Poked by a Pea

When Danielle and I went down to Augusta, Georgia to celebrate Mike & Hil's wedding we experienced true Southern Hospitality. From the moment we landed in Atlanta and got a free upgrade on our rental car, to our final moments saying goodbye in a throng of hugs from all the new friends we made, we felt all sorts of love. One of my favorite demonstrations of this hospitality was the "Welcome Bag" from Hil which had a ton of snacks, maps of Augusta, and a bottle of water which I kept full of cold water to beat the Southern Heat.

My other favorite representation of wonderful hospitality and the motivation for the post, was the wonderful bed that I was given to sleep in. This bed was in one of the rooms in the beautiful home of Mr. Woods & Dr. Bates. After giving us a quick tour of the lower level of their house, and encouraging us to make ourselves at home, they showed Danielle and I the rooms we would be staying in. Dr. Bates compared the bed I would be staying in to the one Hans Christian Andersen's "The Princess and the Pea." Considering there were stairs on each side of the bed to give my 5'2"-ness a bit of a boost, the comparison was pretty transparent. As I went to sleep that each night, I couldn't help but think of myself as the Princess and wonder if there was a pea beneath me that I was supposed to be feeling.

So now I have to ask, have I been sleeping on a "pea" for years and just not realized it? How often is God calling me to do something and I'm completely oblivious to it? What exactly does God's call feel like? And how would "This Girl" respond to it?

I'm reminded of a great book by Emily Ryan called "Who Has Your Heart?" I read it the summer after my sophomore year with the lovely Stefanie (Here's a link to her wonderful blog in case you missed it from my first post- Check it out!) and feel as if I haven't stopped talking about it since. The author explores the story of Jephthah's daughter and the miraculous way in which she responds to being sacrificed as a result of a rash vow her father made. She gives up her life without a second thought, because her dad promised to give God whatever came out of his house first to greet him. The pain he must of felt- He just made a promise to God to sacrifice his only child. And what was going through her head?

I wish I had half the strength she did. Rather than arguing with her father, begging to find someway out of this horrible situation, trying to bargain with God to be called to something, anything else. I mean that's how Jonah responds. And Moses. And Jeremiah. Really, it is a natural response. But, like Jephthah's daughter shows us (in beautiful foreshadowing of the gift of Christ himself) we should respond without hesitation, fear, doubt, or worry because God will take care of it all. He's got this.

While I'm not sure what the "pea" is that is under my bed, I hope to be the kind of "girl" that responds like Jephthah's daughter and goes where God calls her, acts as He moves her, and loves like He loves her. In the meantime, while I'm hunting for the bed with the pea, I'm going to try to respond to each situation I am in with the same enthusiasm and confidence to see where that leads... because it may just be what God is calling me too after all.

Looking Back

Last week was a bit of a mess for me. I wasn't feeling very well, either the start of some really bad allergies or some sort of a cold (I'll find out this afternoon after I visit the doctor), and I was running on only a few hours of sleep- the storms that were coming through the Twin Cities scared my poor dog Rory and sent her running up the stairs and into my bedroom where she would shove her fair into mine in the middle of the night. I was also scrambling to finish my exam for summer intensive class and get my assignments done for my online class all before I left for the airport to fly down to Georgia for my dear friend Hilary's wedding. Needless to say when I woke up at 5:30 am that morning to bring the dogs to daycare while I was going to be out of town, I wasn't at my best.

Rory and Hannah.

Things started out great. Both of the dogs had slept with me the night before, and they didn't seem too upset that I was shoving them both out of bed earlier than they would have liked. I took a shower, finished packing, and thanks to the automatic brew function on the coffee maker, all I had to do was throw a few things in the car, fill up my to-go mug, and I would be on my way. I got both of the dogs and their food in the car, and managed to find room for my own suitcase. I had pushed the button to both garages doors open because I was planning on taking my Mom's car to drop off the dogs and to the airport, which meant I could leave my car in her spot in the garage. I started the car and went to look out the rear-view mirror. All I saw were Rory and Hannah's huge bodies and heads. It sounded like the garage door had stopped moving, so I figured I was good to go. I looked out the side view mirror as I was backing up, and I saw that the garage door hadn't made it all the way up. I quickly hit the breaks and pushed the button in the car again which did nothing. Then I decided I should jump out of the car and trying opening it with the button on the wall. I opened the door from the car and pushed the gear stick into park... or at least I meant to. As I was half way out of the car, it continued rolling backwards and smashed into the half open door. I quickly jumped back in the car, got it to stop, and moved it back forward. In the next few minutes I realized I had destroyed the garage door and there was no way I would be able to get my Mom's car out, let alone get the door to open or close. So I quickly herded the dogs and all of our things into my car, and took a deep breath.

On my way to drop the dogs off at day care I couldn't believe what had just happened. It wasn't even 6:30 am yet! I called my aunt and uncle who lived a few miles away to tell them what happened and ask them to make sure the garage door could close and that the house was locked up. Next I tried to make a plan. First thing, get a hold of the parents and let them know what happened. Next, figure out how to fix it. I made it to St. Paul and called a company called "The Garage Door Guys" and they assured me I wasn't the first person to have done this and that they could fix it right away. (If I wasn't about to walk through security at MSP when I called them, I would have head them stop by immediately. Instead I waited until I made it back safely from Georgia). Then I sent a text message to my Mom who was floating around on a cruise ship in Norway to let her know what happened but that everyone was okay. Like any child I was nervous for their response, but as I should know by now they probably weren't surprised that this happened and instead of scolding me showered me with grace. (Again, I have some super awesome parents!) Once all of that was taken care, again I had made it to the airport and through security on time, I began to wonder "what can I learn from this?"

The obvious response was "Always make sure the garage door is open!","Check your mirrors!", and "Look Behind You!" But as I thought about the idea of looking back, I wondered what that should look like in our lives as Christians. I mean, our past makes us who we are... Each experience that we have contributes to the person we become. Each mistake and triumph I have had makes me the She that God intends for me to be. How can we appreciate our past in a way that allows us to acknowledge its importance without dwelling in it and never moving on? What approach would God like us to have to situations like this?

Philippians 3:13 pretty much says to just forget the past and focus on what lies ahead. Isaiah 43:18 shares that sentiment. And if you continue reading to verse 25 it says that God, who blots out our transgressions for His sake and that He won't even remember our sins. So is it safe to say that once we go through a process of confession and accept God's grace for each mistake we make, then we will be made new and can call it good? That's what 1 John 1:9 seems to be saying... and 2 Corinthians 5:17 says that if we are in Christ we are a new creation completely, with an old that has entirely passed away allowing the new to come.

But 2 Corinthians takes it a bit further in chapter 12. Verses 9-10 state that God's grace is sufficient for us, and that His power is made perfect in weakness... By boasting of our weaknesses the power of Christ can be rest upon us and we can proclaim His greatness. So does that mean that maybe we shouldn't just freely toss the past aside? Instead we should remember so that we can proclaim God's power and greatness that came from it.

So in this instance, I should remember God's power and greatness in: giving me parents who showed me wonderful grace; providing skilled and expedient repair men; wonderful friends who checked on the house and checked the repair work while I was still in Georgia (Thanks Laur!)... I guess that makes me a She who isn't afraid of mistake because I know He will provide a way to fix them and that everything that happens has a greater purpose. Wouldn't it be wonderfully to live as fearlessly as that last statement implies!


I guess now I'll hope to do exactly that so I can remember all His greatness... Only looking back when the car is in reverse and when recalling the past will allow us to proclaim God's greatness.

Breaking Rules, and Breaking Trails

Well, I'm fairly certain I broke one of the first rules of blogging with my first post. It was way too long. No one is going to want to read that. That means I don't want to wait months before my next post, or I'll have broken a second rule of blogging by not keeping my faithful readers (read: friends and family members who are obligated to read this so I can justify all the typing) engaged.

Oh, the dreaded "e" word. I was engaged once. For quite awhile actually, and I was sure that he was going to be The One. Things changed though. And up until a great conversation over coffee that I had with the wonderful Kathy Jones, a brilliant, beautiful, and bold Christian woman who is a part of the Upper Room staff, I thought that it was all my fault. I was convinced that I did something wrong to no longer deserve the honorable title of being his wife, or that even worse, in the days and weeks immediately after the "break-up" my stubbornness and love for this man lead me to ignore God's plan for my life.

Fortunately, the grace of God, and the wise women He has blessed my life with, have straightened things up for me.

First, contrary to my gut reaction of "It's all my fault! I'm a horrible woman who drove a great guy away!" I was reminded that I am not the ugly, weak, inadequate, unworthy, "failure" of a woman I was beginning to fear I was. Instead, I am a woman of God. An heir to His Kingdom, empowered by His grace and lead by His Spirit. (Really, learning, understanding, and accepting that took much longer than this paragraph would lead you to believe, but for sake of space and your attention, we're going to leave it at that.)

Second, (and this realization was pretty recent) I didn't act foolishly or behave in an "un-Godly" way by fighting back when my fiance tried to end our relationship. Many of my friends, and those wonderful parents of mine, encouraged me and supported me with love and prayers each step along the way and gave me my first sense of peace. When I decided to empty my checking account, jump on a plane, and skip my last week of classes of my first year of law school in order to be able to sit down and have a face-to-face conversation with him to try to figure out what happened, my support group was in full force. My roommate Andrew got on Kayak.com (his preferred travel site) and started looking for the next flight I could get on. My right-hand Nicole drove straight to my house when I texted her even though I still on the "break-up phone call", held my hand when I was crying on the bathroom floor, and offered to jump in the car and drive down there with me if we couldn't find a flight less than 3 months rent --- only she could make that adventure seem like a fun "Road Trip!!!" My parents didn't seem to flinch. Instead of saying "Should you really skip school and spend that much money?", they said "Of course, honey! Go! We'll drive you to the airport!" All my wonderful college roommates sent prayers my way and reminded me that I was wonderful. My law school friends offered to take notes for me and help me cram for exams once I got back. It was one of the moments in which I felt truly blessed. 


Their prayers, encouragement, and support continued to be a constant throughout the following weeks. Amidst all the crying, confusion, and uncertainty, I knew I had them and that everything was going to be okay. But as my former fiance felt more and more sure that this was "God's Will" I felt worse and worse. Not only was I not enough for him, I apparently wasn't following Him and His will for my life. I was, and am, devastated that I could turn away from the one Man who has always loved me, pursued me, and fought for me no matter what. It became hard to pick up the Bible, and I struggled to find words with which to pray and cry out to My God. But the pearl of wisdom that the lovely Kathy Jones shared with me last Monday afternoon, gives me a new found hope and peace.

God isn't always going to give us a clear sign. Sure, some people may feel at "peace" but who is to say that that is always His Spirit coming over them and giving them affirmation rather than simply a sense of relief at finally taking control of a situation which felt helpless? Life is a series of decisions. Some we can make without a second thought. Others are a bit more difficult. Maybe they have the potential to impact many years of your future rather than just a few seconds. Maybe it will impact the lives of others in addition to yourself. Or maybe it's just a really tough call, "Should I wear the dark blue one-shoulder dress or the strapless mauve dress to Hilary's wedding?" Regardless, the choice is ours, and while I firmly believe God will place certain things on our hearts and minds, we cannot say with the utmost confidence that we know exactly what He is going to have in store for us, and He isn't always going to give us a clear sign. Often we'll have to step forth in faith, hoping and praying for the best, trusting that He has great things in store.

Kathy reminded me of this when we met for coffee. She said sometimes God speaks to us most clearly, by stopping us in our tracks. By ending the relationship I thought was meant to last forever, even though I tried to "make it work", He was letting me know it wasn't quite what He had in store. It doesn't mean that I should have just been okay with it when I first got the "We're not right for each other" phone call. Instead, it means that I should run the race on the path that I'm on, for as long as I possibly can until He stops me, or directs me another way... It was right for me to fight. It didn't mean that I was demonstrating disobedience to Him, or that I thought my way was better than His... It meant that I was acting in faith, giving it my all, and seeking to truly understand where He wanted me to be.

Or at least that's what I took away from the conversation. She also recommend a book called, "Chasing Day" by Erwin McManus. It's now on my summer reading list, and I'll come back to post and let you all know what he has to say. But for now, I'm going to work on running the race and continue being the Girl who isn't afraid to chase after what she thinks God wants of her when the occasion calls for it because once I get off course, He'll put me back on the right track. I might be able to break blogging rules, but I can't break a new trail... That's something only He can do.

Houseguests

"Who is this Girl?", they asked.

My response was, "This girl is me."

It seemed like a simple enough question. But for some reason it was asked over and over again this weekend. No matter how many times it was asked, my answers didn't suffice. It did however provide me with the much needed push to start a blog devoted to figuring out who "This Girl" who was made uniquely and intentionally by God really is. I've been inspired by my dear friends, Stefanie, Roberto, and Zach these past few weeks to starting blogging. I'm never at a loss for words, so why not share them, and increase my Internet presence? Kyle and Dan have given me the words to do exactly that, and for that I am truly blessed and thankful.  

One of my closest friends from college was in Minnesota this weekend to run Grandma's Marathon in Duluth. A few weeks ago when he asked if he could crash at my place the night after the race I didn't really think anything of it. I just figured it would be a nice night hanging out with one of my best friends, Zach. I figured I would find something for us to eat for dinner and after we cleaned our plates we would sit around talking and sharing, simply catching up on one another's lives. We would get to bed early so we could make a morning trip to Starbucks, paying homage to the place where we really came to know one another and became best friends, and around lunch time he would head back down to Iowa. But this visit was far from that.

My Best Friend/Favorite Coffee Buddy Zach

As the weekend drew closer I realized that this man who has always been a phone call, text message, or even old fashioned letter away for the past five years, would soon be out of touch. He is currently preparing to travel all around the world as God's hands and feet with the World Race, and once September comes, I'll be spending the next 11 months looking for a new coffee buddy. As far as I was concerned I wanted our visit this weekend to be a weekend to remember. I wanted to fill it with reminiscing about all the times we've had together: Friday morning coffee dates at the Starbucks on Clinton and Burlington where we would patiently wait for the wonderful Coach Ferentz to walk in the door; the night we first met shaking hands in the dark behind a potted plant at a campus ministry lock in, and how no other handshake will ever compare; all the Iowa football games; and the promises we've made to one another- to marry one another if we're both still single at 30, and to always have a place for one another to call home. 

I found myself becoming nervous as Monday became Tuesday, and Tuesday, Wednesday...  I was worried that we wouldn't be able to fit it all in in a night, and that my best friend wouldn't get to hear how proud I am of him, how blessed I am to have had his friendship and support through everything life has brought us, and the long list of presents I would like for him to get me while he's traveling the world. I became even more worried once I learned from my dear friend Danielle that Zach was going to be bringing another friend along. I figured Danielle would be with us since she was running the marathon with Zach, but I didn't know strangers, friends of friends of friends would be a part of this get together.  I had this fear that I was somehow supposed to find a place for 5,000+ sweaty finishers to sleep and enough food for everyone to eat. All I could hope for was that Jesus would be one of the many guests, and that He would bring some fish and loaves to share... While that didn't happen, what I experienced was truly a miracle.

The Guys - Showered

Danielle called me when the group was on their way to the my house, and gave me her first impressions of Zach's friends who would be joining us. She eased many of my fears when she told me that there were only two guys joining, and that they were all exhausted and sore from the short 26.2 miles they just ran. When they walked in the door, I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief between huge hugs for Zach and Danielle - not only had the guys showered before the 3 hour car ride from Duluth to the Cities, but they were both polite and seemed genuinely happy to be here. 

The "Great Meal"

As we sat down for dinner, the question of "Who is this Girl?" started floating around - first from the guys to Zach, and later in the evening, directly to me. Either my attempts at procrastinating from working on my Health Care Compliance Summer Institute final exam, and completing this week's assignments for my online Professional Responsibility class gave some remarkable results, or I have been raised by some really wonderful parents. I think it's the latter, because my procrastination isn't something that comes naturally to me and I really only had time to set out a cheese tray, toss a bag salad into a bowl, put a loaf of frozen garlic bread in the oven, and boil noodles with olive oil and garlic on top  which I eventually called "Pasta".


Once the question was out there, I felt like I had to come up with an answer. I'm not sure what Zach's response was... probably, "My friend." But mine was "I'm just me." I didn't think anything I did was particularly impressive or special, but they apparently did. I was loading the dish washer as they were helping to clear the table when the story of Mary and Martha came to mind. I have always felt a kinship with Martha. I even have the Martha Stewart Sirius radio station as a preset in the Ford Escape my parents recently bought, and desperately wish the show "Whatever, Martha!" would either come back on or come out on DVD. There is something about being hospitable that makes me feel like a true woman of God. 

Sure, the point of the story is that listening to God, sitting at the feet of Jesus seeking His wisdom and will is more important that being busy... but I love the perspective from the blog Grace Rules WeBlog. Mary's act was radical. Women were far from being considered "equal" to men. They weren't considered as being as smart, strong, able, or even worthy as men. They were found to be inferior in nearly every aspect. But that wasn't what God intended. God created both man and woman in His image. This isn't news to me... I've asked myself "Who Am I?" countless times as I've tried to figure out what God wanted of me, and I have come to learn that I am God's daughter, created in Him, by Him, to bring Him glory and honor. You would think that since I can rattle the answer to that question off with ease, the question "Who is this Girl?" should have the same answer, or at least something similarly... But really, it evokes an entirely different response. 

Who I am to me, is not who I am to others. Who I am in an introspective, "Who Am I?" context, is a far cry from what others see me, "This Girl" as. It is my goal to make those one in the same... To make the "Me" I see me as, the "She", the same "Girl" others see in me.

I think Kyle and Dan saw "This Girl" as a Martha. And while I am flattered, and grateful for the opportunity to practice hospitality in a way that hopefully made them feel "at home", I want to be more than Martha. I want to be Martha 2.0. Martha with a new found radicalism. I want to serve others, show them love, and make them meals in a radical way that makes people ask, "Should She even be here, doing what She's doing?" and have Jesus answer with a resounding, "She was Made to be here, and do exactly this."

While I haven't quite gotten that answer from Jesus, I do believe I got a pat on the back in approval from Kyle and Dan this weekend. And that's a great place to start. If I can show them love in such a way that makes them wonder, "Who is This Girl?" then there must be something different about me and I can only hope that that is God blessing me to be a blessing.

Many thanks to Danielle for being the Mary to my Martha this weekend by running the marathon and being a great example of a woman who sit at His feet, and to Zach for bring two wonderful strangers into my life, who have inspired me to someday run 26.2 miles, but to become "This Girl."