The Obedient

I think at this point of following my blog you have recognized that my biggest struggle in life is fear. I have always been a fraidy cat but only in the past 10 years has it really tried to reign in my life.  You may have also read about the Lord trying to break me from that fear here and maybe here. But this weekend the Lord gave me a really cool picture about it. And I feel more broken from the chains of fear than I have ever felt.

At the beginning of the Created for Care retreat they asked us to ask the Lord what he would show us that weekend. And when we closed our eyes to pray the two things that popped in my head right away was 1) fears and then 2) the breakup of my family. Well fears made sense its what I am always praying about. Break my fears. Break my fear of flying. Take away my anxiety Lord.

But the family breakup thing... Gosh. My parents divorced like 12 years ago when I was 19. Why would that come up now? Yes it is a constant struggle in my life to feel torn between them, but its been a while and I thought I had handled this. So as soon as it came in my head I remember thinking "really?" and then as quick as it came it left and I focused on dealing with my fears.

After the Friday night talk my friends and I went to talk to the speaker Dr Susan Hillis about some things she had said and because my russian born biffle wanted to compliment her russian fluency. Dr Hillis at some point was explaining something to my other biffle and at one point said something that echoed in my ears like someone had bullhorned it. If I am being honest it is still bouncing around the walls of my ears. Dr Hillis said "its not about courage. its about obedience." Whoaaa. My whole world stopped at that sentence and I started playing it around over and over and over. More on this later....

Well one thing you should know about me is that certain things are not comfortable to me. I was raised in a Roman Catholic family and church. Since becoming a follower of Christ I have experienced many things and my eyes have been open in many ways to the reality of a present living Christ. But I am an introvert and a conservative in many ways. So with the exception of an intervening peace from Christ I am rarely comfortable with the more charismatic side of the faith. Also with praying with strangers. I can pray unceasing in my heart, in my room, with my family and friends. But it is such an intimate thing to me that praying with a perfect stranger tends to be awkward to me. Its as if having a stranger cuddle with my husband and I. Awkward right? I do it when I have to but always avoid it. Also, forced quiet time in the company of others equally awkward for me. Real creative things like painting and crafty things as a communication with God also not natural to me. I can sit in front of a computer and program a web application feeling that the Lord is guiding my fingers and that is natural to me, but thats because that is my gift and its naturally how He made me to be. I am an awkward person in general so most things with strangers are not easy for me. Stranger danger you know? hehe

Anyhow - knowing that about me would explain why when they said we were going to have a "date with God" at the retreat I was less than ecstatic. I figured it would be some highly charismatic group prayer time that would make me feel on the spot and awkward and forced. When my biffles and I walked into the room (late to make it worse when they were already talking) it was very much the case. About 50+ women crammed in sitting on the floor and stations around the room for quiet prayer, prayer with someone (stranger danger), painting, clay, drawing, etc. My heart raced in anxiety of what we would need to do and how uncomfortable it would be for me. But that was only for a moment.

They explained the stations and rotations and encouraged us each to visit each station. So my first plan was to quickly make my way through the room and maybe even duck out early if that wasnt awkward. Both of my biffles headed to where their heart led them and I started at what I considered the least awkward - quiet time. There was a tent set up with soft worship music playing meant for quiet time. I sat down and started praying.

Immediately the Lord grabbed my heart and drew me in. He started to explain things in my heart that I had never put together before. It was like a story unraveling in my heart. When you are young you aren't afraid. You have loving parents that you trust and you do what they say. If you trust your parents you are obedient to them. And when they tell you to get on a plane you just do it knowing that they will protect you and wouldn't have you do anything dangerous. The Lord showed me that as a child I had been obedient to my parents and didn't need to be brave, just obedient. Then He showed me that when my parents divorced and the family split I felt like I had no home, no family, no stability, and noone to lean on. I felt like an orphan. My parents hadn't gone anywhere but things were different. I saw broken hurting people that I felt needed my support not my burdens. This was the year that I developed panic disorder, high anxiety, and stopped doing things that scared me. This was also the last year I got on a plane.

The Lord showed me this and how I had trouble submitting to my parents that I now saw in a new light. Not that I was disobedient to them (I lived on my own at this point) but that I no longer looked to them for where to step next because I did not agree with decisions they had made. Then it was like I was jerked awake and had trouble getting back to this place with Him to see how I fix it. But knowing how Jesus Christ taught in the gospels I know that sometimes the obvious answers are the obvious answers. The night before Dr Hillis had proclaimed that I don't actually need to be brave I just need to be obedient to the Lord. And here the Lord has showed me where that disconnect between obedience and fear happened before. So I am praying the prayer for obedience instead of courage now. And I am hoping this leads me to where the Lord would have me.

Keep my struggles with fear (apparently obedience) in your prayers and they will carry me across the oceans. thank you.

I am putting my retreat nametag into my memorial box :)

The Storming of Ninevah

I love the book of Jonah. I love the idea of the whale and the boy. I love the prayers. I love the inspiration and courage. I love the fear and rebellion. I don't really care if the fish was a fish or a whale. I don't really care if it was an actual historical event or just a story to explain a concept. I just love the heck out of it.

 A part of me All of me really identifies with Jonah. Sometimes when God comes a calling I want to crawl under a rock and stick my fingers in my ears and sing out loud "la la la la la la la - I cant hear you". Sometimes I want to turn the radio up real loud and pretend I didn't hear him. Sometimes I want to use logic to convince myself why what He wants couldn't really be what is best for me. And sometimes, just sometimes, I want to hop on a boat and go in the other direction. I think most people probably feel this way sometimes. I know for me - my enemy is fear. Fear is what tries to yank me away from God's best for me. Fear of man. Fear of fear. Fear of possibilities. Fear of loneliness. Fear of God.

For a long time I wasn't just a tourist under that rock - I lived there. I was the rock girl. I didn't care that there wasn't any sun there - because the sun was too bright. I stayed under that rock and stuck my fingers in my ears and let fear take complete control of my steps. I am not saying I was happy under that rock, but it was my rock and it was comfortable.

Somewhere after my first missions trip fear started to lose grip on me. The love of Christ started to burn it away. I suddenly became filled with a new courage. I had this picture in my head. It was me being catapulted off the tongue of a whale, like a slingshot almost, flying in a somersault with my fist raised - storming Ninevah. I didn't want to run and hide from the word Ninevah anymore. I wanted to storm Ninevah. I wanted to raise my fist in triumph and speak forth the word of God.

I have told you about my bff anna and how we are tight. We also like to do projects together. We have done most things, from modgepodge to building homemade didgerydoos, to electrical diy projects and pranks.... paintings, clay... sewing... everything. Now one of the things we did at one time was we made some techno worship songs, and named ourselves "storming ninevah". They are kind of lame - anna is amazing but i am not. If you have a jrock account you can listen to them here http://www.jrockboom.com/userinfo.php?user=stormingninevah

So when fear starts to creep up and put its hands around my throat, I try to think about Storming Ninevah. Because as that story showed us, and as experience has shown me, God will do the impossible, all we have to do is show up.

I am putting a picture of jonah and the whale into my memorial box :)

  

The Tip

Memorial Box Monday Edition

So for a period of time I was working for a cable provider as a field technician and really struggling to pay my way. It seemed as if every single week I would run out of money a couple days before pay day and really have to get creative. I would find ways to make groceries stretch, I would find ways to make the bills get paid a month early so that when I was late I was never really late, but could go a couple extra days since I was in actuality a month ahead. I would do things like this because I was in a situation where that was my only choice. Perhaps my eyes were bigger than my wallet as far as choosing housing and all, but for whatever the reason I was low on dough in those days.

So, God used these times to show me in mighty ways how tangible and real He was. I remember many times where I did not have money for gas to get home from work and God would just bring it out of thin air. I would be in my truck driving around and praying. "Please God - help me make my gas last for just one more day". Then I would moments later walk into a client who would hand me just enough money to put gas in my car as a tip. Now, tips were not the norm in my job. Sometimes you would go months without a tip. And I have to say I have never thought to tip the cable man when he came to my house. But every now again, without rhyme or reason, a client would shove money in my hand/pocket/toolbag and insist that I take it. The part that made it so very beautiful to me was when I hadn't had a tip in months, and not necessarily asking for it, just praying God would find a way to provide, and out of nowhere a tip of $10 or $20 to go into my gas tank and get me home and back to work the next day.

God made sure He did this in very obvious ways to me. And often now people think I am insensitive and careless about money. And perhaps sometimes I am (thank the Lord I have a husband who is the exact opposite with money), but it is just something the Lord has taught me not to worry about. The God of the universe has the ability to provide more money than I need, and He has proven to me that he will always take care of me much more than I deserve. So on this memorial box monday I want to make sure that I remember all those times God took care of the little things for me.

²⁵"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ²⁷Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life^[b]? - Matthew 6

This week I am putting a bean in my memorial box. Because God was my provider of gas!

  

The Mountain

Memorial Box Monday Edition

I have always struggled with irrational fears. One of my fears has been of heights. When I heard my first mission trip working with our youth ministry would be in the mountains fear started to take root in me. I pushed it down and ignored it and continued planning. Driving up in one of the two vans, with Arlene behind the wheel, I knitted furiously, chugged chamomile, and tried to ignore my surroundings by watching movies on my laptop. At one point Arlene and the other leaders prayed for me at a gas station, asking for the peace that transcends all understanding.

After arriving we got busy and my fear started to subside a little as I got used to my surroundings. The next day after we finished our day's activities we were told we would be taken up to the top of the mountain to go swim in the waterfalls for bathing. I instantly pictured scary narrow roads almost completely vertical. We stopped at a local museum on the way and while we walked around my fear started to build. I remember walking up to a youth (my friend's son, who knew about my fears) and saying "pray for me im so scared" and he said "you dont have to be afraid, we'll protect you" and gave me a hug. This was enough to get me back in the car and head up the mountain.

While it wasn't quite the scary road I had pictured, the roads were indeed narrow, drastically curvy, and when you looked out the outside window it was straight down into rapids. We were also told stories of multiple cars going over the side, as the local missions director (G) raced around the corners. Then when we got there we had to climb down this cliff to get to the waterfalls where we would bathe. I am sure it took me like 10 times as long as anyone else to climb down and I was probably a mess by the time we left that day.

I struggled through the week but spent much time in prayer that kept me going. A couple days later we were driving back with the missions director from somewhere. He said to me "Kim - I don't know why but everytime I see you I picture a short bus." I chuckled thinking it was a joke and then immediately lost my breath and tears instantly came to my eyes. It was as if I had been sucker punched. I covered it well and no one seemed to notice the flood of emotion that came to me.

When G said that to me I got a picture in my head of the short bus I used to ride. Now before you start making jokes at my expense, I went to a private school, and they purchased old buses no longer used by public schools. They had purchased a short bus to pick up those of us kids who lived on the islands and called it the island bus. That was the bus of my nightmares. I asked G what he meant by that, and his response was somewhere around "do you think God is trying to tell you something about it? If so pray and ask Him to show you" I didn't need to ask though, I knew what it was about.

When we got back I went off to a quiet place on the property and prayed. I knew God was trying to tell me something about that time in my life. I was not a Christian on that bus, and I was very unhappy. I had struggles of my own in those years and the kids on that bus seemed to pick up on that and would tease me. This one boy in particular, Jamie, would pick and pick and pick until I started to cry and then they would ignore me. No one protected me. No one stuck up for me. I tried everything. I tried ignoring him. I tried giving it back to him. I tried joking it off. I eventually gave up and would just sit there until I cried. Every day for an hour there and an hour home and many many tears. I don't even remember all that he would make fun of me about. Whether it was my name, my height, or made up things. I remember at one time he started saying I was homosexual, and teased me for that. It was a very very sad time in my life. I started to hate my life, and school, and those around me who didn't stand up for me. 

My poor little sister probably got most of my aggression because I think I blamed her in some ways for not sticking up for me, or because I was jealous of her having friends. I seem to recall going home after that bus ride and picking on her, teasing her for her weight problem or anything I could think of. Like I said - I wasn't a very nice person back then. It makes me cry now to even think that I could do that. It was certainly not her fault that someone picked on me. She was younger, and as her older sister who wasnt very nice to her I can't imagine her putting herself at risk with Jamie to stick up for me. Anyhow... back to the story.

When I prayed on the side of this mountain in Tennessee asking God to show me what it is about this short bus experience that He was trying to share with me. I heard God speaking into my heart very clearly that he was there with me even then and that it broke his heart for me to hurt like I did then. That was perhaps the most alone I had ever felt in my life. The idea that I was possibly not alone hit me like a train. The fact that I didn't acknowledge him as God at that time, but he was there loving me and waiting for me and caring about me when I felt no one cared for me, yep it hit me like a train. That kind of love that I didn't feel like I was getting - in the hardest time in my life, was there and being offered by the king of the universe, even then. This intense feeling of how much the Lord loved me even before I loved him overwhelmed me on a mountaintop in eastern Tennessee.

The love was so overpowering that the fear that had crippled me the first couple of days of this 10 day missions trip to Appalachia was immeasurable. I remember practically flying the rest of the week, and even for months afterwards. I remember running down that cliff to the waterfall the very next day, the same cliff that had paralyzed me before. I remember actually driving one of the vans down those curvy roads laughing and singing along with the radio. I remember jumping off the rocks by the waterfalls and sliding down the natural slides with my friend, Arlene. The love that the Lord showed me that He had for me was so intense it took over every bit of fear.

this is actually a picture of me jumping into the water that week - graceful I am not

I had long heard the scriptures about the love that conquers all fear, and the peace that transcends all understanding, but never experienced it in such an intense way. I had grabbed a couple of the rocks on that mountain in TN and stuck them in my pocket. I have kept them to remember that Christ is my rock, and His love conquers my fear. That Christ will stand up for me, love me, and protect me, even when no one else will. So today I am putting one of these rocks into my memorial box!

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.

2 Timothy 1:7