Repost: Journal Entry

Journal Entry January 24th, 2010
Originally Posted January 25th, 2010

It is 5:00am. For hours I have tossed and turned, searching for relief from my pain. I find none.

I detest, I loathe my body. This is strong language, yet it is the secret that I carry of abhorring my very being. Fighting bitterness over disappointment and despair of a body turned against me. It rebels. I have little control. What hope is there? What reason to push on and fight for another day?

At 5am (as I wait for dawn after a painfully slow night) it is difficult to see any. Yet I must go on. I must fight. I must wage war against my flesh. I refuse to let me body win. I refuse to be captive to it. I refuse to let it suck all the joy from my life.

Dualism. I am more than simply a physical being. I have a soul that can never die. While my body languishes away, my soul can be filled aplenty as it gorges on God's grace and faithfulness.

Journal Entry October 25th, 2011

Disclaimer:  You might not understand this post.  I'm not asking you to.  :) 


"Talk to me," he says.

The words don't come.

But the tears do.

My heart and my bathtub are full.  There are words I wish to say.  And yet, I can't.

He takes my hand.  And the tears come again, for a new reason.  This man, this husband of mine is infinitely patient and kind.  In the words of another, "he is more patient with me than I am with myself."

I retreat again into my journal and my books and my Bible.  He stays near, but gives me the space to simply be.  I look over.  He sits at the kitchen table with his Bible open, seemingly unaware that I'm watching him.  My eyes go back to my papers.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him glance up to check on me.  We sit silently.  Each of us half-engaged in our books; each pretending that we don't realize the other one watching.  It's a delusional game.

The gulf between us seems oh-so-wide.  It's not anger or frustration.  We didn't get into a fight.  We're just learning what it means to co-exist.  And learning that God is working on that other person so we need to step back and let Him work.  That's hard.

I bridge our emotional-Grand-Canyon by taking the few steps from the couch to the kitchen table.  He looks up with bright eyes, hoping that I'll have words to explain.

I don't.

As he wraps his arms around me, the tears come again.

I cry because I hurt.  I cry because I am loved and yet so undeserving of it.  I cry because I'm aware of my shortcomings and how un-Jesus-like I am.  I cry because this-thing-called-'marriage' is smoothing out all my rough edges and I know that I still have so much further to go.  I cry because this world is not my home.  And I am so very ready for the world that is my home.

He loves me.  Of this am sure.

And I'm pretty crazy about him too.  ;)

Journal Entry [Sunday, March 28th, 2010]

Apex last night and Grace this morning.  

Last night Pastor Rob shared a story of the celebration of the 100 anniversary of Christian missionaries coming to a certain country (Paupa New Guinea?).  At this event, one of the natives of the land got up and made an announcement.  He was only of the oldest men still living and he said that he had important information and if he didn't reveal it, it would die with him.  He said that when the missionaries first came, the people didn't want them there, so they poisoned them.  Missionary children started dying.  Yet as the number of graves rose, the missionaries did not give up or get discouraged.  This elderly man ended by saying, "It was watching them die that made us want to join them."

Lord, so often we hear people say that people will come to Jesus as they watch how we live.  Yet here it is death that brought the change.

I want to live and die as such.  Oh Lord, I am reminded of my desire to be martyred for you and my desire to live everyday as a martyr.  May I both live and die for Your Glory.  In watching me die, may others want to join the cause of Christ.  Oh, I know that it is not easy.  Perhaps it means a lifetime of sickness.  May I be found faithful as I pass through the fire.

Use my life, Lord.  Use my sickness.  May my life truly be a beautiful, broken offering to you.

Journal Entry Janurary 24th, 2010

It is 5:00am. For hours I have tossed and turned, searching for relief from my pain. I find none.

I detest, I loathe my body. This is strong language, yet it is the secret that I carry of abhorring my very being. Fighting bitterness over disappointment and despair of a body turned against me. It rebels. I have little control. What hope is there? What reason to push on and fight for another day?

At 5am (as I wait for dawn after a painfully slow night) it is difficult to see any. Yet I must go on. I must fight. I must wage war against my flesh. I refuse to let me body win. I refuse to be captive to it. I refuse to let it suck all the joy from my life.

Dualism. I am more than simply a physical being. I have a soul that can never die. While my body languishes away, my soul can be filled aplenty as it gorges on God's grace and faithfulness.

prayer is not a formula

Sitting in front of a smoldering fire in my family room I am reminded that prayer is not a formula.

This semester I have been pouring over I Samuel chapter 1 where it records the story of Hannah, absolutely frantic for a son. Hannah is one of two wives to Elkanah (v. 2). Although she is barren (by the Lord's doing), her husband dearly loved her (v. 5). The Bible makes in clear that it was God who closed Hannah's womb (v. 5, 6), although her rival (Elkanah's other wife, Peninnah) had children. Year by year, as the family would go up the house of the Lord, at Shiloh (v. 3), Hannah would weep and refuse to eat (v. 7) because Peninnah made her life miserable.

One year, Hannah went alone to the temple in "bitterness of soul" (v. 10). Eli, the priest, was there watching this take place (v. 9). She "prayed to the LORD and wept in anguish" (v. 10). Her vow is found in verse 11, "O LORD of hosts, if You will indeed look on the affliction of Your maidservant and remember me, and not forget Your maidservant, but will give Your maidservant a male child, then I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life, and no razor shall come upon his head." Hannah continued praying before the Lord silently; she "spoke in her heart" (v. 13). Watching all of this transpire, Eli thought that she was drunk (v. 15). Sad, isn't it, that the priest was more accustom to seeing people drunk outside the temple than recognizing true desperation for God? Eli chides her for being drunk, but Hannah replies that she hasn't been drinking! Rather, she was "a woman of sorrowful spirit" having "poured out [her] heart before the Lord" (v. 14-15). This is similar language to Psalm 62:8, "Trust in Him at all times, you people; Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us. Selah." Hannah says that before this time she had spoken "out of the abundance of her complaint and grief" (v. 16).

The language here is simple, but the grief that Hannah felt must have been truly heart-wrenching. She uses the word "affliction" showing how this issue was affecting her life; it was the "thorn in her flesh". In Old Testament culture, having children was an important part of a woman's life. On top of that, Hannah clearly had the desire to raise godly children and give them back to the Lord. Her motives were pure. Her desire for children was God-given. Yet, God hadn't answered her pleas. Have you ever pleaded desperately with the Lord for something? A legitimate need? A God-given desire?

Eli responds, "Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition which you have asked of Him" (v. 17). Personal interjection here: a dear friend has been studying this passage with me and she keeps saying, "Don't you wish you had an Eli who could tell you that the Lord would grant your petition?"

Hannah, who has been weeping over this issue for years, gets up, goes on her way and eats (v. 19). Her countenance changes as well (v. 19). The next morning, the family rose early and worshiped before the Lord (v. 20). This, I believe, shows that Hannah pleaded and petitioned the Lord, but then she left it there at the alter of the Lord. After years of grieving over this issue, she is able to get up, go on her way, eat, no longer be sad and worship. She trusts that the Lord has heard her petition and that He can be trusted with it. In essence, her actions show the attitude of her heart, that she has given the issue to God and is leaving it there for Him to deal with.

Hannah bears a son.

Jump forward a book to II Samuel 12:16-23. David has committed adultery with Bathsheba and out of the adulterous relationship, a son is born. Just as the Lord (in I Samuel) closes Hannah's womb, here in II Samuel the Lord strikes David's child with illness (v. 15). David pleads with the Lord (v. 16). He fasts (v. 16). He is contrite on the floor (v. 16). He refused to be comforted (v. 17).

David's son died.

Once David receives the news, one would expect him to sink into a deep depression. Rather, he gets up off the ground, he washes and changes clothes, ate, and went into the house of the LORD and worshiped (v. 20).

Clearly two separate situations. Each has its own oscillating variables, which cannot be ignored. However the formula is similar. Sincere prayer. Heartfelt weeping. Refusal of food. Sacrificial worship. Purposeful surrender. Absolute desperation for God to work.

The same "formula" is found in both passages. God responds differently in each situation. In one He gives a child, in the other He takes a child. YET... Hannah and David respond similarly. Their actions show that God can be trusted as they completely and totally give the matter to Him and leave it there! Once their request has been laid out before the Lord, they arise from their weeping and continue with life.

Oh Lord, may I be as faithful to fully lay my requests before You and leave them there, knowing that You can be trusted with all aspects of my life including my deepest desires and needs. May I then continue life, living in full assurance that Your way is truly best.

Journal Entry: Monday, October 5th, 2009

Thinking today about the Israelites and the hindsight bias that we have in regards to them. We read the Old Testament and see that God always came through for them. And yet, they had no idea what would happen. Like when they were leaving Egypt, they were trapped with the Egyptians on one side and the Red Sea on the other. There was seemingly no way out. And even if there had been a way out, the Israelites probably didn't imagine that it would come as it did. They start to panic and we (reading it thousands of years later) think, "Just wait for it...okay, in one, two, three..." and voila! The Red Sea parts and they are saved.

We get so stressed out over the events in our lives because we don't have the advantage of the hindsight bias. If someone looked at my life in about 200 years and read through my journal they would probably say the same thing: "Just wait for it!" God has a purpose in all that He does and He even uses my stupid mistakes somehow. Hindsight bias makes it so easy to see the hand of God and see that He has a purpose in each of the events in my life (or at least can change my mistakes into good) - Lord, help me to be faithful and steadfast despite not being able to see the hindsight bias.

Hebrews 11 is such a great chapter because of the hindsight bias. Yet as those individuals were going through each of those situations, I am sure that they were confused and asked the same questions that we ask today. "God, do You have a plan in this??" "Are You really there??" "Are You even listening??"

Beautifully Scarred

Sobs racked the body of the young woman. Her cries were the audible expression of the gaping wounds covering the majority of her body. Her torn clothing was not only ragged and dirty, but stained with blood as well. The tears falling freeing from her eyes seemed never ending. Unaware of anything going on around her, the small meadow where she lay because a temporary haven in her suffering. She didn’t notice the huge Lion enter until He approached and started gently washed her feet with His large, rough tongue. Instead of recoiling in fear, the girl was surprised and started. She noticed that as soon as the Lion’s tongue touched her wound, the bleeding stopped immediately. The tongue was as rough as sandpaper, but tender as well. “Oh great Lion,” she cried, “Heal the rest of me as well!”

The Lion’s healing tongue moved slowly, working its way from the girl’s feet, to her arms and finally to her face. The girl jumped up and ran to the small brook to gaze at her reflection. She shrunk back in surprise and dismay, not expecting to her a scarred, disfigured face looking back at her. “But…” she faltered, “I thought you were healing me. Couldn’t You have taken these scars away as well? I am so very ashamed of them….” Tears were her only consilation as the Lion disappeared into the forest.

The girl went back to her village and continued to live a normal life, but was always covered in robes and headdresses so that her scars were hidden.

Many years passed and no one in the village ever knew about the scars that decorated the women’s body. Then one day as the now elderly woman worked in the fields, her headdress came off and briefly exposed her scarred face. She struggled to quickly re-cover her shamed secret before it was noticed, but it was too late. One of the other women, a woman much younger than herself, spotted it. All daylong and all the next day she persisted in finding out why the wounds were so rejected and shameful to the elderly woman. Finally the elderly woman removed the head veil and clothing that for so long had been her security. She crudely told the story of the Lion and then waited for the cruel comments and questions to come from the younger woman. As she finished, she looked at the younger woman expecting to find rejection in her eyes or to hear a comment about her scars. Instead, the younger woman’s eyes were overflowing with tears. Her voice cracked as she sobbed, “Oh, what a good Lion is He!” Still sobbing, she removed her own tunic revealing a bandage, stained with blood, wrapped around her waist. She removed this as well revealing an obviously old, very large wound that had been festering for quite a while. Looking once again into the scarred woman’s eyes, she begged, “Oh please, can you take me to Him?”

From then on, the scarred women bore her scars with dignity and as a result, people saw not a wounded body, but a healed soul. Her life became a testimony to that great Lion, the gentle Healer.

Journal Entry: Monday, January 19th, 2009

Monday, January 19th, 2009

7:00 pm

Lord, 

Missions conference, the IJM org forming on campus, Charity's CD, various verses, the sermon last week...You say that pure and undefiled religion is caring for the widows and orphans.  Lord, I am convicted to the very depths of my soul about my self-centeredness, my materialism, my lack of care and concern for the hurting people of the world.  I want to go minister and be ministered to by these people who have such faith in You, even in the face of persecution.  They are persecuted by their families, their friends, their villages and their government.  Sometimes mere children, these people sing out Your praises with their entire beings.  They never stop to consider whether or not this is "their style" of music, because they recognize that the praise is not directed towards them.

Oh Lord, these people pray for us Americans!  We think that we can somehow send missionaries to "help" them, but in many cases, Jesus, *we* could learn from them.

I never felt "called" to "missions"- what does that even mean?  Jesus has called all of us (if we are Christians) to love the body of Christ whether they be Indian, Khmer (Cambodian), Chinese, Ethiopian or American.

Charity's CD puts faces and stories to overwhelming words like AIDS.  Lord, I want to be ever sensitive to Your will for my life.  Unlike Jonah, I want to run toward Your will.  Guide me, Lord.  I don't want to stay here at Cedarville, but if this is where You want me next year then, Lord, I will do it.  But I don't want this passion to ever fade.  I am no longer comfortable being comfortable.  Issues like child sacrifice, prostitution, slavery, starvation, AIDS, the Untouchables and orphans break my heart, as I believe they break Yours.  Just last week we were singing and said (the prayer of my life) "break my heart for what breaks Yours."  Is this the result of that prayer?  I have seen in the past few years how my heart has been changed toward these issues.  I believe that that was You!  Since I was a little girl, I have been passionate about international adoption and about working in an orphanage.  Then as I got older and I became aware of child prostitution, I wanted to raise awareness and go to Cambodia.  Although I (rather selfishly) never thought that I would want to work with AIDS victims, in the past month I am willing and truly eager to go wherever You would send me.

Grant me contentment wherever I am, Lord.  Give me opportunities to share this information about these serious issues with others and hopefully pass the burden on to them.  Jesus, I love You with all that I am and I am eternally amazed at how You rescued me to give me new life in You!!