Having nice hair

The other day I went to Calypso (a hippie-esque Caribbean style fast food joint), one of my favorite places to eat, and as the girl was ringing up my order to-go she looked at me very thoughtfully and paused and then said, "I really like your hair, it's so pretty."  That's not the first time I had heard someone say that, in fact because I heard it so often I took quite some time and pride in styling my hair before going out.  My hair did look great, even on days where I just effortlessly let it air dry straight from the shower.  But most of the time, I MADE sure it looked great, I waved it and put Moroccan oil on it for that matted silky shine, and kept it smelling like sweet vanilla spices (my favorite scent).  My hair along with my teeth, my stomach, and my skin were all very well maintained with a routine.  A rigid routine that said "ok God, I'm ready to give you everything and do whatever you tell me to, so long as it doesn't interfere with me having nice hair."  Ridiculous, I know.   But that's essentially what my actions were saying. I wanted to follow Christ, to take up my cross, and bleed the way He bled for me, all the while maintaining my beautiful mane.  

       Horses are one of the most magical creatures I have ever seen and touched.  They have a wild essence about them that stirs a childlike wonder in me.  I see their eyes and it's like they are staring into me, past my hair and teeth and stomach and skin and right into the beating, hurting heart of mine that desires freedom.  Horses seem like they understand freedom, though the ones I've come across are fenced in, they still carry an air of carelessness about them that drives me to joy when I see one.  They are the epitome of beautiful, effortless and wondrous beauty.  They remind me that God knows what beauty is.  He created everything we find to be awe-strikingly beautiful; the waves at the end of a horizon, the embrace of two lovers at an airport, wildflowers in the hands of a child, and the bright coruscating sky of an early morning.  Do you know what's not beautiful?  Botox induced faces, disproportional lip injections, girls that are so calorie strict they become malnourished, and guys that need sex and affection from girls they don't intend to love back.  All of these end emotionally and physically ugly.   Things may appear beautiful for a while, but when the grasp for beauty lies outside the hands of Him who illustrates every beautiful masterpiece, it inevitably crumbles and turns to dust.  It is like trying to operate a very intricate machine without the manual, we press buttons we think are right when they actually lead to further complications.  Our efforts at maintaining our shiny selves shatters in our very hands because we were designed to be beautiful only in our continual pointing to the author of design.  We are like sunflowers thriving as we turn our gaze upon the Sun and receive the nourishment and enjoyment of brilliance.  

       Yet beauty is so appealing to us.  Whether it is the sight of a beautiful woman to a man, a beautiful man to a woman, a lustrous vanilla-scented mane, flawless symmetrical facial features, or washboard abs.  In essence these are not bad things to want or have, but when they wrap around our hearts as things we MUST have (and this includes anything: a career, a title, or any goal, even having children) they cross over into that which will eventually crush us. They take our gaze away from the very thing that makes us beautiful; the Son.  When a sunflower does not receive Light, it eventually withers and dies no matter how beautiful it is, it's beauty and very life DEPEND on having light (and compost and water).  However no sunflower can create their own pseudo light.  They can't produce water for themselves, and they certainly have no access to their own compost.  A sunflower requires care that is given apart from themselves.  Who better to take care of them than a person who wants to grow and harvest beautiful sunflowers?  God desires to see his children grow and bloom.  (Jeremiah 29:11- 11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.) 

Isaiah 58:11

11 And the Lord will guide you continually
    and satisfy your desire in scorched places
    and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
    like a spring of water,
    whose waters do not fail.

       I have struggled for so long with doubting that God desires to take care of me.  I hadn't actually viewed it like that, because the words of trust would flow out of my prayers and even in my thoughts, but my actions subtly revealed a deep rooted distrust in Him.  It wasn't until I thought about having bad hair, splotchy skin, 20 more pounds or an ugly husband that I realized I was in deep and desperate need for the Son.  I wanted to love God so long as I could avoid these things, which meant that I didn't trust that God would give me what was best for me.  I knew what was best, and if I didn't have them than God was certainly not my friend.  In fact He was my enemy if He wouldn't let me hold on to what I wanted, like a child that tells his or her mother "I hate you" when they are no longer allowed to divulge in endless amounts of candy.  We don't know what's good for us compared the One who created us and knows the stretch of eternity.  I don't know what's good for me, and trusting that God does will require me to hand him everything.  To place before Him my wants and desires, my dreams and ambitions, all if it.  To give up "having nice hair" for a beauty rooted in the hands that artfully create the very eyes that behold it.  It only makes perfect sense if you truly believe that He is real.  I don't want to serve a dead god anymore. 

Facing the Son,

-J

PMS: Pre-Mended Soul

       When that time of the month rolls around, the week before it strikes my body is a time where all the physiological reactions that fuel my thoughts are heightened.  I have this theory, (I came up with today haha) that every woman is given the gift of intuition and insight because of their cycle.  It weakens your body, and thus brings out the the real you, the broken, fearful, and vulnerable you.  The walls we use to protect ourselves and the masks we wear seem to get crumbly, and all those things we try so hard to keep contained just start leaking out through the cracks (and that is why we feel so feeble and emotional at this time).  If you hold anger or hatred then those things show (ever been around an angry woman on her period?), if you hold sorrow and pain then the tears flow at the simplest of words, or if shame and regret then the feelings of guilt are exacerbated.  Now I don't know how and when men have similar moments, but I know they experience the same emotions that must be triggered by different things.  As for my theory, I see now that even these broken moments are a blessing to thank God for.  I am grateful to be shown what's truly in my heart, as painful and overwhelming as it is to see, it brings me down from the high foggy places to the ground where I see more clearly.  To see even if just for a few days where the root of my fears are stemming from so that I can evaluate them with better clarity, pray, and give them to God, is a tremendous act of kindness on Gods part.  Sometimes it feels like those moments are the only real pockets of sincerity, in my busy body life, that I truly repent; a sobbing wreck before a loving Father.  The walls I built out of sand are blown down by the fierce winds, and the real me behind them is exposed.  I used to hate it, dreaded the days before my cycle because I knew I'd be an emotional wreck, and I would make plans to stay away from anyone so that no one would see me cry.  I had an image to protect, one that made people think I was confident, strong, and determined.  So when it came time for the winds to break me, I'd make sure I was alone.  And then I'd cry like a storm over the ocean.  Perhaps this is a silly theory, to make such a strange connection, but as I sit here on my bed the morning after a night of crying (and repenting haha) I feel so grateful.  I used to wonder what true repentance would look like, and was afraid because I thought that surely I would not be able to stop crying if I ever decided to truly repent.  How could I live like that?  The shame and guilt I had in me felt too heavy to just be thrown away, to give them to Jesus, just like that, felt too easy and undeserving.  The grace and love of such an act would crush me. But here I am, the morning after repentance, and I am lighter than yesterday, but most of all I sense in me a bubbling hope.  Hope is freeing.  Hope sets me back on the right path, dusts off my clothes and nudges me to start walking again.  So I'm walking, no longer carrying that load that weighed me down, but I know there will be more objects along the way that I will greedily try to take with me, accumulating another load, but my hope, this hope I have right now, says that Christ walks with me, and He will be the wind that breaks my stride before the load kills me.  He will not leave me or abandon me, but will do what is necessary to save me, even and especially from myself.  So whether my life appears to be going well or to be struggling under a painful load, I can be grateful.  My Jesus walks with me.  

-J

A letter to the body

Dear brother,

There is a tangible ache in my heart.  I realized that I did not truly know God, and that I can't stand to be still because it scares me.  I know God is showing Himself to me, because I long for Him despite how I also long to cling to all the idols that line my heart like countless seeds.  Each one is dug into me, and must come out until there is only pure fruit.  The thought of surrendering myself to God scares me.  I start to panic, and I feel pulled at both ends.  One end is saying that God may not deliver what I want, while the other is screaming at me to face the truth!  To see myself as I am, tied and bound to something that will eventually destroy me, how can a slave to sin taste the joys of freedom if they do not first remove the chains?  I keep trying to walk into freedom with my chains on, just in case....in case of what?  Nothing.  It is such an illogical fear, this business of real trust.  To risk the reigns of control, pay the cost of no longer being my own master, and all those tiny bursts and moments of instant gratification.  I keep thinking: what if this is as good as it will get, but deep down my spirit groans at such foolish thinking.  But here I am, once again approaching God as I truly see Him, a stranger who does not have time for a foolish girl like me, but I still ask Him to help me.  I'm desperate, even if these minutes of sincerity will only last a breath, I use the seconds to cry before Him.  Knowing my heart will harden tomorrow, I still speak laced with sorrow.  Oh that Jesus would meet me in this moment, to wipe away my tears and take away these chains for good.  I want for Him to be everything, but it is as if He is waiting for all the idols in my life to crumble and fade, and as they do, each one, feels scary, but He just keeps saying "Jamie, my beautiful and precious daughter, trust in me."

A piece of cake

There is one thing we hold on to more tightly than anything else.  That one thing is often the very thing God asks of us to let go and give to Him.  It is the one thing we try so hard to hide away so that no one will see it and make us give it up.  But God sees it, and He wants us to let it go because the longer we hold on to it, the more we hurt God and arouse his jealousy.  Whatever we feel we cannot give to God is the very thing we need to give up in order follow God.  This one thing is intense.  Clearly if we think it's something worth more than God that we can't give it up, than it's got to be the opposite of good for us.  In fact it's probably destructive to us.  Yet if we have already dug our souls fingernails into it, letting it go will feel tragic.  Letting it go will feel outrageously costly, ridiculously crazy, and insanely risky.  This one thing.  The one thing that stands between you and God.  

There is one thing I hold on to, I cling on to it with a fierceness, and will not let it leave my grip.  Or if I do let it go, it's only to set it down at a safe distance in order for me to be able to grab it again if I deem it necessary to do so.  I can not let this go, because my grip on it feels crucial to my very life. Did I count the cost?  Did I weigh the measures right?  When I said I'd love You God, did I actually know what I was really giving up?  I saw what I could gain, but I didn't realize how much I'd have to give up. I thought I could have my cake and eat it too, and then have some more because I know your resources are endless.  I didn't realize to have your cake I'd have to give up mine...this one that I baked and decorated.  How do I know Yours will taste better than mine?  What if I give You my cake only to find that I don't like Yours?  Sure, I know I'm not a great baker, everything I make usually turns out bland, and I'm aware that you created every flavor so Yours will probably taste divine, but still...how do I know for sure?  I have this one thing, this one cake, and actually I've been eating it and it's pretty nasty :(  but still, what if I give it up for Yours and I miss my old cake?  The nasty one that I don't like at all... :/. What's wrong with me? Well sometimes I like it, because I made it, and when I get really famished it kind if tastes good, but not after a couple bites.  It's got the worst aftertaste ever.  Really bitter and sour.  Lord, I want Yours.  Real good cake.  The kind that's beautiful to look at as well as amazingly delicious.  I've heard about it, I've even read up on it, in fact I know pretty much everything about it.  But still...I have mine.  What if I give up mine and never receive Yours? Then I'd be left with no cake at all!  I would starve?!  Will You let me starve?!! I am afraid, but I long for Yours everyday.  My heart races at the thought of Yours because I know so much about it, and now it's only a matter of having it.  Your cake of glory.  Sounds silly because this is a metaphor, but that is what it is.  I must give up my moldy piece of self glorification in order to walk in Your glory.  Please help me trust in You, and give me the strength to give up the one thing I have yet to yield to You.  So that I will have nothing standing in the way between You and me, Lord.

In Jesus name I pray, amen.

-j

Simplicity of Heart

       That has been a recurrent reminder in my life lately.  I have these expectations of long and short term situations from relationships that begin or end to the meals I plan to eat that don't get eaten, or the places I go toward to the places I leave behind.  I have a natural inclination to want to control everything in my life, but God has continuously showed me that I have no control of anything, but rather only an illusion of it.  Control is power, and there is no other power that will rule aside from that which belongs to God.  The more I try to be my own god and control things, or hold on to expectations, the more worry and anxiety I just add to my soul since I can't truly control even my waking and sleeping.  It is unwise because the load is too heavy, and I cannot lean on myself if myself is falling.  So that leaves me with one solution, the same solution that solves every problem I ever have.  Simply this:

Acts 2: 44-47  

“Now all who believed were together, and had all things in common, and sold their possessions and goods, and divided them among all, as anyone had need.  So continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, they ate their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people.  And the Lord added to the church daily those who were being saved”

It is simple: Jesus.  The early church loved Jesus, and showed their love by living with such a simplicity of heart.  Praising God together, eating together, and giving everything to support one another for the sake of the gospel.  

Fear is difficult.  Fear adds worry before things to be worried about even happen.  Crazy!  

       So it starts with trust.  Real, raw, blindfolded trust.  The kind that makes you fall for a time long enough to let Him catch you.  Let me repeat that:  Real trust is the kind that makes you fall for a time long enough to let Him catch you.  You don't catch yourself, you don't let someone else try and catch you, but you keep falling long enough until He catches you.  The falling is scary, but the catching is glorious!  To be caught in the hands of God is like coming across the wardrobe to Narnia (I've heard this metaphor used twice in the past week so it's really stuck with me), once you have seen and been in what His glory is like you will never be the same.  It completely changes you, and rightly so.  If you stepped into a world completely contrasting to the one you were from would you not be amazed?  Especially if that world was filled with unimaginable adventure and wildly bold friends that lived passionately?  

       I relinquish my rights, and in doing so I pick up all of my responsibilities.  What does that mean? That is trust.  To let go of the idea that I have a right to anything, but rather live with the intention of living out all of my responsibilities given to me by that which I put my trust in.  When I trust in God I pick up every responsibility He gives me: every dollar, every word, every relationship, and every meal is a responsibility of mine to diligently live out for His glory and not my own.

      God's desires for us are going to be utterly creative, because His very nature is artistically intentional.  What he hands to You will likely be awesomely different from what He hands to me, but both will end in His name being glorified.  So I strive to let go of trying to control things, take up my responsibilities, and know that it will begin with the small stuff; a daily surrender as I fall fast into the hands of Him who I trust will catch me.  

Falling and still falling,

-J

WHOOO it's been a while, I know.

So,  perhaps I let myself let time slip by without writing much of my thoughts on here.  It's not that I haven't been thinking, Lord knows that would be near impossible, but that I have been accidentally expressing myself through other avenues, so writing here would feel repetitive.  I always make fun of my mother for being repetitive, so I'll justify my absence with that.

       The definition of letting go and trusting in God becomes very physically, emotionally, and mentally apparent when you find yourself in the precise moment of uncomfortableness.  For example, I have a particular way of ordering my days, and when things, especially people, disrupt that order I tend to make sure that such rudimentary order is reinstated whether or not they need to be.  Because lets face it, nobody is going to die if they don't get to go where they want to go when they want to ...(in most cases).  If you're going to nit-pick at the meaning of that and argue about hospitalizations or abductions, go right ahead.  For everyone else who gets my point, let me continue by saying that I had the most awful headache (migraine?) today after my early morning bible study.  I had made plans, which by the way give me heaps of anxiety, with a very dear friend of mine after the study.  I tend to steer away from plan, but find them necessary as well in order to keep my anxieties at bay.  However, I am learning that regardless of my plans, anxiety itself must be done away with at it's root.  So, whether I  make plans or not, I am relying on God to bring me freedom from such illusory panic attacks.  It doesn't make sense (to me, at least) why one would have anxiety over meeting someone, but I do, and I don't want to.  So I'm riding the uncomfortable boat that makes me seasick (literally) towards the unknown, hoping and praying that I don't get eaten up by sharks along the way, which is how it feels like even when the boat I'm in is actually a rubber tube in my backyard swimming pool.  Talk about irrational fears.


       So here I am, post migraine, and grateful for the time I got to spend with my dear friend.  Of course for the first 10 minutes I was in physical agony, not showing it externally, but I prayed in my mind that the headache would subside, and that I would stop thinking about wanting to get away.  Somewhere along the conversation, which at first felt forced and obsolete due to throbbing in my head, I felt better and even stimulated by what she had to say.  Of course I did, she's a brilliant mind, and I admire her, so really it was more about me getting over myself and asking God to give me peace about the situation, in essence to give Him control of my time.  I probably only wanted to get out of there as soon as I could because that would mean I was doing what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it, versus respecting the fact that she had made time to see me making it a mutual exchange.  I can be so selfish a lot of the times, and if I don't write about it I usually will not recognize it.

       This laying down of oneself and trusting in God is quite the process.  Uncomfortable like airplane seats or using a bathroom stall with a broken lock.  But when I relinquish my fears about control, I find a genuine freedom so peculiar in it's nature of logic.  I no longer fear that I will not have enough time, because time is not mine to have in the first place.  Therefore the time I am given, with whomever I am with is a gift to be thankful for.  It is only when I become selfish into thinking I must get mine with the time I have that I begin to panic and have a difficult time enjoying what is so clearly a blessing (ie: friends, food, places, etc).  Oh how I desire to make Jesus all that I need, so that in every situation I can praise Him and be thankful, trusting that whether the immediate present feels good or not that in the end it will be exactly what I needed to produce a genuine joy for my life.

       This becomes especially difficult when it involves other people, and that's why I feel inclined to be a hermit.  It's easier on a surface level, but detrimental to my overall well being because I need love as much as I need food and water, where one nourishes my physical body the other nourishes my soul, and are we not made of both soul and body?  I would even go so far as to say that nourishment of the soul is more important than the other since it is eternal.  Firstly, I must lay down any expectations of others in order to love them the way I am loved by Christ.  The reason I love Christ is because He loves me the way He does (continuously regardless of my reciprocation), so would it not also go that if I love others the way He loves me then that same veracity would uphold those relationships as well?  Indeed, to love someone regardless of how they love you in return is the first step to a real relationship.  Then to have wisdom in the actions that follow such love is what follows.  You can love someone and not spend time or see them if that is what will benefit the both of you, but these decisions must stem from genuine concern for the other person, and not because you yourself feel gypped in the exchange.

       My stomach is all twisty from this morning's migraine incident.  However, I am grateful for the peace God gave me through that.  The less I let the struggle bother me, the more I can lean on Jesus to be my strength...and His strength defies death itself.  So ...that pretty much makes me, in Jesus, indestructible.

-J
     

Letter to God

Dear God,

    Hello from earth.  I am writing You because I'd like to get to know You more.  There are a few things I wanted to tell You, even though I'm sure You know them already...which is crazy, but I will write them out anyway because it helps me to be able to write things down.  Anyway, I sense that lately I am slightly fuzzy about what I could do to bring You glory.  I know what I shouldn't do, so perhaps I should start there, but I'm very weak, and even the things I shouldn't do need to be replaced with things I should do, so once again I need to know what to do. Haha.  I hope I will be able to hear what You are telling me, whether in my prayers or through another person or during the quiet thoughtful moments while I read your Word.  I'd really like to know, though, regardless of how...well, hopefully how I find out will not be some painful way either, but if it is please give me the wisdom and perseverance to hear and obey You.  I get confused when I think it's You guiding me to go somewhere or do something and when it's just me trying to create some sort of drastic change in scenery.  I'd like to go where You guide me, so please make it apparent to me that it's You and not me.
       Also, if I may ask, please guide me where I will have a ton of adventure and freedom from myself.  Teach me to put others well being before my own (or as much as my own), and to find joy in the work that I do that pivots on my love for You.  Help me not to be lazy, self-deprecating, selfish, greedy, or apathetic.  Please make me compassionate, generous, honest, and gentle.  Please answer my prayer before the week ends, if that's not too much to ask.  There are a few deadlines I need to act on, and I know You can extend or miraculously change things like that, so if that's the case then please ease my mind in that regard.

       I hope we can start to get to know each other more, although You already know me perfectly, I think it helps me to think that we are both in this process together.  So, I guess it's more like help me to get to know You better in a transactional way...like You talk, I listen, I talk You listen, and so forth.  Cool.  Ok, thanks for hearing me out.  I'll write You again soon.  :)  Love You

awkwardly in anticipation,
Jamie