Thoughts.

  It is hard to believe one of the hardest seasons is coming to a close. It is also hard to believe that my life is taking a giant change- again. I am truly just avoiding studying and packing because who truly wants to do those things? We received our schedule for our final week and I really wish I could just take my exam tomorrow and be done. My patience is...nonexistent.

  I took some time to process on Friday and I came up with this question: what does it look like to be a godly woman in a room full of, well, women?
I am disappointed in myself as I look back at these last few months. I have allowed myself to be poorly and, in turn, justified in treating others poorly. I have not walked away from gossip; I have not loved to my fullest capacity. I have not been who I know myself to be. It hits me in the gut and makes me fall to my knees in repentance every time.

So what does it look like? I have had three days to completely ignore this question and I think I have done pretty well at it, but now it will not leave my head. What do godly women look like?
I was processing this yesterday with a dear friend and started joking around with her- who do we even look at? Eve ate the stinking fruit; Bathsheba slept with the king; Sarai allowed her husband to lie and give half-truths. Ruth married a man that is traditionally old enough to be her grandpa; WHO DO WE LOOK AT? Mary, Martha, other Mary? I had fun with it, but I was also slightly serious.

A godly woman looks like a good number of people I know, actually. (Mind you, I have yet to do a Bible study on this.) Being a godly woman looks something like Jesus, only female..right? Here's what I have (and feel free to comment your own thoughts).

A godly woman is soft. Not in the doormat kind of way, but in the way that expresses more than empathy. She will express her empathy, but she is also not so jaded that people wonder if they will still be accepted afterward. She is not hard, but exposes her own humanness in the midst of pain and heartache.

A godly woman is humble. She is not a showboat. She is not one that people wonder if she is being arrogant versus confident. She speaks with confidence and leaves the rest a mystery. Confidence with humility sounds very different than confidence tinged with pride.

A godly woman knows her work and does it with excellence. I think of Lydia, the seller of purple linens in Acts and founder of the church in Philippi. As a doula/ birth assistant/ midwife, there is an understanding that midwifery is an art. There are no hard and fast rules about home birth care. Where one midwife would do it this way another is saying no way, this way. Either way it is done, it should be done in excellence.

A godly woman is safe. Refraining from gossip, refraining from criticizing and making others feel inferior. She is unassuming and and safe place to land in the chaos.

A godly woman takes care of herself so that she can take care of others. She gets full, so that she can pour out. She knows her limits and is not afraid of them.

What are other things you can think of? How do you be a witness in a room full of people without speaking a word?

Courage

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.” 

― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

The first time I heard he isn't safe, I flipped a lid. No joke. Hyperventilated under my tree for a few hours after that class. How could he be trustworthy if he isn't safe?

Now, almost five years later, I am very much aware that He is not safe. Since joining Y in 2012, I have been around the globe a few times. I have met people from many different nations, speakers of many tongues, and lived on three different continents. I have eaten insects, um, bigger animals, and a few things I am still not sure what it was. I have celebrated weddings, births, and mourned and grieved with the locals. I have learned more about my good Father than I had ever thought possible. I have enjoyed friendships for a season and some that have continued onto deep, solid friendships. I have discovered my calling and learned to love when it is most inconvenient (although that seems to be the theme of this season too). I have been bit, pooped on, proposed to, and laughed at. I have been loved well, fed (more love), and taught. I have had malaria, parasites, and infections. I have laughed, cried, and loved with my all. There have been a few times when I have thought 'this is hard', but never have I questioned the safety of my Father. 

Not until now.

As I was sitting and talking with a friend today, pouring out my heart, releasing tension from my body and heart about how these past few weeks have been difficult for many reasons it hit me:

He isn't safe. 

Right now, I so badly want Him to be safe. To not call me to the tame. To not ask me to expose my heart. To say it is okay for me to be hard and callous and shallow in my relationships. I so badly want Him to look at my weak and wounded heart and pity me. Cry with me. Pull me into the shelter of his pinions- I mean, you cannot get much closer than smelling armpits! 

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will feel no evil for Thou art with me." 

-Psalm 23

Only I fear this darkness. I fear this valley. Because this valley has gone down deeper than I have gone in a while. And aren't I supposed to be pursuing my calling in this time? Shouldn't I feel...something other than this feeling of hiding and running away? Why do I feel like David about to face Goliath? Or maybe how Ruth felt going into the land of Naomi or when she went before Boaz and laid at his feet? Why do I feel like Mary, the mother of Jesus, when the people found out about her carrying a babe during her engagement? Why do I feel lost and overwhelmed and like I am going deeper into a gorge? That it is no longer the shadow of death but it is death itself? 

"Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him."

-Job 13:15

Though You slay me. Though I do not see the way out from this valley. Though I can no longer see the greener pastures and there seems to be no still waters. Though my friends seem to be in the same place and there is nothing I can do. Though I do not see how any of this dream will come to pass. Though You, my King, slay me, Your handmaiden.. I WILL trust you. 

And I will not trust you because You make all things good in time. Or because I know you to be a Redeemer. Or because I desire something. No. I will trust You because You are my God and You are good.  So even if I am here for the next five years- feeling like David, Ruth or Mary. Or if I am only in this place for the next six weeks, my King, my Lord, I WILL trust you. And not because You promise good or because I want to be looked upon as someone great. 

"You make me brave. You make me brave. You call me out beyond the shores into the waves. Yeah, You make me brave."

"You Make Me Brave" by Bethel Music

Today, I do not feel courageous. I do not feel brave. In fact, I would rather dig a hole, climb into it, and bury myself (but not here in Alaska cause the ground is still really cold) and never acknowledge that I was not brave in this moment. 

"Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point."

-C.S. Lewis

Alllllll the virtues are being tested. I am pretty sure I am pulling a solid F- which is difficult cause I HATE failing. 

So naturally, Will Reagan's "Take A Moment" came on. :) Okay, fine. Maybe for just this moment, I can be brave. After that, it is all You God.

Scatterbrained Goodness

   Feelings are one of my biggest struggles. I am not even one hundred percent positive why or how or any of that jazz, but I do know...my feelings and I do not always get along.

   Somewhere in life, I got scared to feel. Excited, content, sad, love. I got scared and that feeling made me even more scared. (haha) As the years rolled on, not much changed. Until one day, a beautiful Man showed me the truth. 

   I used to make fun of people that felt. I would laugh at the way they would get excited and I would smile cynically as they felt pain and wore it for everyone to see. 

   If I am made in the image of God (which I believe I am), then feelings are a good thing. They are healthy and they are, somehow, normal. But what is a girl to do when her feelings are overwhelming? And how do I even begin to process that people can see when I am excited or when I am not okay?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   I currently have three roommates. We are all in various stages of our journeys with our Father. One of them, H, does excited very well. Everyone knows when she is excited. I am not sure if she knows it, but she will even tell everyone when she is excited. (We all know already.) I've only seen her down / her spirit heavy once in the last (almost) three months. D is our quieter one. She absorbs the world with big brown eyes and a cautious heart. Then there is T. I smile just thinking about how I describe her. She is rather great. Fiercely opinionated and sometimes needing help to convey her thoughts to people that are SO unlike her. Finally, there is me. The grandma of the bunch- yes, I still go to bed at 9.30. I often fall asleep to some deep talk happening steps away from my bedroom door (it is a small apartment). Talks of theology, embryology, weddings and some day husbands. Talks of the goodness of God or how fun it would be to go down Main St. in a mop bucket (and then a hospital visit to follow). 

   I fall asleep to these talks, so desperately wanting to be a part of them, yet also knowing I have to take care of myself. I definitely do not envy their lack of sleep, but I do envy the realness they get to share. Last night, I found myself asking- is this even worth it? To go to bed hours before they do. Listening to them discuss who knows what. Loving each other and hearing each others' hearts. I concluded with a resounding YES. Cause otherwise, the only feeling anyone would see from me is.. well, all the bad ones. (haha) And now, after having been awake for the last almost three hours and having yet to see any of my roommates (although someone's alarm is going off), I am wondering again. 

   I wanna be known too. I want discussions involving God, men, theories, aliens (I kinda just through that one in there). And chocolate dipped fruit (yeah, they ate some without me).

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Only a fool will cast his pearls before swine. Because pearls are precious. They have enormous value. Pearls do not have to be dug up from the earth like diamonds or refined / cut to be given a certain value. Pearls are made from an irritation to the oyster. The oyster knows the sand is not supposed to be there, but what can he do to get rid of it?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  The beauty of being human is simply that- I am a human. I mess up. I laugh at inappropriate moments. My face will show too many expressions and, often, people are frightened by my "take it all in" look. I have RBF, I know it. I am learning to dream. And in this process, I do not always know what I want or how to treat a certain idea. Sometimes, when I think about certain things, I panic so much that I am brought to tears. Sometimes, I speak really harshly. Other times, I am extremely passionate about something and it freaks people out. And it is all alright because I- the flaws and passions and quirks- am good. I am a pearl before my Father. Covered in all my sin, I come before His throne and He throws a priceless robe on me and calls me daughter, He calls me by name. 

Submission and Independence

Wow. I am not exactly certain how I have been in Alaska for six weeks already, but I have. With Module 1 completed and passed, too!

Forgive me, please. First for not writing and second for all of my jumbled thoughts. I really need to get back into the habit of writing every night.

My days begin earlier here- 5.45 am. At first I was waking at 6.30 am, but that quickly changed to earlier as I realized I needed more time to myself in the morning so that I was not a monster to my peers. Living and being with solely females almost all hours is teaching me a lot. I have never really had to be with only females before and when I did, I often found excuses to get away from all the estrogen. But it has been cold here in Homer. Today it is 37 F, i think. And it's WARM. How sad is that? I think I acclimated too quickly.

One thing God and I have been looking at together is submission. As a woman, I am to submit. As a woman of the Church, I am to submit to my husband. But what does that actually mean?

Merriam- Webster states: to yield to governance or authority

So then it is saying I am to yield to my husband, the church, to whomever? 
It is such a heavy topic and everyone and their mother seems to have their own opinion. Seriously. My class has had so many discussions and arguments about what it means to submit and whether or not it is a good thing. So here is my opinion. 

Submission is an honour. Ephesians 5 tells wives to submit and for husbands to love as Christ has loved the Church. What does it mean for husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the Church? Well... Christ DIED for His Bride. If a husband is to love his wife then he needs to be willing to die for her. Sorry, but I am ALL about this. If my man is willing to die for me, then I will be honoured to submit to him. If he is willing to die than that means that I can trust him with all I am. It means that no matter how preposterous something may seem, I am going to listen to his heart intention because I know that this man does not want to die. I also know that if it came to that, then he would. Because Christ did. And Christ is the example of all the Church (Colossians). 

So yeah, maybe a woman should or should not be president or in Parliament or even a pastor in a church. I do not know and I do not really care to express my thoughts on the matter. But to submit is to honour and I will be so honored to submit to a man who is willing to love me the way Christ loved the Church. His Bride was in His heart. He is all about her. 

Another thing God and I have been discussing is independence. Oh man, another weighty thing... Yet it goes so perfectly with submission. If I submit, then I am not doing something in independence. I kinda LOVE my independence. I like being able to discuss an option will pretty much myself. I also really like to travel. And, like a good ole American, I like to being able to do whatever BY MYSELF. But that is independence and not interdependence. For example, I ran out of food a couple a weeks ago and some of the girls from my school went and bought me food. Even if I wanted to be independent in that moment, I could not be. Interdependence was being forced on me. And it was a good thing. A very, very good thing. Let's just say this road of interdependence has been a long one, and it still looks pretty long. 

Love is...

         On January 1, 2016, I found myself sitting on a bed in Wisconsin asking Holy Spirit what my year was to be about. I got many things in prayer, but the big one was one small, loaded word: love.

I was to learn how to love those around me and those afar. I was to learn how to love without reserve; here are some of my thoughts as I head into a new year with new things to learn. 

          "Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." - 1 Corinthians 13.4-7

           Love is so much more, so much deeper than the adjectives Paul gave to the Corinthians. Actually, Paul wrote about verbs. Patience is something one practices, just like we must actively practice kindness. And humility and grace. See the thing about love is that no matter how much we learn about it there is always more to learn. 

          And, for me, this learning process was really quite difficult. 2016 involved three different countries, growing apart from old friends and closer to new ones. It involved making friends and accepting people as they are. It involved a lot of tears- after all, love mourns with those who mourn and rejoices with those who rejoice. Here are some highlights of what I have learned about love:

         Love is active. Love does not wait for someone else to say 'okay, I will go to the nations and tell this people about Jesus.' Or for someone else to pay it forward. Or for someone else to encourage or champion others. No, love gets involved. Love gets so involved that it becomes emotional. Let me say it this way: In a race all the runners compete for a prize. A boxer gets in the ring day after day to practice both offense and defense. Even though both are solo sports (as opposed to soccer or American football) it takes a team to get that individual to the place of the best or greatest. And when the player fails you know who is there crying with them? Encouraging them to finish strong? Yeah, that is right- the one who loves them. See, love pushes us to be involved. It is active. I remember in Honduras, the midwife I was shadowing needed help staining her loft floor. She had just moved in and was overwhelmed with ministry, two interns, and trying to get settled. I had met her maybe the week before that and when she asked for help I honestly didn't think twice. I do remember not wanting to, but I also knew that this was a simple, easy way to show love to this woman. So I did. I got stain on my pants, I had to sweep the loft like five times, and I worked by myself for most of the day, but it was an active way to say "hey, you are loved.". 

        Love is soft. Man, was this a hard lesson to learn. For the longest time, softness equated weakness. But as I have studied God's word in depth (yet still not deeply enough) I have seen a SOFT God. I had to learn that softness does not equate weakness and it does not equate being manipulated or anything negative. rather, softness means... well, just that. Being soft.  As a child, whom did you go to when you were hurt? Did you go to someone a prickly as a cactus? Or did you go to the person who showed concern and let you curl up into their lap (or beside them in that oversized chair) and cry and show your heart and the wound that occurred? Odds are, if you had someone like that, it was the latter. This person, this person who is vulnerable enough to show softness, shows a piece of God that is rarely seen. So many people believe God to be judgmental and hard. They see Him as callous. But the reality is is that if God is love than He cannot be that way. Love is soft. And I have a long road ahead of practicing softness, but I practice it. 

       Love walks away sometimes. Now, most of us know this one, so I won't spend a whole lot of time here. Sometimes, the easiest way to show someone love is by walking away. Honestly, the time I think of every time I was only trying to preserve relationship. She and I had a pretty rocky relationship and her tearing into me about nothing made me furious. I bit my tongue and walked away, but it did not stop the anger; not until later that night when she came up to me and apologized and told me that I had done the most loving thing possible. It blew my mind. I just did not want to explode on her, but it was in that not exploding that I learned to love her well. 

        Love serves. In the church today, we have an epidemic. We tell congregations that in order to be a good Christian that they must serve in some capacity. But the truth is, that we should NOT be serving unless it is coming from a place of love. I watched one too many people walk past a dump with homeless people and scrunch up their noses in disdain. I have watched people go out and hand out sandwiches to those who cannot possibly afford food and FREAK OUT when they are touched by someone who has not taken a shower in weeks. That is NOT love. That is duty. Love is NOT dutiful. Yes, sometimes we do things we do not want to do, but that should be coming from a place of love. We are filled up by Holy Spirit to be poured out as an offering of the Lord onto the world. That offering might be our life, might be our hearts, might be our talents- whatever you want to call it. But, really, that offering is love. Love serves because love is not arrogant. Love gets dirty. Love gets soiled clothes from playing with too many kids in a dump, or loving on a laboring mother and getting sprayed with fluids (it happened), or cooking one too many nights a week. Love serves. Not because it is the DUTY of the Bride, but because it is the RESPONSE of a Bride in love with her Bridegroom. 

        Love accepts. What is the one group of people that you just cannot seem to accept? Teen mom. Drug addict. Homeless man. Homosexual. Oh, those are easy to accept? What about these ones: the zealous Christian. The person who always thinks they are right. The sensitive. The prickly cactus sorts. The woman living with someone not her husband. We all have hurts. We all have things we cannot seem to move past. We all have that one (or more) people that we just cannot seem to get along with and accept as they are. Love accepts. Love looks past the flaws, past the outside. Past hurtful words and inappropriate actions (this is not condoning such actions). Love accepts us as we are and encourages us to be who we are created to be. God did not create us broken and hurt, that means that we are all on a journey of healing and wholeness. I am not perfect; neither are you dear friend, but love accepts. Not condones, but accepts. Huge difference. 

       And lastly, love rejoices & weeps. I went through training at CareNet (a CPC; if you do not know them, look them up) and the trainer said something along the lines of: "And whatever you do, do not cry." I had smirked and shot my hand up: "Does this mean we have permission to raid your office and cry afterward". I remember being in their place. In the place of numb, in a shell, uncertain whom to trust. I also remember kindhearted people crying for me as I would relay my story to them. They'd cry and I would sit there thinking why are you crying? Suck it up. It happens. But on this journey of love, I learned that while it may not always be appropriate to cry with the one who should be crying, it is always appropriate to cry when Holy Spirit is crying. Sometimes, Holy Spirit weeps for us. And sometimes, He weeps with us. And it is when He is weeping with us, that we are able to weep with the one who is weeping. Love weeps. Love rejoices. There were many, many tears that fell this past year. Tears of sorrow and yearning and tears of joy. There was one birth in Honduras that we were certain was a stillborn. We (the other intern and I) watched and waited and prayed with such passion. I remember standing in that room with her having to stop praying aloud because my voice was too wobbly. As much as I wanted to cry with that young mother, I knew I could not. That in that moment I had to remain strong. We finally heard a little cry from the newborn and we all sighed with relief. I also went back to the building that night and cried. In the moment of weeping, I still firmly believe it would have been inappropriate for me to join in, but in her moment of rejoicing I could. (As her doula, it would not have been professional.) I am choosing to go into a field where there will be MUCH rejoicing. After all, who doesn't love a newborn? But it is also a field of much weeping. At least there will always be someone at home waiting for me. And He always has the truth.

        Love is many things. And love is always worth the risk. And as I continue to grow and change and ask Holy Spirit to show me how to love well I know it will involve many more heart risks. 

        

        This new year holds a new learning: Come out of hiding. Sounds like fun, eh? 

"Be watchful,  stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love."