Above the Surface.

August 3, 2008

Sinking is not a pleasant feeling. Whether physically or figuratively. Waves crashing over and the cold rain hitting our face in the midst of a desperate struggle to survive can completely destroy our morale--Keeping sight of the sun...or simply just the sky above. But I don't think swimming with all of our might is the answer to our reoccurring problem. 

Being the very definition of an extremely analytical person, I struggle to keep my thoughts from drowning out what I KNOW to be the truth. You'd think once someone knew the Truth they'd be set. Wrong. Very wrong. I seem to think I can figure everything out. The harder I think, the more I'll discover with this very feeble mind of mine. Wrong again. The way someone says or does something is a direct reflection of how they are feeling about me. Once again, wrong. Since when was everything about me anyway? I failed to receive that memo.

2 Corinthians 10:3-5 states,

"For though we live in the world, we do not wage war like the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have the power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

Sometimes I think everything will just fade away...just like that. Things that I have built up for so long. Things that I have battled for with blood, sweat, and tears. People that make me feel alive. People that I so dearly love. People that I would be miserable without. So I swim and fight with all within me only to drown.

But am I holding on to tightly to things that can't fight the growing waves any better than I can? See, I don't think drowning is about not being able to swim. We are human. That is inevitable. I think drowning is about losing sight of the Truth. Truth being the irreplaceable love and grace of my Savior Jesus Christ.

Peter had faith to walk on water when Jesus called him. And he did for a short moment until...he lost sight of his Savior. He became too focused on the waves, wind, and storm that so easily overwhelm our lives. But how can we walk when we have our eyes set on nothing? We will eventually sink because our focus is on the crashing waves, not the sun.

I am writing this for people like me. People who think WAY too much. People who allow their minds to flood the Truth they know so well. People who think everything needs to be explained away before it can really be true. People who strive to let go but cannot. Yes, I am someone who fits all of those presumptions.

So quit sinking. Make the decision to fight through the storm...but not on your own. Swimming against the storm of this world is easier said than done. Jesus, save us all.

Keep me above the surface.

STUCK.

I often feel this way. I'm an active person. I like to be "on the go." To be productive. Even my "days off," are really not so. It can be a blessing... it can be a curse. This very blog post is a result of my inability to stop my "turning wheels" last night (as I was in bed). I'm even "running" when I'm lying down! So of course, I grabbed my iPhone and typed it all as it came racing through my mind.

I think one reason for my chronic busyness, or longing to be so, is my fear of staying in any one place for great durations of time. After all, if in one place for too long, you may just get...

Stuck.

This is one of my greatest and deepest fears.

But one of my dearest friends so often wisely states, "Fear is 'False Evidence Appearing Real.'" It's as if I think that every place in which I stand for too long will turn to quick sand. A nearly inescapable trap of sorts.

But maybe being "stuck" isn't all that bad. And here's why:

What if the moments in which we feel "stuck," are the very moments in which we are actually moving... and growing, the most?

Times of standstill cause us to reevaluate and reexamine our priorities. Our outlooks on true growth. And most importantly, our perspectives on true movement. If you're like me, in this period of immobilization you find yourself feeling as though you have been placed in "time out."

After 22 years of being the recipient of numerous "2x4s" to the face, I'm finally realizing that the most important movement is my movement towards Christ. And sometimes, I'm finding, that movement requires a halt.

A big halt.

Ironic, isn't it?

Because how in the world can our focus move upward when we are so focused on moving forward? I am not all-powerful nor am I all-present. Although my God can be everywhere at every single second, I most definitely cannot be. So if I'm running a million miles a minute trying to plan the next 10 years of my life, more than likely, I am not giving my utmost focus to the Ultimate Planner.

And that's where the brick wall comes into play. See, no man has the ability to see the entire scope, or landscape, of his or her life. Oh, how I so wish that were so. (For the record, if I could have any superhero power, that would be mine.) Then, I wouldn't have to make a t-shirt that says, "Don't ask. I have no idea what I'm doing after I graduate college... in 33 days."

It's been 2 years since my "big halt." Trust me, it's felt much longer than that at times. Feeling "behind" in multiple areas of my life has been the theme for me, for quite some time. But maybe all it takes is a shift in my perspective...

From stuck, to transition.

A transition of heart. A transition of focus. A transition of mindset.

You see, slowing down allows the chaos to unwind. It gives our feeble minds a chance to begin to see the next step. Because as we focus on growing towards Christ rather than moving towards our next plan, our hearts beat with His as He directs each and every step.

It is much easier to journey with someone Who sees the entire horizon... and beyond.

So be encouraged, friends. When you're "stuck," it is simply a season...

Because there is indeed a light at the end of every tunnel... however long it may be.

WHERE THE RUBBER MEETS THE ROAD.

I love those friendships in which you can’t help but talk for hours. A few weeks ago, I walked into the house of some dear friends; the home of what has become my “Second Family.” It was late, and I had to work the next morning. I knew that my “ten minute” stay was destined to become much longer. So I made a mental note of my early morning coffee route and walked in.

The funny thing is that while talking, we realized we haven’t even known each other for a year. It feels much longer--the good kind of long. The time has flown by. This past year has been a rollercoaster of many sorts, full of blessings yet many struggles. I think we all reach the point of wondering when the rollercoaster will end. Don’t get me wrong, I love rollercoasters. However, when it comes to my life, I’d rather have a straight shot. After all, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Ok, enough of the math lesson.

Back to rollercoasters. We all need some perspective. Especially when the rollercoaster keeps going and going and going and going... And well, I think you catch my drift. I think this is why Proverbs says, “Listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom in the future” (Proverbs 19:20, ESV). We all walk the rocky terrain of this life... Some are just further along. 

At one point during our conversation, the topic of struggle surfaced. That’s another thing I cherish about that friendship--it has never been anything but genuine. I think it’s because we both are good at “reading” people... So we knew from the start that there is no point of playing games. It was then that she said, “...These are the moments when the rubber meets the road...” I will never forget that. In fact, that conversation hasn’t left my mind since. 

I’m not sure that I’ve seen a friend, or entire family for that matter, walk a road of struggle with such grace. Their shoes are weathered yet they stand strong. Sure, they’ve asked why. Don’t we all? I think we all have moments when we realize we are standing on a path we didn’t plan. I know I have. But both the rubber soles of our shoes and the rugged road of our journeys play a part in this life.  

I’ve asked myself many times why my road has to be so rocky and uneven. It’s taken me a few years but I’ve come to this realization: The rugged road exists to remind us that this road isn’t the end... It is simply a means to the end. The glorious end. Isn’t that why roads are created? To lead us somewhere? 

Have you ever tried to climb or walk a gravel road while wearing shoes with no traction? It’s a miserable experience. For those of you like me, I just fear wiping out. I’m not the most graceful of individuals. That’s where the rubber comes in. The soles of shoes are purposed to keep one firmly founded... Like climbing shoes or hiking boots. 

So what happens where the two meet? I think at least two things occur. I believe the road strengthens the journeyman. There is a reason why avid hikers and daring climbers have muscles in more places than one can count. It is an outward reflection of where they’ve been. Roads they’ve weathered. Secondly, the rubber keeps us “grounded” ...for lack of a better term. This is why proper foot wear is of utmost importance. 

How pertinent this is to our faith in Jesus! I’ve heard it said, “In suffering, God is not getting back at you; He is getting you back to Himself.” After these past few years, I cannot express enough the truth this statement holds. If one is not firmly planted by the foundation of God’s Word, he will quickly lose his footing. It is inevitable. The terrain of this life is no joke. It is not to be taken lightly. However, if prepared, it is navigitable. It’s easy to slip up. I know I do quite often. So maybe it’s time for some new shoes. 

Well sure enough, 3 hours later, I headed home to catch some sleep. I was exhausted the next day, but that coffee was a lifesaver and it was totally worth it. I am so thankful for a dear friend who may be further down this road but nevertheless continues to show me what it looks like to stand firmly...

“Where the rubber meets the road.”

“Your faith will not fail while God sustains it; you are not strong enough to fall away while God is resolved to hold you.” --J.I. Packer

Faithfulness.

I grew up hearing this word but I think it's safe to say that I never truly knew the meaning. Don't misunderstand me, faithfulness was very much present in my life... but life hadn't thrown much at me yet and because of this, my awareness of my need for faithfulness was inexistent.

With that said, one cannot go throughout this life without eventually experiencing a downpour. A storm. A desert season. I was 19 when I entered my storm. A storm that has lasted 3 years.

Storms will wake you up real quick. Your [false] sense of security crumbles in the rumble of the approaching thunder and the lightning reveals your need to hold fast to something... anything.

Although I do not fully understand why God allows us to walk through trials, I have found that His very essence, the Faithful One, is revealed in those deep, dark, desperate moments... when we suddenly realize that our feeble attempts for survival are no match for the dreadful storms of life. We once thought we were set, ready to trudge through the terrain without need for a map, safety kit, or much less... a savior. But all the while, our journey was held in the palm of Almighty's hand.

We are so blindly clueless.

Trials are not pleasant. I have yet to meet someone who enjoys them. Often, the tendency is to exclaim that God has left, walked out, or left us to die in the storm. But this is not the case and never has been.

By God's grace, I have been able to begin to see life through a new perspective. You see, when it has rained for so long, you have to find a way to see clearly, amidst the rainfall. My desire to even search for a new viewpoint is proof of His faithfulness. That surely isn't of my own accord.

Dread pushes us towards a savior... a real Savior.

This is the richest form of faithfulness that exists on this planet. This is why James so boldly proclaims that we can rejoice in our trials...


Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. [James 1:2-4] 


In His faithfulness, God allows us to experience the pain of the rain so that we may learn to seek true Joy... a shelter, in God Himself. But that's not all. He knows that we are rough around the edges [to put it lightly] and our hearts need healing, in more ways than one. Trials come not only to point us to our desperate need for Him but also to purify us... thus leading to further joy.

It's a crazy mystery but as Isaiah 55 says... His ways are higher than mine and His thoughts are not my thoughts, so I'm okay with the mysteriousness of it all. I couldn't figure it out, even if I tried.

And to be honest, I wouldn't know His faithfulness like I do now without that 3 year storm. Would I do it over again? I'm not sure. But I sure am thankful for it.

Anchor Me Down.

I've never been a strong swimmer. Sure, I know how to swim. I can stay afloat and swim laps with average skill. Am I cut out to be an olympic swimmer? Absolutely not.

One doesn't have to live very long to recognize that this life has its way of sweeping him away. Overflowing. Overwhelming. All-consuming waters. Flooding his life and making the very task of "keeping his head above water" ...almost impossible.

Sound familiar? Speaking for myself, I know that feeling quite well.

For those who know me well, you know that I am a big fan of anchors. Some may think it is a bit odd but I have my reasons. It was when I discovered Hebrews 6:19-20 that I began to make anchors my "trademark" so to speak.

If there is one recurrent theme of my life the past few years, it's this... I'm desperately in need of a Savior. Somehow, I always manage to lose sight of my Ultimate Security. Waves of sorrow, change, pain, uncertainty, and dreams that seem forever lost blur my vision and drain my energy. Like I said, I am not a master of this whole swimming thing.

Sometimes we must feel like we are drowning in order to wake up to the reality that it is God's love that has anchored us down. What I often forget is that not a day passes that I am not steadfastly held by Jesus. This, friends, is true Hope. Hebrews 6:19-20 states, "We have this [hope] as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek." 

Did you catch that? Jesus has gone before us. Not only does He firmly plant us by His overwhelming love in the midst of the storm, but He also has conquered the flood. The flood of despair, doubt, dread, and desperation.

I guess the waves have to come before we are able to see that we cannot save ourselves. Not even the best of swimmers could outlast these waters.

I try and try to be a marathon swimmer, while all the while... my security is right there next to me in the stormy waters. We all need a Savior. We all need Security. We all need Steadfastness. Why don't we grab hold of it... that Anchor that is firmly founded and withstands any storm life can throw our way? This world seems to throw out many promises of safety--good health, great wealth, and reliable relationships... faulty anchors so to speak. But it doesn't take long to see that you've drifted back out to sea... with no lifeline. You see, these safety nets only last so long. They merely offer the false hope of security... but are swept away just the same. You might as well have continued to tread water.

I've had my share of losses these past few years. But as much as I wish it would have turned out differently, I have never seen Jesus so clearly. All my safety nets, buoys, and lifeboats have disappeared at sea. And let me tell you, nothing weakens stamina like depending on false securities... only to lose them. Sure, I've probably upped my swimming ability... but that doesn't cut it anymore.

I've been broken to be healed. I've been emptied to be filled. I've been lost to be found. I've been lonely to be truly and solely His.

I've been caught in a dreadful storm... to be saved.

Praise Jesus that He anchors me down.

Immanuel.

Waiting. Definitely not one of my strong suits. Whoever said “patience is a virtue” was on to something. Besides being fallen human beings, what is it about being “in the waiting” that seems to make life almost unbearable? And depending on the immensity of the situation at hand, “tunnel vision” can become the greatest side effect of a life chased down by this virtue.

The irony of all this is the fact that despite the hidden treasures this virtue holds, very few if none desire to take the journey towards discovery. With every answer and convenience at our fingertips, we could say that we’ve exponentially advanced over the past century, even over the past decade. However, along this technological venture, we have lost the ability to wait and truly anticipate. Here’s the secret. This virtue called patience is not a destination but rather emerges throughout the journey called life.

Everyone is waiting for something. In Kindergarten, I couldn’t wait to be out of the “nap time days” (now I celebrate if I get a nap!) and by 6^th grade, I never thought I’d see graduation day. Freshman year of college, I quickly discovered that it wasn’t quite everything it had been cracked up to be. I had never felt so over my head. I was sure I would never survive those 4 years but now here I sit with one semester left and graduation less than a year away. And yes, I am now at that “quarter-life crisis” where I am left to decide what I am going to do with the rest of my life… not to mention I am counting the days until I can move out of my parent’s basement.

It isn’t until one has to wait for something he greatly or even desperately longs for that he begins to unearth little truths as he walks along Waiting’s path. Most good things in life must be fought for…actually, I would even dare to say that nothing of value is free. But maybe there is a reason for that. These things the heart longs for should require sacrifice, struggle, and journey. Why you ask? Because pure and honorable things should be upheld with the highest esteem and gratitude…both of which are truly obtained in the valleys and rocky roads of life. Sometimes, though, those good things we once had are taken from us and we know how much value they hold…and honestly, those are the hardest journeys of all.

It’s hard to believe that it was three years ago that my health started to decline. Looking back on it, it feels both immediate and gradual. When you’re young, you feel invincible, as if nothing and no one can bring you down…or that with a little time, the body will be at its best again. A little time. In the grand scheme of life, I recognize that a few years is insignificant. But at 21 years old, 3 years of living in a body that continues to struggle and fight itself day after day…seems like an eternity. Can you guess what I am waiting for? I have never wanted anything else more in my life than to be healthy again. That’s just the honest truth.

With that said, I completely understand that it could be much worse and I praise God for all the things I do have. Although I still fight this battle, I have come so far on this journey. I still have a long way to go but I have a priceless gift that has taken time to receive: The ability to look back on those 3 years and see the overwhelming goodness and faithfulness of my God. Not a chance did I walk (and stumble) alone.

The past few weeks have been, well, not exactly a walk in the park. I seem to go around and around with the Lord regarding this season of life I am in. I just want to see the end—to have it in sight—so that I have something to push towards. I thought by now God would extend mercy and heal me. But that’s what hit me today…I feel as though I was hit by a truck. Maybe, just maybe, my view of mercy has been skewed. 

I love this time of year. I mean, who doesn’t love Christmas? I love the family time and giving spirits that seem to illuminate the dark skies. But most of all, I love that I get to remember the coming of my Savior. After years and years and years (much more than 3) of waiting and great anticipation, the promised Redeemer came to earth to be with us. “He loved us so much that He came to be with us.” I don’t know how many times I have heard that but it hit me in a new way today. In the moments of weakness, fatigue, pain, tears, loneliness, and defeat I have the hope that the God of the universe came and felt all of those things before I was even born. 

How quickly and how often do I forget that? I drive myself nuts. That’s no secret to my God. And that’s where His mercy comes in. Because He loves me, He wants me solely for Himself and His glory. Those who know me well, know that I am quite thick-headed and stubborn. I realized today that maybe God’s mercy doesn’t look like deliverance for me right now. Instead maybe it appears as His presence in the midst of my continued journey…that I might remain near to Him. He knows that my heart desires physical strength and full recovery but what I really need is to be reminded of His dwelling in and with me. Did God bring this upon me? I do not believe that for a moment. What I do believe is that out of His love for me, He is working all things for my good and for His glory. And right now, my good and His glory looks like this…

That I would wake up every morning with a physical reminder that Immanuel (“God with us”) must and will always come through for me. 

If that isn’t the best Christmas gift, I don’t know what is.

Remembering [Rightly].

As I am approaching almost three years of a trying, yet True journey in the battle for my health, I have been reflecting on what I wrote almost a year ago in one of my darkest moments. There is nothing more encouraging than looking back in times of drought and storm and seeing how the Lord has continually walked with us and has brought us to a new dawn.

Shatter.

“Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst…” 1 Timothy 1:15

I hate how difficult it is to hide a mess. Sure, you can shove the mess into a closet or under your bed… but I’ve found that only makes matters worse. The filth and mess becomes stagnant. Unchanged. Apathy begins to set up camp in the heart and mind. Wasn’t it better when the mess was visible? Sure, it doesn’t look very pretty…but at least you recognize you are in desperate need of an intervention… that something has to be done to clean or at least, begin to reduce the mess.

“Beauty in brokenness.” That is the ultimate paradox in my opinion. One that I never understood… but these past 2 years have been a beacon, shining light upon the darkness and uncertainty of the concept.

You may be thinking… “But I’m such a broken, dirty, messy individual… I hold no capability to reflect beauty.” Join the club. If nothing else, this past year I’ve been continually and brutally bombarded with the harsh realization that my once-perceived “all-together” façade has been shattered into a million pieces.

Something I have begun to realize about the state of brokenness is that it clears the dirt and grime that is holding the lies, hurt, struggle, pain, and charade all-together. But as you begin to recognize your own inability to hold it together any longer… all you can do… is eventually drop it, and it shatters. For everyone to see.

Recently, I made a mosaic coaster with my cousin. We were in a bit of a crafty phase this past summer-- and what better way to get your hands dirty than to mix a little plaster and broken pieces of tile… carefully beginning to form it into a mosaic masterpiece? So we began thoughtfully crafting each small, individually-shaped piece into a design. When we were satisfied with the design, we mixed the plaster and spread it amidst the pieces…sure, the pieces were pretty and unique, but were of no use... or so it seemed. Only now were our coasters able to be used—they now had purpose… a purpose that could not be accomplished unless the pieces had been broken and gently placed back together.

It is not until something has been shattered that its innate fabric is truly seen. The moments that reveal the heart of a man are those that “shatter” him. Those dark, hopeless nights that scourge the spirit and break the heart. It is then and truly then, that our brokenness loudly proclaims its presence in our lives—the pain, shame, guilt, and bitterness can no longer be denied.

Shattering screams surrender… whether we realize it or not.

It is what we do with the pieces that will “make or break” us.

I know my initial instinct is to dispose of the broken pieces when something shatters. After all, who wants to deal with that mess? One could be injured by these broken pieces—harmed or burdened by the dreadful brokenness that lies helplessly all over the floor.

But you know what I’ve come to realize? Some of the most beautiful, breath-taking works of art have been crafted by things that first had to be broken. Maybe the original purpose for those broken pieces was not to be shattered… but for whatever reason, they had been.

Life, whether you have experienced it yet or not, has a way of shattering an individual. It is inevitable because we live in a fallen world. The first moment you shatter, you know it. You feel it in the deepest part of your being. It is no secret. And honestly, it’s not pretty or pleasant. You’re left in shock, not completely able to understand what has just occurred. It’s painful to have your fiber (whatever it may be), the very essence of who you claim to be and desire to portray, demolished. What do you have left?

A ghastly pile of shame, embarrassment, guilt, and fear... scattered all around.

At least, that’s what I used to see.

College has been a time of refinement, renewal, and refreshment for me. A season that my God has been redefining my view of brokenness. Because life happens and eventually, you must do something with the pieces… whatever that might be.

For so long, I was the one who shoved the mess under the bed. I’m all about efficiency after all. That option seemed the most logical, and well, Logical  my middle name. That was until I realized only so much fits under the bed. There comes a time when the mess explodes… I was in desperate need of a new “clean-up” plan.

It was then that I discovered that my God—the One who fashioned me together—wanted to restore me. To redeem my broken spirit. To use these seemingly ugly pieces in the creation of something new. Of someone new. These pieces had a purpose. In fact, they were finally in the proper and necessary form to be used for a greater glory.

“He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners…” Isaiah 61:1

My God is not only my Creator but my Restorer. He makes ALL things NEW. He is the ultimate Craftsman, taking our brokenness and carefully placing the pieces back together. However, we do not appear the same when He is finished. Never.

Rather, we begin to look more like our Father. For where our own desires, ambitions, pride, shame, and guilt were, there the presence and restoration of our God resides.

“The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly…” 1Timothy 1:14

My broken pieces were (and are) now held together with the “plaster” of the overwhelming grace of my Father. Yes, it was more than evident that I had shattered... there was no hiding that. And it wouldn’t be the last time. But it was then that I recognized that this was the state of being I had needed to be in for quite some time. Broken, shattered, destroyed… before my God.

Brokenness drives us to the foot of the Cross. What other option is there? We are left with a mess, an emptiness, and an unavoidable wrenching desire to be whole once again. It is when we shatter that God fills us with Himself. He gently seeps into our deepest cracks, restoring our wounds, and binding up our brokenness. Our closeness to God—our new and fresh communion with Him gives purpose to those jagged pieces. They now glimmer with a new shade of hope… for they are no longer useless.

In fact, they never were.

They were simply in the wrong hands.

Life breaks and falls apart… but we know these are places where grace is soon to be so amazing. They may be unfulfilled, they may be unrestored. But. When anything that’s shattered is laid before the Lord… Just watch and see. They will not be unredeemed. –Selah