come.

Lord, where are You?

Why are You silent?

and so I sit here on my bed, tears running down my face, pen slipping out of my fingers because my thoughts are running too fast for ink to flow, too many emotions and feelings to be captured by mere words. I can’t shape these feelings into graceful words, elegant pleadings with Christ, psalms like David’s that rage at God in words beautiful and poetic.

My anger is much less refined.

Instead He gets tears, ugly tears, face-turning-red-ragged-breath tears, because that is all that is left within me. I cannot always cry out to God with words, because words are complicated and messy and I don’t always know how to use them, what to say and what to ask for.

and so I sit on my bed. Pen next to my journal, staring at the blank page, crying to the sounds of Jon Foreman and hoping God can translate. That He’ll know my tears and my silence mean Father, draw near and God, why don’t I feel You working in my life? and Lord, help. That’s He’ll understand and know my anger, frustration, loneliness. That He’ll see the desperate need in my soul and He’ll come and fill it, because I know that He will, because that’s what He does, but right now He feels so far away and I feel so lost.

and so I sit and I take my pen in hand, form my thoughts into clumsy sentences, spilling emotions and teardrops onto the page, because that’s the only way I know to keep going and keep hoping and keep waiting on God.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Advertisements

I Am

Tonight, the Lord whispered truth into my heart (while I was sitting in my car, parked on some random street halfway between my house and the grocery store, with the window down, listening to the night and asking God to get me through the next three days).

This is what He said:

I am strength.

I am peace.

I am your hiding place.

I am shelter.

I am your creator. 

I am Alpha and Omega.

I am beginning and end.

I am Lord of Lords and I am King of Kings.

I am in control.

I am powerful.

I am your God.

I am your strong tower.

I Am.

I am not.

But He is.

making me something

It blows my mind to see at God at work, to see Him moving and changing hearts and bringing life. It blows my mind even more when I don’t see God at work. Don’t see the process, don’t see the steps, don’t know what’s happening. And then all of a sudden, He opens my eyes and BAM, God did some awesome and I totally had no clue what He was up to, but He was up to something all right.

like the fact that I am beautiful. I am His beautiful child and His beautiful creation and He is daily making me more like Him.

like the fact that my roommate uses words such as patient and quiet and sweet-spirited to describe me. Me. Me? because I am loud and obnoxious and like to yell at friends across the cafeteria and tend to interrupt people and hate waiting in traffic and there is nothing meek or gentle about me.

but apparently…there is.

You know all those Biblical descriptions of women? Those ones that they hold up in church and say “be like this”. The ones about rising early to feed your family and not adorning yourself with braided hair or gold and being quiet and gentle – they always kind of make me shudder.

Because, people, I am independent and determined and a wee bit feminist and stubborn and I love a braid in my hair. so, obviously, there is no hope for me. I’m not really the kind of girl who’s going to win a Proverbs 31 Woman award.

but maybe, beneath that loud obnoxious surface – beneath my crazy laughter and my recklessness and my headstrong nature – there is a gentle and quiet and patient soul. a soul that waits on Him. a soul that accepts His guidance. a soul that loves fiercely. a soul that by the grace of God is redeemed. a soul that Jesus is making more beautiful, more like Him.

And so, I might be that woman after all. Not the Proverbs 31 one, but maybe I could handle being a 1 Timothy 2:9-10 woman.

I’m not perfect. I’m not saying that I should be held up as a Biblical example of womanhood, because that would be a really bad idea. But many of the women in the Bible were independent and determined and messed up too, and basically downright ballers, because they let God use them and He made their messes into something beautiful and they proceeded to further His kingdom and kick butt all over the Old and New Testaments. so I think this is what I’m trying to say:

God is making me into something.

He has a plan for me and His plan is written in His word.

His plan is for me to be a beautiful creation reflecting His majesty.

His plan is for me to be a 1 Timothy women. A Mary, a Martha, an Esther, a Deborah, a Ruth, a Rahab, maybe even a Proverbs 31 woman. Those are His blueprints. He can make it happen, and He is making it happen.

I’m so excited.