To Love...Genuinely.

“Let love be genuine."-Romans 12:9

Genuine.  Let love be genuine.

So many times I’ll love selfishly - only doing something that seems kind or good, because it will benefit me.  I’ll only want to love someone, truly love them, if they’ll give me love in return.  Or, I’ll not truly love someone because it’s too hard to.  They’re too hard to love, I’ll tell myself.  But really, I’m pretty hard to love myself. 

If I truly loved as Christ loves us, then my whole outlook would change.  Instead of worrying about random this or random that while talking to someone, I’d switch from talking to listening - with both ears.  I’d ask about their week, I’d be sincere, I’d cry when they cried and laughed when they laughed.  I’d love them, truly, completely - genuinely.  

It means I’d pray for them constantly.  It means that I would ask them about their faith, their Bible time, their relationship with God.  With God’s help, I’d encourage them - pointing them towards Him.  I wouldn’t compare, wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t be too harsh.  I’d love them as Christ loves us - completely.  I’d forgive instantly and never hold grudges.  I’d “bear their burdens" with them.  I’d show them I was there for them - that God was there for them.  

I wouldn’t be fearful, or nervous, because my goal would not be “how does this make me look?", but "how does this look to God?"

With God’s help I can.  And it’s because He loves me, that I can love them.  Perfectly, completely, fully, trustingly, wholly…

…genuinely.  

Growing

It’s so weird this growing up thing.  

I remember when I was young that I always talked about being big and getting older and how such-and-such age was soooo old and how I’d be so wise. 

But really, I remember as a young girl thinking, “when I’m older, everything will become so much simpler."  In fact, I had my whole life planned out: it was all so simple in my mind.  Hey, seven-year olds totally have a realistic view on the world, the future, and everything in-between, right?

I’m curious though, why does it seem to be so hard?  Is it because I can’t plan every little detail down to every little moment of every little day?  Is it because life is just crazy and unpredictable?

Or is it because of me?  

It seems like every second I have to fight against my flesh and my sin and my desires in order to just live.  I can’t just conquer one sin, then move onto the next, conquer that one, and keep conquering until I’m almost perfect.  I can’t be perfect of course, only Jesus can be.  

Only Jesus can be.  Hmm. 

I didn’t expect to lose my Papaw at sixteen.  I didn’t expect to start college at sixteen.  I didn’t expect to feel overwhelmed with the simple everyday actions and things that come and go.  I didn’t expect to feel lost and lonely and sad and hurt and torn.  Those feelings were for other people, right?  Or for all those people in the movies?  But of course, that was always deceptive…it almost always turned out right.  And sometimes, you even knew the end before the story was even close to being over.  

So then why can’t I see my own story?  Why can’t I just see and remember and know that GOD IS IN CONTROL.  And that I’m not.  This knowledge just keeps getting stuck up in my brain - just sitting tight until I remember that one random day that, oh yeah!, He’s in control.  But why can’t I just know all the time?  So many times questions like these just swirl around and around in my head.  I long for peace, but I’m too selfish to accept it from the One who gives it.  Why? Why…WHY!

I feel old.  Even if not physically, mentally I feel forty years older than I really am.  But yet, I also feel terribly young: young in faith, and young in character.

I need God’s help so often.  And I need His help to ask for His help.  That seems so ironic, but yet, if I didn’t have His help to ask for His help, I’d rely on MY help to get me through my life.  And that won’t work.  Only Him.  Only God. 

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I Once Was Lost...

Running.  Faster and faster.  I keep stumbling over branches and roots.  I don’t know where I am.  Why can’t I find Him?  Where did He go?  

I’m exhausted, so I lay down on the damp grass.  Any glimpses of light have already faded from the sky.  Only a still, bleak darkness remains.  

I’m lost.  And I’m the only one.  Whimpering and weakly calling over and over to Him.  Will He come for me?  Will He come look for me?  I don’t know if He will.  It’s all my fault anyway, I ran away.  I didn’t mean to in the first place, I just meant to step away a bit.  The other side looked so much easier, I just wanted to go over for a minute.  But then it turned into a day, a week, and as everyone else kept moving on, I stayed farther and farther behind.  I thought I was together.  I thought I was fine - a pretty good thing.  But somehow, I strayed off.  And here I was, trying to find comfort in a dark, cold land.  

I knew I would never be able to find the way by myself.  But I just kept on trying to hope - He WOULD find me, wouldn’t He?  

I called out to Him, over and over.  Praying He would come pick me up and put me in His arms - the place that I would be safe forever.  "Please, please," I would cry, “find me please." 

With my last ounce of strength, I whispered, “Father, I am yours.  And nothing can ever take me away from You.  You will find me."  

And all was dark.  Silence. 

But then, I felt His arms.  He came and cradled me - wrapping me in His soft cloak.  

“It is not the will of your Father that one of these little ones should parish.  You are mine, and I will not ever loose you.  I will protect you and keep you safe.  Even when you’re frightened, you will know that I am here because I will say so."

I was found. 

—-

“What do you think?  If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine and go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying?  And if he should find it, assuredly, I say to you he rejoices more over that sheep than over the ninety-nince that did not go astray.  Even so it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should parish." -Matthew 18: 12-14

My Land.

I loved my land.

The place where the soft purple flowers bloomed on the hills every spring. Where the neighbors would go visit each other riding on their blue, red, green, or yellow tractors.  How with every wisp of wind, the long grass would flicker and dance from luscious green to soft silver, from warm gold to brilliant jade.  No fear could find us as we would walk along the lonely roads—dodging the gaping holes, looking over the low bridges to stare deeply into into the nearby creeks and rivers.  Birds could be heard singing softly through the trees: bringing in every sunrise and laying down every sunset.  The warm, musty, smell of the earth clung to every bare foot and shirt.  Admired the lightening, gloried in the thunder, and praised for the rain.

I loved my land.

Here I could rest content, leaning against his side as we rode to the back in our tractor.  Feeling the supportive arm wrapped around my waist—assuring me I wasn’t going anywhere.  Loving the uncontrollable laughter at the peculiarity of the animals.  Raising our voices with every “Ho Cow!" and “Hey!": calling the animals in for their daily bread.  We would always sit on the back porch talking of the work and drinking sweet, iced tea—talking about how the grass grew and the new calf born.  Just me and him.   Sometimes my brothers, sister, or mother: all talking to our Papaw and “Dad."  We would build fences and make hay, dig ponds and catch fish.  Telling stories ‘round the campfire and jumping from behind trees: yelling and giggling at the surprised faces and squeals.  Loving the family, loving the food, loving the laughter, and loving the land. 

And then, he was gone.  Gone forever from the land he fostered and built.

And for some reason, I didn’t love the land anymore.  Never walked down the quiet roads, never went to the back.  Stayed away from the pond and shunned the cows and chickens.  Stopped watching the sunrises and forgot the song of the birds.  Put on the socks and shoes and left the beauty of the grass.  

Because he was gone.

It wasn’t just my land, it wasn’t our land—it was his land.  His land we stayed on, played on, lived on, worked on.  And I couldn’t stand it.  For without him, I felt lost: living in a place I barely knew.  For every small whiff of the land wreaked of the pain embedded deep within our hearts.  And so, I forgot the land.  We still took care of the cows and chickens—but with a mechanical movement devoid of feeling and emotion.  

So, time went on.  Leaves changed and fell, air moved from cool to cold.  Christmas came and went.  Happiness was felt, laughter was had, but tears were shed too.  We could no longer hold hands and pray without remembering his missing voice and talk of blessings.  The new year came, the earth came alive from its long sleep, and we lived on.

And then, it was spring.  

And with new life, brought new hope.  Slowly but surely, the love returned.  Still marred with tears, pain, and sorrow, but filled with glimpses of hope and flutters of true joy.  We walked the roads, cut the grass, planted the flowers, and sang our songs.  Stayed up long and talked of memories.  Learned to love and let love live.

Yes, he was gone forever from this earth, but his life and legacy remained in every blade of grass, new calf, and old wooden fence.  His songs and the soft strums of the guitar could never be heard, but the words didn’t change—even if the voices did.  No words can be said, no thoughts can be shared, but life was here.

I loved the land.  But more than that, I love the people who live on the land.  The people who built the land.

Carry Us Through

So I am not a poet - in any sense of the word, :) but the other day when trials and burdens seemed slightly overwhelming, God put a few words on my heart. 

---

When we're feeling lost and lonely,

The only thing that we can do,

Is look to Jesus, the pure and holy,

He will always guide us through.

When we're feeling weak and helpless,

Devoid of hope and hurt from pride,

God is always there to help us,

He will always be our guide.

When we're overwhlemed with worry,

When our burdens seem too hard,

"Simply to the CROSS" we'll carry,

"Everything to God in prayer."

---  

Back at the beginning of this past fall, I was talking with a friend on the phone.  We were talking back and forth about how crazy it has been and about how much everything changes as the years go by.  I was also sharing some frustrations that I was facing, as well as feelings of inadequacy in my physical and spiritual life.  Pretty much, for some reason, I was convinced that I wasn't doing enough: enough school, enough work, enough struggling.  I was convinced that whatever I was going through was less then everyone else because it wasn't enough.  

Well, God bless her, she knocked me on my noggin and told me to think again.  

"Listen girl, don't you think that whatever you're going through, whatever you're experiencing, is any less than anyone else because it's different.  What happens to you, what you go through, is specific to you.  It's not any less hard, or less growing, than what I go through or my Mom or whoever, because it is happening to you!  God know exactly how he wants you to grow, and what you go through fits into His plan for you."

(I have awesome friends). :)

Anyway...it could be that you're trying to find out what to do with your life.  You may be unsure of what is ahead, or you could be belittling yourself like I was.  But, like my friend pointed out, don't forget that God has a plan for you.  That God knows what's best in ALL circumstances, even when those circumstances seem like the farthest thing from anything good.  Don't get down and overburdened with your future or your life or your circumstances, but simply to carry all your hopes, sorrows, and fears to God.  He will always carry us through. 

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."-Joshua 1:9

"Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know."-Jeremiah 33:3

"Be still, and know that I am God..."-Psalm 46:10

"Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."- Isaiah 41:10

A Reminder

A while ago my Mom and I sat down in Panera Bread, our steaming cups of decaf coffee keeping our hands warm. Roasting next to the fire, we talked and laughed and cried about all matters of the heart.  Well, my heart that is.  It's a tricky thing to deal with, the heart: that thing that wants to love, deceive, bless...

But not only does it do this, it also asks big, lurking questions about all things.  Specifically about my faith.

Am I truly saved?  I'm such a sinner, how dare I ask for God's mercy?  If everything we do is supposed to glorify Him, than why spend times on other things?  On things like entertainment or education that take away our time from the Lord?  Is it good to question my faith?

All I can cry out is "Save me, oh Lord!"  And I have no others words.

A months ago, my family was standing in a circle holding hands and praying, and a certain thought started to bother me: If we should be focusing on eternal things, then why do we have "things" in the first place?  If we truly focus on these eternal goals, then why spend time other things?  Like I said up there, on things that take us away from our personal time with God?

But no matter how many questions I ask myself, my mother, my father...only truly God can answer these questions.

Some people accuse this of being too simplistic.  But you see, that's part of the beauty.  That doesn't mean we are not accountable for our sins or what we do, but that does mean that we don't have to worry.  We don't have to worry about who we're marrying, or what we are doing with our education.  This doesn't mean we don't prepare, wait, watch, and pray...but we don't worry.