when the land is not flowing with milk and honey.

my friend kelly has been posting words of truth on her blog.  she’s posting for 31 days this month and has been writing mostly about being in the wilderness.  she’s been camped out in exodus for the last week and so i’ve been thinking about my own wilderness season.  i can relate to most of what she’s saying about feeling lonely, the pain and practice of waiting and what it feels like when god takes you the long way around.  except here’s the problem.  i feel like i’m not supposed to feel any of those things because i have apparently entered my proverbial promised land.

in the months leading up to my move i had a perfect picture of what life would be like here.  i wasn’t completely naive to the fact that it would still be transition and there would be bits that would feel hard.  but the job.  the job was going to be everything i’d ever hoped for.  life would be good.  students would be in and out of my apartment constantly, my staff would always want to be together.  we’d drink coffee and talk about the deep things of our hearts for hours on end.  i’d be the cool one who took trips to fro yo at midnight and retold war stories from my time abroad.  i’d find friends easily, join a small group, help hold babies on sunday mornings.  ministry would be vast and easy.  the sun and would shine, the birds would chirp and i’d finally see the abundance i’ve been claiming.

i expected to bring the glory clouds and manna from the wilderness with me to the promised land.

instead, i live alone and miss having roommates desperately.  ministry looks like fire drills and discipline meetings and 80s skate nights.  most of my staff doesn’t like coffee and we have not once traipsed about town for fro yo.  i send emails and plan meetings and give feedback.  i’ve traded the manna for caf food and the glory cloud for a permanent indention on  my couch.  i spend most evenings alone and watch more netflix than i care to admit.

i like my job.  i am grateful for it.  but life looks different.  outside of leslie knope and my co-workers [who i am beyond thankful for] i don’t really have friends.  i’ve struggled to find new community.  the boxes are all unpacked and my apartment is decorated but i don’t always feel settled.

when the israelites crossed the jordan into the promised land they rested for a hot minute, thanked the lord for bringing them so far and set remembrance stones for what he’d done.  then they set up camp and looked at the walls of jericho.  the walls they’d have to go tear down.  the walls they’d have to march around until they finally fell.

they were in the promised land but they still had to fight for the inheritance of it.  

no one ever told me this part of the story.  i had no idea what i was getting myself into.  and instead of marching around my own walls with belief that they will indeed crumble i’ve been camped out, staring at them; looking backwards to the wilderness.  i’ve been missing the manna and glory clouds and people i was wandering with.  the truth is, i don’t want to fight for anything anymore.  i don’t even want to acknowledge walls are in front of me, let alone march around them and believe they’ll fall.  i just want the milk and honey to flow.  i just want to pitch my tent, hang up my hammock and enjoy.

but that is not the option.

the option is to, one more time, face the thing in front of me.  the walls of loneliness, bitterness, wondering and second guessing.  the walls of discontentment and negativity.  the walls of what ifs and if onlys.

my jericho walls are not an indication of defeat, but a chance for the lord to prove himself faithful again. 

so i’m standing up.  i’m getting out of the camp i’ve stayed in and moving towards the land that has already been given but has yet to be won.

i’m glad to be here.

to say the past few weeks have been busy would be an incredible understatement.  we sure did go from zero to a million miles a minute in no time.  three weeks ago the student development staff drove to north carolina for a few days of working, getting to know each other, and casting some vision over this year.  i’ve been on a lot of work retreats.  this one was definitely at the top of my list.  when we got home, it was officially go time.  we had a few days of prep before the RA’s came which looked a lot like running around an office, making copies of different things, talking through schedules, planning sessions, ordering food, and so on.

and then they came.

all nine of my girls made it to campus and training began.  sessions, hang out time, praying, planning, decorating, more sessions.  somewhere in all of it we started bonding and i fell in love with each of them.  they’re a funny little crew.  but they’re my funny little crew.  and i’m obsessed.

i got three hours of sleep friday night. i was up at 4:30 am to put on my best professional face, cook breakfast, and get a group of fifty plus staff and volunteers motivated to welcome in hundreds of new students by filling out paper work and carrying their stuff.  in the rain.  mostly i made coffee, smiled, shook hands, hugged crying mommas and ran from floor to floor making sure all was well.  and it was.  no major issues.  no angry parents.  no day one roommate drama.

there is a god and he does love me.

classes started today and the campus is bursting with people.  i’m often mistaken for a lost freshman.  i used it to my advantage to get a free cup and ice cream last night.  i’m beat.  but my heart is full.  i’m still navigating the balance of this work here/live here/play here life.  i still need friends off campus.  but i’m thankful.

i’m thankful for a staff who loves me and supports me and works hard.  i’m thankful for co workers who are quickly becoming dear friends.  for an extra hour of sleep because my office hours don’t start until monday.  for the convenience of walking to the caf when i’m too tired to cook.  i’m thankful for the 262 women who looked at me tonight as we gathered as a community for the first time.  for the chance to pray blessing over them.  i’m thankful for another job in which i get to spend time worshipping and praying and believing.  i’m thankful for trips that are planned and friends who call to check in, just because. i’m thankful that, though it feels lacking at times, this life is full.  my life is full.

this is good.  i’m glad to be here.

and now i’m going to catch up on some sleep.

coming upon the seams.

i guess not all transitions can remain seamless forever.  if the seasons of our lives are patches, the quilt is woven together by many a seam.  seams that are made of heartache and tears and some kind of deep trust we’re not sure where exactly it comes from.  my quilt has lots of seams and a frayed edge or two.  it’s been fashioned with a lot of “whys” a few “are you kidding me’s” and i suppose some “yes’s” along the way.

i said yes to south carolina because i wanted to.  it is absolutely the promised land i [along with faithful friends and family] have waited for, prayed for, hoped and believed for.  i want to be here.  i want to do this.  i am thrilled beyond measure about the opportunity.

the transition felt relatively easy.  i packed, movers came, we drove eighty miles north and in a few hours i was mostly settled.  i was greeted with banners and gifts and a dozen people to help carry boxes.  i’ve never felt so welcomed into a new place.  i shed a few tears when they left, but mostly i was fine.  i enjoyed the few days of down time romping around town and catching up on my hulu.  i started working on monday morning and could hardly sleep the night before.  this.  this is what i have waited for.  i had lunch with new co-workers and began making plans for my staff that comes in a few weeks.

and then. i ran smack dab into a seam.  the frayed edge.

i started missing my friends.  i felt out of place.  lonely.  the job started to seem overwhelming, at best.  i lasted about nine days before the flood gates opened.  it was therapeutic if nothing else.  fifteen minutes of words spilling out.  things i didn’t even realize were bothering me until it all came out.

what if i don’t fit here?  what if they don’t like me?  i’m not as educated, qualified, etc. as they are.  i’m so thankful for this, i don’t want to feel this way.  why is this happening?  i feel like i’m having re-entry all over again.  and a few more um, slightly dramatic things, that i know aren’t true – but came out in the moment.

i thought about fleeing to atlanta.  to people who know and understand.  people i don’t have to try with.  but then i remembered how i used to have to try with them.  i tried really hard, actually.  and so instead of jumping in my car i invited new friends for dinner.  i cooked and set the table and enjoyed myself more than i have since i have been here.  i felt a little more in the right place.  a little more like myself.

so, i found some seams.  for a little bit, the excitement and gratitude and goodness was clouded by the hard.  the grieving of one thing and the wondering of another got the better of me.  i’m okay with that.  because things get shaken.  but i don’t stand in my shaken-ness.  i stand in steadiness.

and today, i’m womping around my apartment, standing on my couch and declaring greatness over this season.  because deep down, it’s what i believe.  i know it’s what’s really coming.  goodness and greatness exist in this place.  however unsteadily, i’m reaching out and grabbing them.  i am also drinking a lot of coffee, writing letters to my best friends, and contemplating getting out of my pajamas.  happy saturday.

thank you for all of your love, prayers and support during this transition. i am so thankful to be surrounded by such incredible people all over the place.  south carolina is beautiful – you’re welcome here any time.

setting the table.

i’ve been away from home for several years now.  i’m pretty much on the twice a year rotation for visits.  so it shouldn’t shock anyone that life kind of moves on without me for the fifty weeks that i am not around.  parties are had, birthdays are celebrated and grandpa grills burgers just because.  it never fails that whenever the time rolls around for me to come home i’ll be on the phone with my grandma and she’ll be talking about an upcoming event, one i’ll actually be around for.  so i’ll say, “don’t forget – i’m coming home.”  it’s my implied “save a place for me.”

i don’t have to say it.  there’s always a place for me.  there’s always room at the table.  and lord knows there is always plenty of food.

Imagei’ve been invited to sit around many tables in my life.  from an early age i’ve always found myself in adopted families or with incredible groups of friends.  young life.  college.  the world race.  and now, georgia.  in this past season i’ve found myself a table to sit at.  i’ve been invited into something unique and special and sweet.  it’s been laced with tears and disappointments but it’s a table i’ve laughed at, screamed at, apologized and grew up at.  it’s one in which i’ve found myself celebrating, grieving, wishing, wondering, and praying.  i’ve been blessed, challenged, and sent out around this table.  i’ve dined with fancy napkins and plastic cups alike.  people have come in and out for different reasons or time, myself included.  but the table of grace, community, friendship and life exists here.  it’s a place i want to stay.

but i know it’s time to set my own table.  it’s time to be the creator of the space that invites people in, offers rest and life and encouragement and challenge.  it’s my turn to wash the napkins, dust off the china and get to work.  i’ve been partaking of a table for so long that this new task can, at moments, seem overwhelming.

but then i remember my place at the table doesn’t go away because i’m eighty miles further up the road.

around this time last year i was trying to make a decision about whether or not to go overseas for another season.  i was hot and sweaty running around at training camp.  my mind was spinning because it was not the plan.  i picked up the phone and through tears i asked for a blessing.  i needed to ask “if i do this – will you save a place for me?”  and through tears on the other end, i got exactly what i knew i would.  i don’t need to ask this time around.  partly because there is no conflict with this decision, but mostly because i know i have it without asking.

life is about to look different.  it’s something i’m not entirely sure that i am ready for.  but i know it’s right.  so i’m packing boxes and renting trucks and soaking up every minute with these people that i can.  i’m taking deep breaths and allowing my eyes to get wet.  i’m talking with people who i haven’t met but are soon to become new friends.  people who will come around a new table.  i’m pulling out every good thing i have to offer and preparing the table that is sure to be flooded in the coming weeks and months.

get ready, south carolina.  we are about to have one hell of a dinner party.

vending machine jesus.

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put your dollar in.  push e16.  get your snickers. simple enough.

unless it gets stuck on those revolving metal circles.  in which case you will probably try to shake the thing and curse it when the snickers is still hanging there.  you’ll either sacrifice another dollar in an effort to get your prize  or you’ll walk away frustrated, angry and swearing off both candy bars and vending machines.  forever.  because they are from the devil.  am i right?

today is good friday.

 

i sat down and read the story of the crucifixion this morning.  because good christians should do such a thing on days like today.  i would like to tell you that my heart was overflowing with thankfulness and i am completely undone by how much jesus has done for me and that i feel the swelling hope that ‘sunday is coming’ and everything that means for my salvation and for my life.

but none of that happened.  instead.  i realized i treat jesus like a vending machine.

i worship and praise and read my bible and go to the women’s group.  and then i make my request.  e16, if you would, jesus.  i’ll take that perfect job, the healing i’ve been asking for, the husband and 2.5 kids.  i’ll take the provision, the relationships, the hope and peace.  could i please have the miracle.  e16 jesus.  i don’t think it’s too much to ask for.  afterall, i just put my dollar in.  and you know, that dollar was quite a sacrifice.  so if you could please oblige with the e16 that’d be great.

but then.  the e16 doesn’t come.  and i spiral into disappointment and rejection and frustration because of course the machine would break on me.  today of all days.  because the world hates me and i will never eat another candy bar as long as i live and i hate vending machines.  they must be from the devil.

and then i take a nap and have a cup of coffee and give the vending machine another go at it.  sometimes it spits out what i’m asking for.  it’s usually pretty good to me.

so, here’s the thing that struck me today.

i hate that i still think and act this way.  i don’t want to treat jesus like a vending machine.  i desperately want the presence of the machine to be enough.  whether it ever delivers an e16 or not.  i want to be a woman who is thankful and content with the presence.  so for as much as he has already done and given, today i’m asking for more.  i’m asking for more softening of my still resistant heart.  because even that has to be an act of grace.  a labor of love.

would my heart and my life be one that puts in the dollar without any expectation of something in return.

gratitude lately.

lately, i’ve been really thankful for :

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free entertainment [thanks, bo] and a chance to be famous for a minute.

road trips with friends that give room for catching up and worshipping like fools again. for small reminders that he is indeed faithful.  for provision that is beyond what i expected and the promise of abundance.  for snapchat declarations that my kids in africa send me.  for sunshine and the warmer weather.

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and for random reasons to celebrate.  [read : eat cake] happy international women’s day!

gratitude lately.

i read a lot of blogs.  i know it’s kind of geeky but i look forward to my google reader being full and having lots of things to browse.  one of the bloggers i follow pretty religiously does a series on gratitude.  she posts about things she’s thankful for every so often.  and i like it.  so i’m stealing the idea.

lately, i’ve been thankful for :

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creative provision that comes in the form of jury duty checks and gift cards i’d forgotten about.

for road trips with friends and new sounds to worship to.

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i’m thankful for snap chats.

and skype calls with favorites [especially when african babies are also included]

i’m thankful for hot tea and rainy days.  for friends that live upstairs.  for delicious dinners and facetimes with family.  i’m thankful for a car that drives and naps in my cozy bed.

for potential and possibility and for things on the horizon.