"I finish God's sentences. A lot."

Having patience is hard.


It's the little things that creep under my skin. Like when the Internet is super slow and I squirm as I watch the blue loading bar slowly creep its way across the URL. Or when my mom spends 30 extra minutes every Sunday after church saying "goodbye" to all her friends [while I sit baking in the car in the parking lot because I thought we were leaving 30 minutes ago]. Or when I freak out because my dog has to spend 3 entire minutes sniffing every inch of our yard in the morning [5:45! EVERYDAY.] before she can decide on a grass patch worthy of her urine. Or maybe how I eat at least 3 lukewarm meals a week because I would rather choke my way through a cold-centered hamburger than wait for 150 extra seconds to go by on the microwave.


I've even been known to manually pop the toast in the toaster before it's "done."


Maybe you can relate to that. And as funny and harmless as some of those things are, I see that impatience creep into my spiritual walk ALL.THE.TIME. I don't know if I've ever continually prayed for something for longer than a week. Don't get me wrong--if I say I'm praying about it, I am--but really it just boils down to: It's a "yes" if I don't have a sinking feeling in my gut about it by tomorrow night. Maybe 2 nights from now if I'm feeling uber-disciplined. 


What's worse? 


I have a habit of finishing God's sentences. 


I'll start to sense the Lord stirring something new in my life, and I'll immediately begin arranging the circumstances of my life to support what I'm assuming God is going to do next. And then when I assume wrongly, not only have I wasted my time pursuing something God wasn't leading me to in the first place, but I spend at least a week berating myself for having screwed up...again.


So damn over eager.


Cases in point? Oh, where do I begin. I'm only going to list two examples...any more and it would be too convicting.


Roll back to last August when my summer job ended. I had a college degree but no more direction than I felt when I graduated high school. When I felt God calling me unto Himself, I decided being "closer to Him" meant applying to an obscure Bible School in North Carolina. I did the 10 page application, figured out how I would move my stuff over there, had a phone interview, and then couldn't get a loan to save my life.


As life would have it, God was calling me to my parent's basement in Mitchell for awhile. Not North Carolina.


Or how about in January when I was getting ready to return to the US after two months in the Dominican Republic? In my prayer time I was asking God for my next steps. The conversation sounded something like this...:


Me: "God what am I going to do when I get back home?"
God: "Well, next I want you t------"
Me: "To-sell-all-my-stuff-and-ask-people-for-money-so-I-can-fly-back-to-the-Dominican-Republic-and-live-here-the-rest-of-my-life-as-a-missionary! What a great idea. I'm so glad we had this talk."
God: "......"




EHHHHHH, wrong.




Yep. This sentence-finishing-thing seems to be a trend. Guessing and planning and arranging. Starting and stopping. Explaining and deciphering. Anticipating and worrying. For a girl who struggles with the toaster, I find my patience in spiritual matters is tested often. Thing is, it's tiring to fill-in-the-blanks.


The last three weeks I've been feeling the Lord starting something new again in me. And for the first time, I'm sitting back and enjoying the ride. Because [I'm learning] if I walk through today constantly straining to get a glimpse of what's coming over the horizon, I forget that He's holding my hand right now. And if I'd just hang onto that hand through enough "todays", eventually [together] we'll reach a place with a better view. 




^{Proverbs 3: 
"5} Trust in the LORD with all your heart
   and lean not on your own understanding;
⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
   and he will make your paths straight.^"








Are you trying to finish some of God's sentences? How's that working for you?

"I can't explain the Gospel better than this. So I'm not going to try."

A GREAT VIDEO ON THE G.O.S.P.E.L.

"I still get nervous explaining the Gospel."

I like to make my blog posts as interesting as the next girl, but the last few weeks I've really felt convicted to write a very plain, straight forward message. The Gospel. No frills, no funny stories, no deep metaphors [for the most part]. Just the Gospel. Who God is. Who Jesus is. Who we are. And how we fit together.


Because how SAD would it be if someone stumbled upon my blog, read all my posts about God and what I feel He's doing in my life, but never really heard the truth?


Very sad. So here it is:


G : God created us to be with Him.
O : Our sin separates us from God.
S : Sins cannot be removed by good deeds.
P : Paying the price for sin, Jesus died and rose again.
E : Everyone who believes in Him ALONE has eternal life.
L : Life with Him starts now and lasts forever.


That's the saving power of Jesus Christ. 


God is not church. He's not religion classes. He's not rules or summer camp or a self-help book. He's not interested in tallying up your good deeds, church attendance, Hail Mary's, or how much you give up for Lent. He doesn't desire perfection or sacrifice.


God is love.


He is love we can't imagine. Love we don't deserve. Love we can never earn. Love that is too good to be true [and frankly freaks me out, sometimes if I really think about it]. 


His love does not demand that we clean up our lives before we come to Him. I believe God delights in piecing back together the messes we surrender over to His capable hands. He takes the filthy rags we've been wearing and gives us dazzling, white robes instead. He can bring beauty from any tragedy. He extends his mercy, grace, and healing to everyone on this earth.


He desires relationship with us. He desires that we accept the overwhelming gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. When we do that, He grants us his HOLY SPIRIT to live within us. The fullness of God in our frail little bodies. He knows--once we get an authentic taste of His divine love--we will spend the rest of our lives attempting to glorify and draw closer to Him.


A faith motivated by love. 


Not by fear. 


Not by religion. 


Not by striving.


A life of following God is marked by adventure. Exhilarating. With purpose. And He pursues us. He pursues us despite our ignorance...disobedience...or indifference. 


Romans 5:8 "Christ didn't die for people who already loved him. He died for sinners--people whose lives were bound up and directed by sinful desires that went contrary to God's will. It was the sick he came to cure, not the healthy."



Acts 4: ¹² "Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.”




He made you on purpose. With a purpose. And OH how He loves you.

"I wish I was more obedient."

My dog, Mimu, up until last January, had touched the inside of her carrier kennel ONCE. Twice, tops. [That event included interstate driving, a lot of unbearable whining, letting her out, and her semi-successful attempt to scale my back like a cat at 75 mph on I-90. But that's a story for another time. We probably shouldn't be alive.]


When I started my temp job back in January, I had to start doing a lot of things differently. After 6 months of leisurely lounging around with my pup all day I was suddenly faced with a dilemma: lock up my precious baby for 8 hours a day in her kennel, or spend 20 minutes every evening after work locating and cleaning up pee spots? 


Yep. In the kennel she went.


For the last 3 months, every morning goes just about the same. It hits about 8:30 AM, I am scrambling for a last minute sock or bobby pin before I leave for work, and Mimu is no where to be found. I call her name. I search the upstairs. Flip a few couches. I usually find her curled up in some far corner of the house with her eyes closed--as if she's attempting to feign sleep for disobedience. As I pick her up, she'll crack a lid and look at me sideways out of the corner of her eye, as if to say, 


"Ohhh you were calling for me. I thought you wanted the...other Mimu."


Some mornings I'll find her before she's had a chance to hide, and as I say her name [slowly, with that disapproving tone, eyebrows furrowed...Mimuuuuuuu] she will immediately shrink down--as if crawling under a tiny, invisible limbo stick--and try to slink away in shame.


No matter what state I find her in, I quickly pick her up with a hand around her belly, promptly walk to the kennel, and slide her inside with two of her toys while trying to avoid direct eye contact. Seriously, her eyes are so SAD! Anyway.


This has been our routine since January 23rd. So...this has happened roughly 100 times. Every weekday morning.


Until Tuesday.


Tuesday morning I climbed the stairs as I got ready to leave for work, I began calling her name as always. As I peeked my head around the corner of the upstairs hallway to see if I could see her slinking away, I watched her do something that made me choke up. {I'm such a sap.}


There she was laying in the middle of the room. As I spoke she lifted her head, looked at me, picked up the bone she had been gnawing on, and made her way to her kennel where she proceeded to climb in and settle down. I couldn't believe it.


I know dogs don't have thoughts like we do. I know. But I started tearing up when I thought about how, even though she knew she would spend 8 hours alone in that kennel, she climbed in anyway because I wanted her to and she trusted me. That's all there was to it. She doesn't like it. I tell her to do it. And she does because (I'd like to think) she trusts me and I love her. I may have sentimentally let some tears fall all the way to work that morning.


In that, I guess I saw a glimpse of how God wants me to live. There are a LOT of things I do on a weekly basis that I don't directly enjoy because I know God wants me to and I've trusted Him with my life. And if it made me that happy to see my dog blindly follow my direction, how much more must our Heavenly Father be pleased when we blindly trust in Him?


How many times a week do I feel conviction from the Holy Spirit but ignore it? Hearing the call while lazily curled up in some far corner of the house with my eyes closed. Hearing His warning and attempting to feign sleep for disobedience. Yep, I'll crack a lid and look at Him sideways out of the corner of my eye, as if to say,


"Ohhh you were calling for me? I thought you meant the...other Kayla."


Psalm 18:2 says, 
"The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."


What if when God speaks in my life and says, "Turn off that movie/show/song. It's not what's best for you," I just DO it? What if He says, "This is a relationship you should invest time in, even though it'll be awkward at first," and I PURSUE that? What if He says, "You don't know why, but I want you to work at US Bank." And what if I just obediently climb in that big 'ole "kennel" and trust that He knows best? 


I don't think I'm ever going to look back and think:


I sure wish I had been less obedient.


Only God could use a pup [in need of a haircut and potty-training] for His glory. Amen.

"I hate being ignored."

So after my blog on selfishness a few weeks ago, I knew it was time for an attitude adjustment. About my work predicament, anyway. I was going to stop being so proud. Be more patient. Surrender my motives.


Thing is, when you're aiming for humility you don't become more humble. You get humbled. [They sound similar, but the latter is usually more painful, embarrassing, and all around unpleasant.]


Last Thursday, for example. It was the end of a pretty busy day and after the lobby closed my two coworkers and I got a chance to chat about the day. Somehow we got on the subject of faith. I thought, "Ooh, here I go, God!" I started sharing with them about the internship I'm starting, my excitement and reservations, and eventually that I feel my faith has really grown in the past year in a large part to my time spent in the Dominican Republic.


I thought I'd bring out the "big guns" and I began telling them a particularly intense encounter I had watching a demon possessed girl at a church service one night. I shared about how I saw her flail around, overpower a man 3x her size, and eventually fall lifeless on the ground at the front of the church aisle. [I could tell by my coworkers' faces that I was quickly moving from 'friendly new girl' to 'crazy Bible thumper' but I had to keep going]. I thought for SURE I'd get their attention when I told them about how the pastor began ordering the demon in the name of Jesus to leave the church as the girl's limp body began rolling down the church aisle on its own. 


The second after I finished my story--half breathless, eyes wide--awaiting their responses, I heard...


*turns to other coworker* "So, will my time off next Friday still count as paid vacation?"


That was it. It was like I had never spoken. I would have taken flagrant disbelief over that. Call me a crazy person before you blatantly ignore me, please. My mind was racing.


GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I'm quitting. I hate it here. What just happened? That was supposed to be a shock and awe story! What. the. HELL. 


And then I sat behind my teller line and counted the same stack of one hundred, one dollar bills until I was certain my angry tears were no longer in danger of falling out of my eyes. I thought of at least 10 great one-liners that would have stopped them in their tracks for their rudeness...but on second thought I realized none of them would be conducive to my further employment. [dang].


After 5 weeks of politely eating up their dating, relationship, and life advice [from not-so Godly people] with a spoon, it's hard to explain how I was feeling [and not have you think less of me for the expletives I would inevitably have to use to describe it].


That's how it works? They don't know how much they hurt me, and I'll never tell them. I feel like God wants me to know that it's OK that only He knows how it made me feel. I'd like to think at the end of my story that afternoon, as I frantically counted [and recounted...and REcounted] my cash, He whispered, 


"Thank you for telling them what you saw. That's all you can do, my girl."

"I think 'One Size Fits All' is a load of crap."

Ever looked at the tag on the inside of a hat? It reads *ONE SIZE FITS ALL. [You can find similar tags on stuff like arm/leg bands, tube dresses, fanny packs, and other elastic treasures].


Frankly, those tags kind of tick me off. Why? Because I have a disproportionately large head. A big noggin'. Like to the point where a lot of elastic headbands give me throbbing headaches after a couple hours of wear. And hats never, EVER look good on me. Everrrrrrr.


ONE SIZE FITS ALL? Liars.


Dermatologists [and beauty magazines] tell us it's really important to use facial moisturizer. I have oily skin, but against my better judgement I decided that those anonymous doctors and editors knew best and used Cetaphil lotion on my face this morning. Made my face so greasy that by 3 pm this afternoon I needed sunglasses to block the glare coming off my cheeks and nose when I looked down at my feet. Case in point: facial moisturizers, like hats, are not for everyone. 


What else? Health gurus [though the advice does change monthly, if not weekly] tell us to eat lots of whole grains for fiber, greek yogurt for healthy digestion, almonds and walnuts for omega-3's (or 6's? I get them confused), and citrus fruits for important vitamins. WELL, for a period of about six years I just so happened to be allergic to ALL of those things. Gluten, wheat, milk, citrus fruits, and tree nuts. Instead of healthy digestion and a well-nourished body, I got rashes, headaches, head colds, sore throats, and a stomach so bloated you'd think I sucked on a helium tank for lunch. Bad health advice for the vast majority of people? No. But what was wonderfully healthy for most  people was death on a plate, for me. 


All these "exceptions to the rule" got me thinking. Can Christianity be like that? 


I think so.


Since God desires relationship [not religion], many facets of the Christian life aren't dictated by universals [think outside the 10 Commandments and anything else strictly labeled in the Bible as sin]. We have choice. Yet, people love rules. We love rules that say "This is OK for everyone." and "No one can do this." Black and white. Rules make us comfortable and we don't have to be in real relationship with God when we have a list of rules.  


Relationships have nuances. They're gray. We don't treat all of our friends or family members the same. My mom and I have a completely different relationship than my brother and mom do. I share and do different things with different friends. I think [in some ways] Christ is like that with us as believers. 


Examples? 


1) I don't drink alcohol anymore. It's not because I think anyone who does drink is going to Hell or because I hate beer [which I do. the smell AND taste]. I have a family history of alcoholism and I feel it's a slippery slope for me. I have many Christian friends who partake in a drink every once in awhile without any conviction. 


2) I have Christian friends who have stopped listening to secular music altogether. They don't think it's necessarily sinful, they have just discerned for themselves that their hearts are taken away from God by certain songs and lyrics. They don't look down on me for my array of Pandora stations. God hasn't told me that's not OK. When/if He does, I will be listening.


3) Well, I'm starting to feel convicted about watching movies...Now, before you think I'm turning all extreme and conservative, let me explain. When I watch movies I get really dissatisfied with my life. I want to look different, to have a different job, hometown, dating situation, personality...whatever. I watched Soul Surfer a few weeks ago--and by the end of the film I halfheartedly wished I only had one arm and lived somewhere tropical with beach hair and an extremely good looking family. Or I even watched the new Disney Tangled and found myself thinking, "I wish I had long hair. Why did I cut my hair? Would I look good as a blonde?" Sounds ridiculous, I know. I would never tell anyone else that it's a sin to watch movies. But for me movies seem bring about discontent...and I think that's not something God wants for me. Will I stop watching them? Who knows. 


There are lots of other "gray" areas I've heard people talk about. People wanting to make absolute rules for Christians about dancing, jewelry, TV shows, vocabulary, Internet sites, dating, tattoos/piercings, clothing choices, careers, etc. I've seen it create huge divisions between believers and churches as a whole.


When it comes to those gray areas--areas God hasn't explicitly said in His Word are sinful--then I think we have to pray about them and trust that the Holy Spirit will convict us individually in His perfect timing. And when He tells us something is not OK for us [even if it's OK for our uncles, best friends, or pastors], we should accept it instead of making it an absolute truth for every other Christian we know. 
²³ “Everything is permissible for me”—but not everything is beneficial. “Everything is permissible”—but I will not be mastered by anything. -1 Cor 10:23

What are your exceptions to *ONE SIZE FITS ALL? 

"I get stuck on stupid details, like college degrees."

I was reading Exodus a few weeks ago. Specifically, I was reading about Moses and the burning bush. It's a story I've heard many times, but this day God breathed some new life into the plot. New life. And some humor.


Side note: I like to think that God uses humor with me because I'm His child...who He created...with a healthy appetite for wit. [Before Christ, when I was a *non* recovering perfectionist, I had a particular, raging appetite for sarcasm. Usually the dry, biting kind that tore other people down. The Holy Spirit convicted me about that. Luckily, God's since shown me you can be hilarious and still love Jesus.] 
Side side note: hilarious does not = witty b*****...but that's another blog post entirely.


Anyway.


For a little background, last fall my church's youth pastor encouraged me to consider doing an internship with the youth at our church. I said no. Actually, I said:


"I prayed about it and I don't feel this is right." 


I did pray about it. But when you don't want someone to question your decision about something, you say God told you so. Someone might disagree with your decision, but he/she won't take on God. [Now you know, for next time]. In truth, I was intimidated and felt incompetent and wanted in no way to commit myself to anymore time in Mitchell than absolutely necessary. I had a lot of excuses to say no. Legitimate ones. Lack of experience. Personality flaws. Different areas of interest. My age. An entire: "This-Will-Never-Work-Out-Because-Of-_________ , list."


My pastor let it go, for awhile. But he asked me in March to consider the internship again. If you've read any of my past blog posts, you'll know a lot of life has happened to me since last fall. Namely, Mitchell seems to be much more permanent than I'd hoped. So I started praying about it a little more purposely this time.


Re-enter: the Exodus/Moses story. As I read about Moses standing in front of the burning bush, listing his excuses before God as to why he was not up to the task at hand, I pictured myself in the church office, reciting my "This-Will-Never-Work-Out-Because-Of __________, list" to my pastor. 


Of course I am [or imagine myself to be] much younger, cleaner, and more feminine than Moses...and my pastor wasn't a shrub [nor on fire]...but I trust you can see the parallels nonetheless. 


And that's when God gave me a fresh, humorous Word. Very clearly in my mind's-eye I saw Moses standing before the burning bush...overwhelmed...avoiding eye-contact with the flames...staring down and to the left at a small hill of sand...nervously twisting an un-sandaled heel into the ground...as he stammered, 


"Yahweh, I...uh...well, I didn't really MAJOR in Leading People Out of Egypt."


I think I snorted aloud at this point. And in that one, hilariously divine daydream, I knew God was answering my prayer. 




I started the internship this morning. And I...uh...didn't really MAJOR in Youth Ministry. 

⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  -2 Cor 12:9

Has God ever used your funny bone to teach you a lesson?