bruised and burning heart. I said to myself, “I won’t talk to them again. Maybe they don’t know how to communicate or maybe that’s the only way they know how to relate, but in any event we don’t have to be friends.”

I sat in my comfortable chair after that trying to get over the emotions that come with boundaries being crossed. I tried to find a story or two in an E-book to make myself feel better; one about winning others to Christ by love, another about forgiveness (hindsight: these were definitely hints from the Lord). As I came back from walking to the library I found that my phone was ringing. I had already missed 2 calls from the same person. It was a resident who was really upset and frantically trying to reach her RA. She proceeded to tell me about her roommate and how she doesn’t treat her with dignity (can anyone see where this is going?). Her roommate continually does things to communicate unworthiness and has a consistent lack of love towards her. She doesn’t treat her well with word or action. At first she sounded angry as she was raising her voice in the phone. As the conversation went on, I heard her voice quiver and I could tell that she was crying. She was angry, yes, but she was angry because she was hurt. As I sat listening to her, my heart broke and I grieved with her. All I wanted to do was listen and attend to her wounds. I wanted to hear about all the places that hurt and dress them. Secondly, I wanted to tell her to forgive because if she didn’t, I knew the wounds would hurt worse. 

While she was talking I realized that God gave me a glimpse of his perspective of wounds. He hears me; He urgently tends to my wounds, all of them; He wraps them; He tells me how to take care of them so they don’t get worse. He loves me truly and his heart breaks when mine does because he loves me. He cares for me just as much, and even more than the care I have for my residents. Situations take on a new light when seen through the eyes of God. I forgot that God is personal. He sees me in every moment. I’m ashamed to say that I forgot he was my Doctor, ready and willing to remedy my ailments. I've already forgiven my friend and have made plans to have a conversation about communicating - humbly.

Loving Preparations

I’m a Resident Assistant at Houston Baptist University. We started training around August 2nd this year. It was right after I got back from Sabine Creek. For about a good three weeks we had an agenda almost every day that related to preparing for our residents. It consisted of checking rooms/suites for damages, decorating, organizing closets, taking down old decorations, putting together important documents for their individual files, and programming. It was a rough three weeks to say the least.

I remember a point in training where I said to myself, “I’m tired of preparing. I’m tired of the anticipation, they just need to come already!” Around this time period I was getting exhausted. I asked God to show me that he loved me because I was expending all this energy towards people I hadn’t even met and wasn’t getting poured back into. I asked him to show me He loved me in a way he hadn’t before.

At the end of the 3rd week we were putting up decorations and organizing the kitchen. I remembered the increasing anticipation. I realized I loved my girls before I had even met them. We had done all this work for them in addition to praying for them. I felt like we really communicated love to them through all the preparation. We wanted it to be nice and comfortable for them when they got here just because we loved them. Preparation communicates love and value to me and we were declaring value to our girls in this way.

I remembered thinking these thoughts and realized there was a verse in the Bible about Jesus preparing a place for his disciples in heaven. In John 14, the first section reads:

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” [ESV John 14:1-4]

In that moment I realize that Jesus is preparing for me to come to Heaven. His preparation for me communicated love and value to me. It was an "I love you," from the lips of Christ. I understand that if I wasn't important to him, he wouldn't make any preparations for me. Every one of us waited with baited breath for our residents to come so we could enjoy them in a place we created for them. How much more is God waiting with anticipation for me to come enjoy a place that was created for me in heaven!

Being Made Clean

When a group leaves Sabine Creek Ranch the staff has to "deep clean" everything. We have to sweep, mop, vacuum, and wipe down everything in order to get things ready for the next camp to come along soon after. One of the tasks that the staff spends most of their time on is the cabins because there's so much to do. There's mattresses to wipe down, floors to sweep and mop/vacuum, bathrooms to disinfect, and supplies to restock. It takes a lot of people and a lot of time to make cabins ready for the next group to come in.

The worst part of cleaning cabins for me is the end. Someone in authority has to come in and make sure we did a good job. If we didn't, we would have to go back and redo some things. If we did do a good job, we could take the rest of the day off.

One particular cleaning day I was feeling really good about my cleaning group that I was in charge of. We did a really good job on a difficult cabin (Horton Lodges had waxed cement floors that acted as a magnet to dead grass). We had checks and balances in place to make sure we weren't going to be that group that had to reclean.

When the time came to have our cabin checked off I was really nervous. My friend, Lizzie, was checking our cabin off because she was known to have an eye for detail. She looked under the bunk beds, on top of every mattress, inside the toilets, and inspected every curious spot of the floor. It was intense. There were things that didn't measure up to the appropriate standard of cleanliness that I had to redo. There were parts of the floor that needed more sweeping, so Lizzie grabbed a broom and swept dead grass into my dustpan on occasion.

The whole process was nerve wracking for me. I didn't want her to think less of me because the quality of work wasn't what it should have been. I was really overwhelmed by the slew of emotions so I prayed. In that moment I realized that cleanliness is a demonstration of God's character in us. God is very much about being clean, being holy. Leviticus shows us that He can't be around sin or unclean things. In order for us to be with Him, we have to be clean as well. God reminded me that He has to clean my heart in order for Him to reside in it. Just as hard as Lizzie was working to make sure that the cabin was clean, God does the same within myself. He was giving me a clear picture of what it's like for God to come inside me and "clean house."

There were a couple of things I noticed about the way things worked. Lizzie didn't just show me what needed to be done and then command me to go do it. She communicated what wasn't ok, and then cleaned WITH me. God doesn't just tell me what isn't ok with my life and then leave me to deal with it. He doesn't tell me I'm dirty and then leave me to figure out how to clean up. He grabs a broom (if I'm willing to let Him clean that is), shows me what needs to be swept up, and sweeps it up while I hold the dustpan. Even though it's never God's mess to clean up, He always helps me clean up my messes.

Lizzie also didn't cut any corners. She didn't ignore things she thought should have been done better just for the sake of comfort or ease. Neither does God. He's really serious about holiness and won't cut corners in my life just because "it will hurt" or "it will take more effort than is comfortable." There's a standard of holiness that God has to keep and that's why He's serious about holiness in my life. He loves me and wants to be a part of it. He's serious about it because He wants to stick around.

I'm so grateful for conviction and repentance. Not only does it show that God wants me to be like Him and have a better life, but it also communicates love. He cares enough about me to show me the things that need to be cleaned so that He can reside in me as much as He can.

Leviticus 11:45, "I am the LORD, who brought you up out of Egypt to be your God; therefore be holy, because I am holy."

Belaying My Unforgiveness

Today I was assigned to ropes course for the camper's free time. I got to belay kids up a 40 foot rock wall so they could hurl themselves off of a zip line at the top. This is something along the lines of what I told the kids, "My name is Sonflower. I want you to know that we're partners in this. Whatever goal you make, whether it's getting to the top of the tower or just making it halfway, I'm committed to getting you there. I'm here to help you too. If you need help, just call my name and I'll tell you where to put your feet for the next step." Sometimes kids would call down to me and tell me that their arms hurt and I would say, "Hey, it's ok that they hurt because it won't last for forever. You can work through the pain," and it would be enough to get them going again.

There was one kid that I remember with fondness because of his journey up the tower. His name was Quay and was probably going into 6th grade. Quay had a really hard time going up the climbing wall. He would climb, quit, listen to encouragement, convince himself that he could do it, climb, quit, listen to encouragement, etc... He would say things like, "My feet hurt!", "My hands hurt!", "I can't do this!", "Can you just let me hang here for a while?" Needless to say it took him a while, but he made it. There couldn't have been anything to make me more proud of Quay. I didn't even know him, but because I saw him overcome his struggle I couldn't help but rejoice with him when he reached his goal.

I had to stop at one point because the encouragement God gave me to give to the kids reminded me of my spiritual journey. I wasn't feeling too good today. On my break I read my Bible and ask God, "Do you love me?" because I didn't feel like He did today. If anything, I felt as I was waiting until I could stop disappointing God before He could love me. I'm struggling with forgiveness and doing things God's way when it comes to reconciliation. It's not easy for anyone, but I know I still have to deal with it. I honestly just want to ignore everything, but it hasn't worked out so well. When you ignore it on the outside, it doesn't go away on the inside.

I felt like God reminded me that we're partners in life. I'm not alone when it comes to struggles. Just like Quay, He's not going to take me anywhere I don't want to go. He's not going to force me to be sanctified or do things His way. When I am on the path, He is going to encourage me and point to the next step when I get stuck. I tell God all the time that my arms hurt, my feet hurt, and that I'm tired. He's right there with me reminding me that it's ok because the pain won't last forever; that I can work through the pain when He gives me the strength. He's going to get me where I need to be if I'm willing to follow him...all the way up the 40 foot rock wall.

Jesus Washed My Feet

This morning I read in John 13 about Jesus washing his disciples feet. One thing I hadn't ever seen before while reading was in the first verse. It says, "Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love." What got me the most was the phrase, "he now showed them the full extent of his love." It was cool to see Jesus troubled that he was leaving and wanting to show his disciples love before he left. I realized that the only way I can serve others the way that Jesus did is to be served by God because service equals love. I need to be loved and cared for by my Father before I can love and care for my brothers and sisters (including the campers). I even wrote this in my Bible "How has God washed my feet today that would give me motivation to wash others feet?"

So I prayed for an attitude of service and grappled with how much I really wanted it, but after that I didn't think much about my devotional time. I went on with Team Building, Lunch Prep, Lunch, and Lunch Clean-up. After I left the camp store, Camo and I went to say hi to some campers that invited her to a Spa track time.

We went inside the cabin and I planned on redoing my nails, but a little girl led me outside so she could show me the foot soak. She showed me where to sit and put a bucket of water in front of me. It was then I realized she was about to wash my feet. I took off my shoes and she put perfumed salts in the bucket that was too small for my feet, but just the right size for God to show himself to me. After she went inside I lost it and cried. I couldn't stop thinking about how much the camp staff does for the campers to communicate love through service and how this girl showed me the full extent of her love by preparing something nice for my feet. The little girl "washed my feet." She served me. She just wanted them to smell good and be smooth, but in reality she was used to do so much more. God washed my feet today through a little girl we have been serving all week.

Letting go of the cup

Today I witnessed a very funny/very serious fall from a kid here at camp. His name is Cole and he's 9. He was playing hide-and-seek with two other kids who belonged to the camp coordinators here at Sabine Creek.

This is how it happened: He was holding a styrofoam cup and was looking for a place to hide in our staff hang out room. One of his feet didn't lift up high enough to clear his other foot, so he tripped. Yes, he tripped over his own feet. For some reason, he valued whatever was in his cup so much that he continued to grip it even though he was falling. Because he gripped his cup, only one hand was available to stop him from falling. That one hand wasn't enough, so he ate it. Cole landed right on his elbow and nothing else. I heard the thud when his 9-year-old elbow took the fall against the ground. I also noticed one of his crocs had flown across the room. I tried my hardest not to laugh because I thought he was seriously hurt. No worries, he was fine. Despite his initial groan, he assured me that he was ok. After checking him over he continued to find a hiding spot for his hid-and-seek game.

What got me the most was that if he had only let go of the cup, he would not have hurt his elbow. For whatever reason, the ice in his cup was more important even though it spilled out all over the tile when everything was said and done. I believe he might have even been holding the cup as he got up, but don't quote me on that.

I didn't write this story to relive a funny/not so funny moment with Cole. I wrote out this story because I looked at what happened with Cole and saw myself. I've been struggling with God about my single-hood lately. It seems to be a reoccurring theme in my prayer life and in these blogs. It's reality for me to see eligible guys and wonder why I'm not being pursued.

I was Cole and what I valued, a relationship, was the cup. I put it on a pedestal and keep it close to my heart because I think it's the only way I will feel cherished or treasured. I could imagine God whispering to me, "Why don't you just let go of the cup? Why don't you give it to me? If you would only let go of it, you wouldn't get hurt."

It was a reminder that God forever wants to be my husband, boyfriend or no boyfriend; fiance' or no fiance'; earthly husband or no earthly husband. He wants to fill those deep longings in my heart and deserves that place in my life. Whether or not I have someone to hold my hand, I'm always going to need God to hold my heart. It's definitely hard to let go because I really want what's inside the cup, but I'm not too sure I know how to take care of myself well if I don't.

South Padre, Texas: A Spring Break Mission Trip

I went to South Padre, Texas for Spring Break this year and wanted to write this blog as a thank you to all of you who prayed for me and helped to get there financially. I love telling stories and this post is my outlet for what I learned before and during the mission trip.

I was really attracted to Beach Reach in South Padre because I knew that if Jesus was in the flesh today, that’s where he would be during Spring Break. The World flocks to it as a place to relax, unwind and have fun before going back to school. In reality, it’s not very fun at all. Women go there to be taken advantage of and men go there to take advantage of women. There’s lots of booze, lots of drugs, and lots of choices that aren’t thought through. At the end of the week people are spent and have nothing left.

Before going I realized I had a prideful attitude towards that place. It’s not an ideal vacation spot for me. It’s the last place I would choose to go for Spring Break. “I would never go there because I’m a Christian. It’s a sinful place.” I would look at places like South Padre and Cancun and just shake my head, “Worldly People, just making a mess of things. They don’t know what they’re doing.” Everyone has those thoughts, but I found myself face-to-face with my pride when I wondered why I haven’t gone before, even as a mission trip. I separated myself, that’s why. I made a distinction between myself and people God loves dearly and passionately.

The night before I left I got scared. I thought about how I’ve grown up in church and haven’t gambled with sin the way the people I would meet have. I knew that people can pick up on when others aren’t being genuine and I wanted to be real. So I asked God to help. I prayed for some sort of bridge or even a leveler so I could be humbled and meet them where they are. I feel like God showed me my neediness. All my neediness. I get scared, angry, bitter, jealous, and worried just like everyone else who would be there. The only difference between myself and the people I would meet in South Padre is the fact that I have a generous God to be needy to. I have a God who loves giving gifts to his children; gifts that satisfy the deepest wells of want. That common ground is where I would meet people.

One of my first stories is about a guy who played soccer. Our group met up with him while passing out our hotline number. He said he played soccer and was going to be on TV next week. He showed us his really big biceps and also pulled up his shorts to show us his quads. Before he left he said goodbye to our group. This guy (being a little drunk) looked at my chest, remembered my name and tried to give me a hug. I lovingly shook his hand instead. When I told this story to the rest of our group, my friend Grace showed concern. I shook it off and said it was ok. I really wasn’t upset. I was offended, but I knew I was safe with the guys in my group. One guy named Seth responded and said, “No, it’s not ok.” It took me aback. He showed a brotherly love for me and was offended for me. It meant a lot to hear that from him as my friend. It reminded me that not all guys think the same and that he truly had a high view of women.

By the second day we were all exhausted. Our sleeping schedules were so crazy. We were going to sleep at around 4am and waking up at around lunchtime. It was nuts. So, it was really hard to keep up my time with the Lord. Not to mention I was around people all the time. We had to give people rides up and down the island, serve meals sometimes, hang out with the Beach Goers, etc…and there was hardly a time where I was by myself. Sometimes I would wake up before the other girls in my room to have my quiet time and other times I would do it when everyone was getting ready. It was so hard to be consistent. I remember there was one time I truly met with the Lord alone. It wasn’t but 15 minutes. I went into a hallway in the motel and my soul exhaled. This is significant because I thought I had relief and was experiencing God’s closeness, but it was really busyness. It made me realize that intentional time with God is important and really does give relief.

Something else I learned in South Padre is that people want God’s truth. There was a girl there that Grace and myself met that really brought it home for me. Her name was Lauren and she was kind of drunk at the time of our conversation. She told us that she was here with a guy who was going to take her out to dinner. She pulled out her crinkly three dollars and said she was waiting for him. She said he was still with his girlfriend but they had come to South Padre to have sex. After she told us this, she hesitantly asked, “Is that bad?” and braced herself for judgment. I told her that the only reason it would be bad is because it would hurt her. That she deserved someone who was going to be faithful to her and want only her. After hearing this she was surprised and her face lit up. She said, “Really?” but then quickly tried to cover it up and said “Well all he wants is sex, and that’s really all I want too.” But I could tell that it really wasn’t what she wanted and I said, “No, that’s not what you really want.” She shook her head and said “No, I don’t want that either. I want him to be my boyfriend.” So, that encounter taught me that people want God’s truth. Cases like Lauren’s make me believe that people want what God has to say about themselves but they just need people to affirm that in them. They need us to say things like “Yeah, you ARE special enough for a guy to be faithful to you, but it’s because God’s says you’re special.”

There was this one particular van ride where I met this girl that caused me to see how God felt about the Lost there. She said she had come down from college with a large group of guys and wasn‘t very happy (one of them was particularly old and had a handlebar mustache. ßNot relevant to the story but it’s funny). She stayed in the same room with them, they were gross, she’d wake up with sand on her and just wasn’t having a good time because she was the only girl. She said all this with a very matter of fact attitude, very nonchalant-like. It didn’t make sense because she seemed like a very smart girl and I wondered, “Why don’t you just leave? Why don’t you just hang out with others? You know all this stuff isn’t ok and it’s not fun for you, yet you still decide to be in this situation. Why?” It dumbfounded me that someone who knew the cause of their unhappiness and wouldn’t do anything about it. I went into our prayer room to pray for her and I started crying. The experience reminded me of the people in Isaiah who rejected God after he had done so many good things for them. He called them stubborn and stiff-necked. I saw God’s heart for those he considers his possessions but doesn’t have yet in Isaiah. That’s how he felt about the people I had encountered. He sees them as His Bride that’s left that he jealously pursues to get back. I felt God’s passionate, and jealous love for the people in South Padre.

The end of the week came sooner than expected and we were cleaning out the church we used for our hub. When we finished cleaning a guy came in with a painful earache. I can’t remember his name, but for the sake of the story let’s call him Manny. Let me tell you about Manny. He was at least 6 feet, Hispanic, and bulky. He was a bouncer that worked at club Chaos that had recently quit. He quit because God grabbed hold of his attention (he found 2 dead bodies in the club and wanted to get out before anything else happened). He was one of the toughest guys I’ve seen and this earache brought him down. The earache was really a busted eardrum from a speaker. As he laid on the floor, shaking and sweating from the pain it tore me up inside. Chaos was a really bad place and though he had worked at the club they wouldn’t pay him. God had brought him to that church to take care of him. Even though he had lost everything, God still loved him and wanted to help him clean up the mess that was made. We gave him medicine and a ride back to Houston where he could start over. It reminded me of when we get wrapped up in sin. You think you’re in control, but eventually you lose more than what you bargained for. When you get out because of God’s grace, He doesn’t just leave you. He doesn’t tell you, “Ok, now you’re free. Don’t do it again,” He helps you clean up the mess.

We had a baptism at the beach at the end of the week and I heard a guy ask, “Why are they doing this?” I thought “Oh, a wonderful opportunity to talk about the Gospel.” So I said, “Do you want me to explain it to you?” He said “No, I know what they’re doing. But why are they doing this here?” Indicating that it wasn’t the holiest place for a baptism. I said, “I guess to show that even in a place like this, God is still here.” Really, despite the labels that get attached to places like that, God still loved those people deeply.

Thanks to all the people who prayed for me and supported me. Thanks especially to my church Garden Oaks Baptist Church. You gave to me without asking anything in return. It showed so much value and love to me.

Here's a link for pictures! http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150130683851801.272726.566016800

What Do I Believe Is In the Hands of God?

Last Sunday I had nursery duty. I normally work with the toddlers, but that day there was a baby who was about 6 months old. Her daddy is Hispanic and her mom has gorgeous eyes. So she was passed down some very beautiful traits. She was wearing a cute pink dress that allowed her to crawl around in. She's the focus of entry today.

She was sitting near a wooden puzzle. Her aim obviously wasn't to try to put the puzzle pieces together, like mine was, but to create a sort of chaos with them. She would grab the pieces, shake them in her little fist, and then throw them on the ground in front of her. Like I said before, my aim was to try to put the puzzle together, but it was hard when she would grab the pieces out of my hand while I put them where they belonged in the puzzle. So, I gave up and just watched her. I gave her pieces to shake and throw. Sometimes she would try to drop them on top of pieces already on the ground to make a "clack" sound. I soon realized that she would grab any and every piece that I gave to her. She wanted anything that was in my hand. She knew what was in my hand was good and reached for it every time.

In that moment I felt like the Lord tapped on my shoulder and said, "Remember when you questioned my motives in giving you good gifts this summer?" Oh man, I did. I had forgotten about how I felt abandoned by God because I couldn't see plans from him that were good for my summer. I had prayed through it since that point and felt resolved, but God wanted to bring it up. So I remembered Matthew 7:9-11 that says "Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" The version in Luke says "scorpion" instead of "snake." I imagined handing the little girl a scorpion because it was small and could fit in my hand. I imagined her grabbing it, the scorpion stinging her, her face turning sour, dropping the scorpion, then looking at me with a sense of betrayal and tears in her eyes.

Oh it was too much to imagine this beautiful little girl crying and looking at me as the source of her pain and lack of trust. Then I realized that's exactly how I viewed God when I didn't make the REC team for the summer and was without plans. Because I didn't see the good I wanted to see in His hand I thought he was going to give me a scorpion. Not only that, I thought I was going to have to pretend to be ok with the scorpion. Because of the fact that it hurt to think of giving this little girl (that I hardly knew) something that would harm her, I knew that God would never give me bad gifts. He is so much more familiar with me than I am with that little girl, so I thought "How much more would it pain him to see me receive bad gifts if it was even possible for Him to do so?"

This Friday my mom texted me to let me know I received a letter of commitment from a summer camp that wants to hire me as their staff. Considering the perspective that God has shown me about giving gifts, I'm in awe of what He's given me and remorseful of how I viewed Him and his good and holy nature before. He really came through for me and the thing is that He planned this for me all along.

Rocks vs. Bread

Yesterday I was trying to do some New Testament Theology homework. The assignment was to read the whole book of Acts. This isn't a big deal if you split up all 28 chapters, but to read it in one sitting is a bit time consuming. I was tired and had already done a mountain of homework. To prevent from falling asleep I wanted to listen to an audio of the book online while I read it. I thought it was genius.

A problem came when I tried to connect to the school's wi-fi. The symbol at the bottom of my screen kept telling me that the internet was connected, but the site kept telling that "this page cannot be displayed." So I sat for 10 minutes trying to disconnect and reconnect in hopes that maybe one of those times would work (reminds me of the definition of insanity).

Some time after this I got really mad. Among other things I wanted to do, I first and foremost wanted to pick up my laptop above my head and then thrust it downward to the floor, watching it shatter into pieces. The wi-fi here is kind of glitchy sometimes, so this happens a lot. I said to myself, "Why isn't this working? I should have what I want. God, why is this happening? You control everything, including technology. Why are you putting me through this frustration? Isn't this a good idea? Isn't this good?"

Because I really prayed, I really got an answer. I thought about the frustration I was having and the alternative. The alternative would be to just read all 28 chapters by myself to get it done. It would be boring and I would have to fight to stay awake, but I would get it done. Thinking more I realized that listening to someone would take longer than reading it myself too. I don't know why God didn't allow me to get online at the time, but this is what was better. When the wi-fi came back on I went straight to biblegateway.com/audio to get down to business. Sadly, I came to the conclusion that I was right. The reader, being very talented, spoke in an english accent, talked slower than I wanted him to and placed dramatic emphasis where necessary. I listened to half of chapter 2 and turned it off to read it by myself.

Then it hit me. I have the same attitude about dating. I'm frustrated at the stage I'm in. There is a guy that is interested in me, but isn't making any defining pursuits. I know, essentially, that it's not about waiting on him, but about waiting on God to deliver. I get so upset because I want things to move faster than they are. I tell God, "Why can't I have what I want? It makes sense that I have this! Why are you putting me through this frustration? Isn't this good? Wouldn't this edifying relationship with this amazing, Godly guy be good?" I realized that God sometimes doesn't withhold just the bad from us to protect us. He even withholds the "good." Not to be a tyrant, but so He can give us what is better.

I thought I knew what was best for myself yesterday in relation to homework, but God knew I could handle reading it by myself and that it would be faster for me. It wasn't that listening to the audio version was bad, but there was something better. I was encouraged yesterday when I realized that God knew I could handle the situation I was in with Mr. Right. That He knows what's better for me right now and won't give me anything less. "Better" for me might mean refinement through the situation or learning how to be friends despite feelings.

Luke 11:11-13 “Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

I Believe in Allen and God Believes In Me

Allen is a second grader at an elementary school I visit to tutor on Mondays. He's not normally my kid to tutor, but today his didn't come. So, I volunteered to take him into my group.

Allen is a pretty rambunctious kid. You can't get him to do his homework if it's a nice day outside because he'd pick running around over math. Today, I decided he was going to at least do half of his load of homework. We picked math. He didn't want to do it at first. He kept telling me, "But I'm scared it's going to be hard," and "But there's so many, let's just do two rows." So I told him,"Well, I believe that you have the ability to do this. I believe that you are a great mathematician and that you can do all of these math problems. So, we're going to do this because I believe in you and you can't make me believe otherwise." We took it one problem at a time and soon enough he was gaining confidence in his ability to add. He stopped guessing the answers and figuring them out on his own. Eventually, we got down to the last problem and I got to see his excitement for finishing all 5 rows of addition problems. I picked up the page and told him, "Look you finished all of these. I want you to look at what you believe about yourself and remember that just because it looks hard, it doesn't mean that you can't do it. You just have to put more of an effort."

When I reflected on this I realized that God does this for me all the time. Right now I'm definitely struggling with something that I haven't been able to conquer for a long time. He's teaching me how to be honest with Him about what's going on and ask boldly for things in prayer. It's very hard. I want to tell God just like Allen, "But it looks like it's going to be hard. I don't want to do this," and I bet God would tell me "Angel, you have all you need to get through this. I believe in you because you've conquered things with my help before. Now, we're going to get through this because you can't make me believe otherwise. Just because it's hard doesn't mean you can't do it."

So, now I'm encouraged. I know that my Teacher is going to patiently sit with me through each problem until it's finished. I know that He'll encourage me and teach me how to endure. He'll gently correct me and give me high fives when I, by His grace, do something right. I'm not alone and I can stop beating myself up about coming to God with the same thing night after night because He's sitting with me and teaching me.

Thanks, God, for believing in me. Thanks Allen for teaching me more about God.