31 Days of Open Grace - Day 7

There are some days when I just want to be done. There are days when the weariness is deep and I just don't want to deal with it all anymore. I get tired of dealing with the brokenness and the things I want to fix but can't. I get tired of feeling like I'm not enough. I get tired of doing the same thing over and over every day and nothing ever changing. The light just gets really hard to see.

And the best way to describe it is deep soul weariness.

Sometimes life can feel like wandering through the wilderness. Walking in circles in the desert. Getting nowhere. And I want to be the kind of faithful Christ-follower who counts it all as gift and faithfully remembers to scoop up the manna each morning and rejoices in His consistent providence. But I'll be real honest... Sometimes I lose my taste for manna. Sometimes I want more. And here's what I look like when I'm in that place:

I am an anxious wreck.
I take everything personally.
I poorly manage my time.
I become hypercritical of everyone around me, especially those I love most.
I am fragile.
I want to cry all the time.
I don't want to get up in the morning.
I can't sleep.
I run away from people, or worse, do all I can to push them away.
I develop a sharp tongue.
I am easily angered.
I am insensitive and selfish.
I am cynical, even in the face of Life-giving truth.
I stop being a good steward of my home, my body, and the other gifts I've been given.

And worst of all, I am completely aware of it and that bugs me and so I start spiraling deeper into the darkness of the pit until I can't see the way out. And I want to pull myself up by my own bootstraps and start climbing my way out. But everything feels so fake and forced and I keep slipping back down and I. Just. Can't.

And that's why I need you, my friend. That's why we need community. And this is crazy for me to say as a self-proclaimed over the top introvert and constant nurturer. I need you. I need you as much as you need me, maybe more. I need you to reach down a hand and lift me up. I need you to come knock on my tent and say "Hey, it's morning. Let's go gather our manna again." And then lead me with a strong hand in the right direction. I need you to remind me of the truth. I need you to lift up my weary arms and put words before God that I can't. Because we both know that the things of this world are not enough and I have got to keep going back to the Source of Living Water and drinking deep or I. Will. Die. But sometimes I'm too weary to take a step. I'm dying of thirst but I'm to tired to lift my head and drink. And I need you. And that is the only way we are going to get through this wilderness... together.

31 Days of Open Grace - Day 6

Tuesdays are hard. They are long. They are exhausting. I don't really feel like sitting to write. And yet on day six, it's what I've been thinking about all day. What will I write tonight? What will God and I unearth together today? How will the words move to unlock something in my soul? Because that's exactly what has been happening. I feel like a part of me is being set free, being renewed. And I love it.

And here's what I'm learning - There is a difference between sleep and rest. There is a difference between shutting down and renewal. A lack of activity is not the same as stillness and being alone is not the same as solitude. When I am weary, what I am really longing for is renewal, not escape. Oh how we have made escape seem like the answer! I think I just need a moment to myself. Let me just get away. I'd like to get lost in a book. None of these things are necessarily bad, but none of them are necessarily helpful either. The real question I need to be asking is this - Is this renewing for my soul?

What am I doing when I get a moment to myself or I get away or I lose myself in a book (or rather Netflix, because let's be real...)? Am I shutting out my emotions? Am I leaving myself empty? Or worse, am I choosing to replay the lies running through my head? Obsessing over mistakes I've made or ways that I'm worried or frustrated? Am I grabbing my shovel and digging a pit? Or am I opening myself up and breathing deep and drinking stillness like cool water? Am I savoring stories of hope and redemption? Am I reveling in Beauty? Am I being renewed?

That's what it comes down to when I come home at the end of the day. Am I opening up to be refilled and renewed? Or am I shutting down and closing myself off? Some days, closing off and shutting down makes a lot of sense. I want to save what little I have left, but it doesn't work that way. Manna rots when kept over night. So I must lay it out in the open and allow myself to be filled. And that's what this is for me.

31 Days of Open Grace - Day 5

So. Prayer. I'll be honest. It's one of those things I've never really gotten. I have all the classic stories of unanswered prayers. Of healings that never came. Of grief and loss in the midst of unshakable faith. Just like everybody else. And so I guess I just wonder sometimes what the point is. But the thing is, I say that without an ounce of cynicism. In all honesty I wonder - If God is sovereign and good and I am loved and His will is always what is best, then why pray? 

Here's what I know. Most everything I've ever heard about prayer is true. It is powerful and it is important and God desires it of us and it is transformational and sanctifying. So maybe the better question isn't "why pray?" Maybe the better question is "how do I pray?" And suddenly the disciples make a lot more sense to me. Maybe I'm late to the party here, but whenever I read about the Lord's Prayer and the disciples asking Jesus to teach them how to pray, I always read it as them asking for some sort of secret. Like they wanted to know the way to unlock some sort of power. I heard "Give us the magic words, Jesus!" But honestly, maybe they were just like me. Maybe they really just wanted to know... This talking to the God of the universe thing makes my mind get all twisted and knotted up. I don't get it. Teach me how. Teach me how to approach God as my Father, as my Lord, as the Ultimate Authority on the direction of my life, and as the Lover of my Soul, and my Friend, and my Healer, and my Provider. Teach me how I'm supposed to bring my puny little words up to such a massively complex and beautiful God! 

And that has been my cry for months. As I have walked through the unfolding of a beautiful new relationship and the mess of broken ones. As I watched a sweet friend battle cancer for the second time and sat astounded by her faith. As I left comfort for a new adventure.  All this time it has been playing constantly in the back of my mind - Lord, teach me how to pray.

I don't really have any secrets. I'm no theologian, though I've heard my fair share of sermons on The Lord's Prayer. But I will share this. As I have used the word "open" as the lens through which I view my life this year, I have learned that prayer is, at its simplest, an opening of the heart to God. It is taking all the thoughts and worries and concerns and fears and joys and gifts and celebrations and instead of holding them tightly in my hands or locking them in the vault of my mind, opening them up and showing them to God. Prayer is a shared attention with God. If I have a problem and no solution, I can open my hands and show it to God. If I have a deep desire for the way I want that problem to be solved, I can show Him that too. If I just want to sit and cry, I can do that, but I do it with God. Every thought that I have can be laid bare before Him. That is prayer. It is a conscious decision to share my life with God, much like I make a conscious decision to share my life with the man I'll marry (and if marriage is a metaphor for the church's relationship with God, this is as it should be). Prayer is letting God in and savoring that intimacy of nothing hidden and never carrying anything alone. It is a beautiful mystery.

31 Days of Open Grace - Day 4

So I read this post yesterday and I see a revolution in the making. A new level of openness that is right there for us all. An openness that can lead to freedom. An openness that can shine light into darkness and tear down strongholds of lies. An openness that can unite the hearts of people instead of allowing us to go on living out this sick comparison game. I read this woman's honest words. I see her vulnerability. And all I can think is that I want in! I want to be able to stop hiding behind this Insta-worthy life, putting up hashtags like ramparts to guard my image.

And it's not that I want to go and air my dirty laundry for the world to see, but there is an undeniable power in the opening of our real, authentic selves to one another. There is something sacred in the "Oh! You too? All this time I thought I was alone."

Since choosing the word "open" as my theme for 2015, I have seen a lot. I met the man I will marry, because I couldn't close myself off to a chance at reconnecting with an old friend (another story for another time!). I have met God in a new way as I left the life I knew and had grown comfortable in for something brand new. I am a better teacher because I took a chance at a job in an inconvenient location and I could never imagine wanting to be anywhere else. I have seen redemption at work because I opened my hands to receive whatever came my way, even when it hurt.  And I want the world to know that. In a world where we are surrounded by brokenness, I want my words to show that God is near and He is good and He is at work in all things. I have much to be thankful for and I count the gifts daily.

So here's the thing... The person you see on Facebook and Instagram is not a fake. The twenty-something music teacher enjoying new adventures and counting down the days to her wedding and geeking out over Downton and Star Wars and loving her simple life... That's me. I mean every word. Every smile is genuine. But that's not all there is. There's more to it than that. And maybe that's what this month is about. If I can bring just a few things into the light that are holding me captive, sitting to write each day will be worth my time. If I can shed a little light for you and allow you the opportunity to exhale and say, "Oh! You too?  All this time I thought I was alone!" well, that would be such grace and an answer to prayer. So yeah, I'll open myself up to you a little bit.  I'll let you see a little of the woman who loves Jesus, but has to force herself to open her Bible.  The woman who says she wants to see her prayer life stretched, but cringes when people ask her to pray for them. The woman who played keyboard on the praise team, but isn't really a fan of walking into church. The woman who spends most of her thought energy comparing herself to everyone around her and hoping she can maybe pull off mediocre.  And there will be more. Because this year is about being open, and this month about open grace, so yeah. I'm going to go there.

31 Days of Open Grace - Day 3

We sit around the table sipping wine and talking with jazz music playing in the background. Everything has changed. Engagement rings and wedding invitations and baby announcements and new homes. The connection is different tonight than it has ever been. And it is Good. It has taken me years to be able to say that... to call change good. Because change comes with struggle and tears and pain and anxiety. Even the best of things are hard.

And this is the most important thing I am learning - The hard and the beautiful are not at odds with one another. Hard is not the opposite of beautiful. Challenging is not the opposite of good. It is possible for life to be simultaneously hard and painful and beautiful and sweet and scary... and all of these together make life Good.

With something as complex and intricate as living, all of these elements and emotions can be woven together to create a Good work. All is grace, and we can courageously open our hands to receive it. Every single part of it. And it is Good.

31 Days of Open Grace - Day 2

It's day 2 and already I have no idea what to write. It is a dry season. Putting thoughts together is hard. Sitting to write is harder. Openness is hard. It is hard because to be open requires that I sit still for at least a little while and listen.  To be open means I need to be okay when the thoughts and the words don't come. To be open means to sit down and let my fingers fly anyway, because maybe it will come together, and maybe it doesn't matter if it does or not.

I am fairly convinced that I have nothing to say worth anyone's time. It has all been said before. But I am opening myself and my world anyway. Because I want to see again.

I want to live the life of an observer again. I want to count moments as gifts and cherish them again. I want to get off the treadmill and step outside and breathe the air. I want to lift my eyes up from the ground and look at the sky.

I want to actually hear the heart behind the incessant chatter of my students in the cafeteria. I want to cherish their excitement over a trip to Chuck-E-Cheese or that mom packed a cheese sandwich for lunch, because that's their favorite.

I want to sip life like fine wine even as I try to pour out my life as the same. I want moments to mean something.  I don't want them to get lost in the shuffle.

I want to hear the whisper - that I am the beloved and you are the beloved. And I want to take time to bless and receive the blessing. I don't want to miss it!

And honestly, I don't think it's as hard as it seems. I think it just takes practice and accountability. I am praying that over the next 31 days my perspective will change and that I will learn to see my entire life differently. I don't know if I have anything to say. But I want to be changed.

31 Days of Open Grace - Day 1

There's something about October 1st.  The world is abuzz with pumpkin spiced everything and talk of sweaters and boots and changing seasons.  I feel like this doesn't happen at any other time of year.  To me, there is just something about the coming of cooler weather and the changing of colors that soothes the soul and inspires.

I'm out on the stairwell when it occurs to me.  There's a front blowing in and the leaves dance on the trees and there's something about how the breeze makes the stray pieces of hair around my face tickle my brow that makes me smile.  It gives me goosebumps.  I breathe it deep.  And then it hits me... It's been awhile since I've stopped and breathed it deep.  I think about how I took on a challenge this time last year to write every day for the month of October.  I haven't written since then.  At first I laugh.  I couldn't possibly take it on this year.  Writing every day?  I barely have time to breathe.  I'm burning out fast and running ragged.  I feel like I'm on a treadmill that's programmed just a little too fast and I'm about to lose it.  I can't seem to catch up, much less get ahead.  So who in her right mind takes on a writing challenge in the midst of it all?  I could never come up with anything quality when I'm in this state... Certainly not anything anyone would want to read.

But then I remember.  I remember what writing every day for a month did for me last year.  The discipline of sitting and putting thoughts down no matter how tired I felt.  The training myself to open my eyes and look for things worth writing about.  The releasing the expectations and giving myself the freedom to write, whether it turned out to be profound and beautiful or not.  I met one of my best friends last October.  I also reconnected with a friend from high school whom I will marry at the end of this year.  I don't know if that had anything to do with my writing.... but I know that I remember it.  I know that I noticed life that month in a different way.

So yes.  Even as I write this, I am asking myself if I know what I'm doing.  If I can actually do this in the midst of my crazy life.  But I say, why not?  We've got to create space for the things that fill our soul.  That takes discipline, accountability, and intentionality. So that's what this is.  It's more that writing every day.  It is committing myself to walking open once again - with open hands, open heart, and open eyes.  It's about training my eyes to see what God is doing around me and giving myself the freedom to speak.  So this is 31 Days of Open Grace.