Pick at my brain a little, would ya?

Anxiety.

It rules my life if I let it, and it’s also the one thing that the Lord and I have been working on since before I can remember.

It started with my best friend being killed by a drunk driver when I was in 4th grade, and it was crippling until I was in high school.  I couldn’t leave my house without fear.  I very rarely spent the night at anyone’s house as a child.  I was a homebody in the worst sense of the word, really believing that I could control whatever went on with my family so long as I was around them.

I lived like this for almost 7 years, until the Lord saved me, both from hell and from myself.  When I was 15, I became a Christian.  For a year, I struggled and wrestled with my habitual tendency to worry about everything, and after a painstakingly hard year of confession and prayer, I felt free from this anxiety.

Then, at 22 years old, my world was turned upside-down with a phone call from my sister.  My brother had fallen off a waterslide and had a head injury.  She said that the EMS people said it was probably just a concussion.  They lied.  He was dead on arrival.  I received a phone call from 600 miles away from the rest of my immediate family in Oklahoma that my brother had died.

And so, my demon returned.

All of the hard work I put into repenting from worry and anxiety for the 7 years preceding my brother’s death were gone in the blink of an eye.  Not only did my anxiety return in full swing, but depression accompanied it in a way that I think no one can understand until they feel the emptiness of losing a loved one so suddenly.   I felt alienated from everyone.  My family, because I wasn’t grieving in anger or rage.  My friends, because I didn’t want them to know how bad I was hurting.  My church, because the last thing I wanted to hear was “God has a plan”.  I became my 4th grade self, feeling misunderstood by everyone I was supposed to trust.  And that, in turn, drove me deeper into depression, doing things so self destructive and horrible, I look back and wonder what in the world I was thinking.

And now, 4 years after my brother (hopefully) went to meet the Lord, I am realizing that my anxiety, though it is in a different form, is just as life-crippling as it was before.  No, I am not stuck in my house, afraid of the outside world.  I don’t have anxiety attacks anymore or feel afraid when I can’t get ahold of my parents after one unanswered phone call.

But I do struggle, still, with my habitual sin, and (shall I say it and be honest?) my unhealthy comfort.

I’m not into New Year’s resolutions, but I do have a goal that I have been striving for since November.  I want to be free of this idol in my life.  I want to let go of this anxiety, because it is a sin, and trust God in all areas of my life.  There are so many that I fret over that are so trivial.  The stress of worry has made my body look older than it is, made me feel older than I am, and stolen joy and adventure out of my life.  I’m not going to let that happen anymore.  Christ died so that I could live free from this!  How stupid of me to continue it!

So, those of you who read this, though I don’t know how often, won’t you pray with me?  And keep me accountable?  I’m confessing this sin out loud, for all on the world wide web to see, and I need prayer, encouragement, and most of all, a good kick in the rear whenever I’m being irrational (I have my husband to thank for keeping my head on straight.  He’s VERY good at it.)

Ironic that the first passage of scripture I memorized was Matthew 6:25-34, isn’t it?  Just goes to show that we have to pick up our Cross daily and that we are not invincible, no matter what we have overcome, if we stray from the Lord!

All my Christian life I have dreamed of doing some sort of ministry.  I love traveling, learning about new cultures, and telling those around the other side of the globe about our sweet Lord.  I love sharing the Lord with people in my community, too. It makes me feel small, yet part of something big like a tiny cog inside the guts of Big Ben.

Josh and I talk about all of our dreams.  We mull over how we fit into our niche here, and how we might fit into our niche in the future.  And the one thing that always sticks out to us is that we want to work with youth.

Yes.  We want to be youth pastors.

And last night we got a chance to see how we would do together in the crazy, yet exciting, world of interacting with teens.

Josh works with a girl who is 16.  She comes from a very bad home.  Her mother committed suicide, as did her brother.  Her father is in jail.  She has 8 siblings, and they are almost all from different fathers.  She lives with her sister, who is still a baby herself, and tries to take care of her younger siblings, all while walking 2.5 miles to work and going to school.

When I met her a few weeks ago, it was very brief, but she opened up to me and I gathered all that information in just a few minutes.  That was all it took for my heart to go out to her and for the Lord to speak to me.

When Josh came home from work that night, I told him, “We are inviting her over for dinner, and soon.”  So last week, I wrote her a note and sent it to her via Josh.  I asked her to come eat with us and hang out.  She was ecstatic when she read it.

So last night, after making a big pot of taco soup, we headed out the door to what seemed like it was going to be the most awkward night of our lives.  As we were driving, she called and asked if her sister could join us.  Of course!

So we drove to the heart of Pasadena and picked them up.  We got to our house and started talking over taco soup and Dr. Pepper.  It was amazing!

We told stories, shared heartaches, related to one another, and talked to them about what life is like as you get older (in a non-lecture-ish way!)  I played southern hospitality extraordinaire.  I sliced up a homemade cake and Josh brewed some coffee, and we talked until the girls had to be home at midnight.  One of their boyfriends even came for a while to hang out, too!

It was glorious.  Literally.

We were able to minister to them, even if it was only for 5 hours on a Monday night.  We fed them, loved on them, listened to them, gave our somewhat sagely advice, and most of all, shared stories about our church, things that God had done for us, and His love for His children.

At the end of the night, we were all in agreement that it would not be the last time we would get together.  We all had such a fun time.

After dropping them off, Josh and I had a long talk on the way home.  About how we are so glad that each other love people the way we do.  About how we were so glad we pushed through the fear of awkwardness and bit the bullet.  How we can not wait to be able to do things like that for a living.  How we want to be effective for the world’s teens without all the glitz and glamour (not to mention waste) the most youth groups have, but genuinely love people and preach the Gospel through our lives.

I love that God does great things when we heed to Him.  I love my husband for being so supportive of me when I am following the Lord’s direction and jumping right in as if he was the one who had heard God’s call to obedience.

I just love our life together.  And I can’t wait to see what God has planned for us in the future!

This morning, I awoke with my sweet husband kissing me goodbye for work and telling me how beautiful I look when I sleep.  I tend to disagree with him on this, knowing full well that a woman with her mouth hanging open, hair mussed, and dragon breath is not exactly…shall we say, cute?  Anyway, after groggily responding with a few sweet words myself, I looked at the clock and saw that my husband was running late.  Not by a lot, you see, but by a few minutes.  And despite that, he took his time and treasured me for just a moment before heading off to work.  THIS is a good man.  I’m not condoning being late by any stretch of the imagination, but what I am stressing is what Jesus commanded us to do in Philippians 2:

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:3-4

Granted, Joshua could have been in a rush and quickly kissed me goodbye and left, leaving me feeling less than loved (as I so often do to him when I am in a rush), but instead he took his time.  He met my emotional needs rather than concentrating on the fact that he would stroll into caffeine central a few minutes late.

Anyway, enough about how awesome my husband is.  I know some people out there think we are soooOOOOoooo mushy. (We are.  We know it, okay?!)

This brings me to my second thought of this oh-so-early morning.  It’s one thing to wake up to sweet words, but it’s another to wake up to a sweet tooth.   For some unknown reason, from the moment I woke up this morning, I wanted a donut.  Not just any donut, but a strawberry iced donut covered in sprinkles.  I had to have one.  My favorite.  So, I proceeded to get dressed in a less than fashionable outfit and drove to Shipley’s.

I got the the nearest store (there are 3 within a 15 minute drive), and got in queue at the drive thru.  And let’s just say it took a lot longer than I wanted it to take.  I was waiting in line for probably 10 minutes with only 2 cars ahead of me.  I started to think about how it was ridiculous that I was waiting that long, but not too far into those thoughts, I could hear the Holy Spirit correcting me.  My thoughts quickly turned to other countries where food is rationed and people stand in line for staples.  My thoughts turned to this donut and the fat deposits it would leave on my body.  My thoughts turned to countries where there is not enough food, let alone a donut shop open before the sun rises on every corner.  Let’s just say I shut my proverbial mouth right then and there.

Then, as I finally pulled up the window, the lady was less than friendly.  You know the type.  The no greeting, no smile, no welcoming tone, ask in monotone voice “what do you want” and then tell you rudely that they don’t have any sprinkled donuts, aloof kind of lady.

And as I was driving away with my strawberry iced (no sprinkles!) donut, I was thinking, “Geez lady, could you have been any less accommodating?”

Once again, the Holy Spirit took hold of my heart and corrected me.  I had no idea what kind of morning that lady was having.  I know nothing of her.  She could be going through a brutal divorce.  Her son could be hooked on drugs.  She could go home alone every day to a crappy apartment and no one to call family.   She could hate her life, her job, herself, me.  And yet I assumed that since I was paying 75 cents to get my sweet tooth satisfied, I deserved to be treated better.

But according to our Lord, we are to look out for the needs of others before we look out for our own self.  I am positive that the Lord is trying to teach me more on this (and perhaps it’s because I’ve been praying for God to teach me to be a Godly wife) because I can not be this coherent to think all this up on my own at 6 in the morning!

I am sitting at home at 11:30 on a Friday night.  Not only am I taking a break from cleaning, doing laundry, exercising a bit in between, contemplating doing this dishes, and resisting the urge to devulge myself in Blue Bell Banana Split ice cream, but I am also doing what I do almost every Friday night….waiting for my husband to get home from work.

I’ve been married now for almost 3 months.  It has been amazing, and marriage is all that I hoped it would be…and it’s some things I didn’t exactly…ahem…hope for.

Usually when people think of newlyweds, I suppose they think of lazy Saturday mornings, bubble fights while washing dishes together, random and crazy sexcapades, the very few and far between arguments, etc.  I suppose this is what I thought it would be like to an extent, but I am a realist (and somewhat of a pessimist, though I hate to admit that), so I knew it would be a lot more boring stuff…farting in bed, scooping hair out of the shower, adjusting to sharing EVERYTHING.

But never, never in my life did I imagine my marriage would entail having very little time with my husband.  Times are hard, and our economy is crashing, forcing me to work 50+ hours a week at least just to scrape by.  It’s been impossible to find a decent job for me.  Josh spends his days in school and at work.  Sometimes we don’t see each other from 7am to 1am (yes, that’s 18 hours), and then our time together involves sawing logs.

Every once in a while we’ll get a few hours where our schedules gel, and we’ll get that oh-so-treasured time together that we can really engage, learn about what God is teaching us, talk about the future, and cook a meal together. I wait days, and sometimes over a week for time like this, and I would lose precious sleep after a 12 hour work day just to sit and be with my husband.

I know that the Lord is teaching me to trust Him in these times.  I know that He’s teaching me what it means to rely on Him for the grace to get through one more day, and to understand that He will provide for us…even when we are in the red after paying our bills.  And I’m counting on Him to keep that spark in our marriage that He so marvelously gave to us.

I’m not sure what lies ahead in the future, but I know that I’ll have my husband and my Lover by my side the whole time, and that makes the hard times totally worth it.

Today, I spent a lot of the day people watching.  It’s one of my favorite past times, mostly because you can do it anywhere for any length of time and it’s entertaining either way.

Josh and I were at Starbucks (big surprise, I know!) today, and I found myself watching a man and a woman talking about who knows what.   The man was married, as was obvious by the ring on his left hand.  The woman’s hand was shielded by a purse and a cup of coffee, so I’m not sure if she was married, and if she was, if it was to this man.  But it was interesting watching their body language…seeing her look off in the distance as she finished a sentence that maybe made her feel embarrassed…watching him lean in closer as he was telling a story, etc.

Watching people interact is just so interesting to me, and reading people’s faces is the best part.  The longer I know a person, the more I can tell what they’re thinking by watching their face.  Josh gets this one “serious” face when he’s thinking about how to word something the right way, so that tells me to be patient and just wait til he gets his thoughts formulated enough to express what he’s thinking.  My sister makes this one face when she’s feeling self-conscious.  And this one little boy at Target tonight made a face at me that said, “I’m 7 years old, and I want you to think I’m awesome, because I think I am.”

I think it’s just really neat and awe-inspiring the way that God made humans such complex creatures.   I love that we have emotions and feelings and thoughts that go beyond what words can say.  Sure, that can be frustrating sometimes, but it’s glorious nonetheless.

Take some time to people watch.  It will make you appreciate life and Jesus for making it so good!

Anyone else know that song?

Anyway, I’m sick.  Booboo.

I’ll spare you the details, but the past few days have not been fun.

However, in an odd way, I like being sick.  It gives me a chance to slow down and really listen to the Lord.  After Joel’s sermon on Sunday, I realized a few things about my life in regards to the Bible lately.  It’s true that in the past, I was super diligent about reading the Word.  I was committed to studying, memorizing, and meditating on Scripture.  But lately, it hasn’t been the case.

Joel talked about how the Bible judges us, and not the other way around.  We can’t judge the Bible because it’s alive and active.  There’s nothing about it that changes because of us, but rather, we are changed because of it.  Sometimes the Bible boggles my brain.  Written language is something that I have always been thankful for and amazed by.  Just think…it only takes a pen and paper for someone to communicate an idea or thought that can change everything.  Words are so powerful.  And perhaps that is why God chose to communicate with us through a book.  Either way, I’m very thankful for it, and at the same time, overwhelmed by it.

You would think with my sentiments towards the Bible that I would spend hours a day unveiling its mysteries  and grueling over questions that I have.  But no.  I have been lacking lately in my love for the Scriputres, and try as I may, the discipline of reading has been really hard for me in the past few months, and I want to change that.  I really do.

So, Josh and I started a Bible study over Galatians this week, and I’m hoping that this will spark my interest a little bit more…well…that and praying diligently that God will give me a strong desire for His Word.

Anyone else been in a dry spell like this?  I know I’m not alone…

And also, we’re looking for a good commentary or book over Galatians, so if anyone has any suggestions, we’d much appreciate it.

I wrote this a little over a year ago. Sure, the rhyming may be cheesy, but I found it on my computer, and when I read it, I couldn’t help but thank Jesus for bringing me out of such immense chaos.

Daddy never says he loves her
Save the times she climbs that ladder
Mama cries to herself in bed
While flowery sheets cover her head.

His one last breath seeps out his lungs
And a phone calls tells her he is done
She boards a plane that’s set to fly
Not a single tear falls from her eyes.

A wayward glance meant all in fun
Leads to the words “Don’t tell anyone”
Her fear floats thinly in the air
He brushes his fingers through her hair

Wire inside concrete borders
Rain splashed tires and money hoarders
Make her think of better places
All she needs is familiar faces

Spiritual songs pierce through her walls
And she her Father lovingly calls
Singing songs with grace and victory
She longs for love and finds it’s He.

If anyone knows me well enough, they would know that my brain is constantly on overdrive.  From thoughts on various tasks I have to accomplish during the day to pondering the hypothetical existence of another universe, I’m constantly subjected to the series of cogs spinning around in my head.  What’s more, I’ve been learning much about how limited all my thoughts really are when trying to understand the Cross.

I’ve been reading through Mahaney’s book still, and in it, he said one of the best ways to battle pride is to look to the Cross.  He quoted Martin-Lloyd Jones, one of my friend Jessica’s crushes.

There is only one thing I know of that crushes me to the ground and humiliates me to the dust, and that is to look to the Son of God, and especially contemplate the cross.

To be completely honest, there are days when I think about the Cross, and I’m convinced that I don’t understand it at all.  It’s too much for my brain to wrap around.  I think about Christ’s suffering a lot, since I know that His death should be mine.  But, I can’t really comprehend what that suffering must have felt like.  What was it like to bear the sin of the world?  How did it feel to have God, whom Christ was in the most intimate union with, turn His face from Him?  (Those words are confusing me, too.  His face from Him?  God turned His face from Himself.  How does that work?!)  What was it like to be beaten and scourged and mocked?  How misunderstood by his friends and family did He feel?  What was it like looking at His mother as he was dying?

All of these questions make it difficult for me to know how exactly to view the Cross.  But one thing I do know is that if the magnitude of it causes me to think so much, and understand so little, there is every reason in the world for it to humble me, especially since it is ONLY because of the Cross that I have the ability to know the God of the universe.

So, if anyone knows of any good books or has any words of wisdom to offer about all of this, please feel free to add your input.  It would be much appreciated.

My good friend Jessica AKA Ca-Ca tagged me, so here it goes:

Seven random facts about yours truly:

1.  I am eating Ritz crackers and peanut butter as I type.  And I don’t have a drink.  Boo to no drink.

2.  I name everything.  My car is Paco.  My MacBook is Stuart (or Stewie).  And today, a little bug crawling on my arm was affectionately called Charlie.

3.  I am good at calculating numbers in my head.  Quiz me some time!

4.  I enjoy reading Stephen King novels, but it’s been a little while since I’ve had the time.  The last one I read was Rose Madder.

5.  I sometimes squeak when I laugh.  Get me laughing hard enough, and it’s uncontrollable.

6.  I am secretly in a Journey cover band with some “friends”.

7.  I think Bill Haverchuck from Freaks and Geeks is amazingly attractive.

On a less serious note:

There are some days that I wish I was young again. Granted, some people may think that 25 is young, but this is the oldest I’ve ever been, so it doesn’t feel young to me!

Last night was one in which I returned to my days of being say…16 again. Daniel, Tyler, Amanda, and I went to Kemah to ride the roller coaster. Now, I’ll admit that I’ve thought since it was finished that it was going to be lame. But let me tell you, my neck has never been this sore from a ride before. (Who knows? Perhaps I am getting old!) After the first ride, my stomach hurt from laughing so hard. Between the maybe 70 mph drops and Tyler screaming behind me, my abs were given a good work out. So, naturally, we rode it two more times, switching seating buddies so that we all got to ride with each other once. I must admit, being so short is hard when riding next to a tall person. My head slammed in to both Tyler and Daniel’s shoulders a bunch of times. Yikes!

And it’s refreshing to have friends that will act silly right along with me. While walking down the boardwalk, “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer came on. So naturally, Daniel and I HAD to skip down the boardwalk holding hands. It’s the only logical thing to do in such a situation.

Then, me and my crazy Asian friend decided to play in the fountain. After running through it several times and narrowly missing getting soaked, Daniel dragged me out and pushed me into a couple of streams. Of course, I had to get my revenge. After convincing Daniel to let me take him out there and do the same, we walked out onto the fountain. Daniel insisted that if he were to stand over the hole, awaiting the cold burst to hit him, I had to join him.

As we were looking down on the ground waiting, Daniel said “Oh my gosh, it’s going to hit you right in the face–”. That was when the stream of water not only missed my face, but hit Daniel square in his, sending his long, flowing hair flying in all directions. I nearly fell over from laughing so hard.

Needless to say, I’ve had a headache for the past 24 hours, and my neck is in serious need of a deep tissue massage. But last night was well needed, and I’m so glad to have spent it with friends that I treasure.