Faith story. I don't like that term. To me, it implies work on our behalf to get to Jesus. I think it sounds like it's implying too much on our behalf. What made me come to this decision? I don't know. I guess just being lonely. To you, that doesn't quite make sense, but let me explain. All of my friends are getting married. I'm just getting tattoos. I just saw a first dance at a reception on Saturday. It was so beautiful that it almost made me cry. I don't cry. I think crying is stupid and messy and it gives me headaches. I've only cried during 3 movies. Mrs. Doubtfire, Men in Black 3, and The Princess and The Frog. But to see two people so in love get to share a beautiful moment together just made me tear up.
All that to say, I'm lonely. I miss being pursued. Every girl longs to be pursued. I was thinking about this as I rode my bike to church today after youth Sunday. Oh yeah! Today was youth Sunday! I led worship today with my youth band! I always get nervous leading worship in "big people church" because I feel this pressure to be someone I'm not. I feel the need to be formal and impactful and speak the word of God so that I convict and bring people to tears. I need to invoke a response... any response out of the congregation. I'm so afraid I'll say something stupid or accidentally blaspheme, or stumble and stutter my way through something stupid to say. I feel like Moses. He was slow of speech. I'm sometimes slow of thought. I don't articulate my thoughts very well. I know what I want to say, but it doesn't always come out right.
I read about how Moses told the burning bush he couldn't lead the Isrealites out of Egypt. God said "Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say." Exodus 4:11-12.
So that was... somewhat comforting, but I still wasn't convinced. I asked God to give me a sign as obvious as a flaming plant on youth Sunday to show me that worship leading is something He is calling me to do with the rest of my life because so far, all it was doing was causing me so much stress and feeding my insecurities. I kept reading and internally freaking out about how I was going to mess up the worship on Sunday and completely distract people from the presence of God. Then I read this: "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14.
Pretty sneaky, God. I love this verse because it applies to so so much in my life right now. The internal battle going on inside me, all the stress that worship leading puts me through, my fight for control, my fight against my insecurities. We are all in a battle. The human nature is "fight or flight" it's one or the other. But the bible says to go against your human instinct and just let go. My mind pictured me in a bunch of knight armor in the heat of battle, and then I just lay down my weapons and take off my helmet and armor. Do you see the risk in letting someone else fight a battle for you? You're completely exposed! You run the risk of having a spear or sword run through you. Or your head chopped off! (My imagination makes me laugh sometimes. I seriously did imagine being beheaded.) But not with God. God never loses a battle. Trust me. I've fought him many times. So right then and there, after I read that verse, I prayed. I let go of my insecurity. I let go of the worries about youth Sunday. I let God fight that battle for me. And guess what? Youth Sunday went really well. It was the most fun I've had ever leading worship in "big people church." It felt eerily natural which I've never felt before. Even with some powerpoint problems and some awkward issues with my mic stand, it all went so smoothly that I know for a fact God was in complete control. God either works with me or in spite of me. He orchestrated the whole thing, and I just happened to be an instrument in it. That made me feel awesome.
There is something so freeing about knowing you aren't in control and God is. It's peaceful and awesome. So anyway, back to whatever I originally set out to talk about... ummmm.... now I have to look back at the beginning of my post to check, because I totally forgot... Oh! Being pursued. Right now, I desperately want to be pursued. Like so much, it's unhealthy. I want to be pursued by all the boys. All. The. Boys. I just want to know that I'm worth it. I want approval. That I'm worthy of being pursued. Then, while I was biking home today, telling God how much I wanted to be pursued, I realized.... God's been pursuing me this whole time. My entire life even. He chose me and He approves of me, and He is pursuing me with a holy passion. Even in my darkest moments when I denied God. Even in the moments where I would try to play God in my own life. Even when I chose worthless idols over the Almighty. Even now while I complain about not feeling pursued!
I look back at everything I've experienced in my life, and I see God in ALL of it. I mean, every single moment. And it brings me to tears. I've been chosen. It's never meant so much to me before in all my life. God chose ME. Even though I'm selfish and immature and irresponsible and absent minded and proud and controlling and sarcastic and fickle and impatient and SO STINKING SPITEFUL. God CHOSE me. Why? Because underdogs are God's specialty. He loves me. I'm a lovable underdog. I feel so blessed and undeserving. That's how this grace thing works I guess.
So back to this whole "faith story" thing. I don't like it. I want to call it something else. I want to call it "the story of God's pursuit of a sinner and how she finally gave in," but that's too long of a title. I just don't want people to look at me and say, that girl was searching for Jesus and finally found him. Because let's get one thing straight, I wasn't ever searching for Jesus. I was searching for fulfillment and purpose in every avenue other than Jesus. Jesus pursued me. I did nothing of my own power to come to my faith in Jesus. My story is just a story of how my brokenness brought me to my knees at the foot of the cross. I didn't do anything to find Jesus. He found me. And praise the Lord; I saw the Light.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Friday, July 5, 2013
Phat, but with an f
I think it is safe to say I am out of the pit. Or I'm at least in the process of pulling myself out of the pit. Now I'm kind of... I don't know... wary I guess is the word. Wary of moving forward. I'm exhausted from all I've been through. Absolutely exhausted. My excitement for the day I leave for Colorado is clouded by the utter shell shock of the past year.
In my weary state, all I want to do is rest. I want to rest in things like movies and tv shows and internet. These things give my brain a chance to check out and numb the pain. But I know that is not the answer. It's time to rest in the Lord. He says to come to Him, all who are weary and heavy laden, and He will give us rest. So I guess the first step in this process would be to go to the Lord.
With camp coming up, I'm not feeling that usual sense of excitement. I'm scared. I'm scared I'm going to screw everything up. I'm scared I will not make camp as impactful as it should be. Every year has been so successful that I feel all this pressure to exceed that expectation. What I'm forgetting is that all that success did not come from the work I did. It came from the Lord. Instead of relying on my strengths to make camp awesome, I need to rely on God. If I try to make camp better than last year, than I've already missed the point of camp.
Now so far my summer has not nearly been as cool as last year. I've just been going to work and church and home. For the fourth of July, I saw my dad which has become too rare of an occasion in my life. I stayed with him and had a wonderful time. I went to the Blues Fest in Davenport with my friend Gretchen and experienced some REAL music. I only regret using the time I set aside to see my dad to do something else with someone else. I feel really bad about that. What little time we spend together is already so precious, and I just took away from that.
There hasn't been a drive home from my father's in which I haven't cried. Every single stinking time I leave I hate it. I hate not knowing when I'll see my dad again. I just want to go eat something to make me feel better. Oh that's another little parasite that has been gnawing at my brain. I've gained weight since last summer. I've gained about 10 lbs and I can see it. Every time I see a picture of me from last summer, I feel so embarrassed at how I look now.
Here's a life lesson to all you insecure women out there: If you have insecurities about yourself at 220 lbs, you will still have the same insecurities at 140 lbs. Just because the weight goes away, doesn't mean the problem does. In addition to the heartache I experience when I look at a thinner version of myself, every time I hate on myself for gaining weight, I beat myself up for not accepting myself for who I am at whatever weight I happen to be. How messed up is that?? It just makes me sad at my broken state.
Oh and boys, here's a little lesson for you as well: DON'T EVER CALL A WOMAN FAT. EVER. (Okay so obviously there is some deep seeded pain from personal experience coming out here. A boy called me fat in front of my whole youth group, my youth pastor, my small group leader, and all my friends, and no one stood up for me. That happened in middle school, and I'm still not over it yet. That's how much it hurt.) Don't call a woman fat. Even if she's the skinniest person in the world, and she may know it. She still has insecurities and you will only be feeding them. She will hate herself and carry those issues around for the rest of her life. Nothing breaks down a woman more than being made fun of. Period. Now I cannot blame my bully completely for my problems. I'm not a complete victim here. There's an old saying: Inside every person is two dogs fighting each other. One is good, and one is evil. The dog that wins is the dog you feed more. It's ultimately your choice ladies, but men... Come on. Don't be douchebags. I obviously have some forgiveness issues here. Phew, shake it off Erin.
In order to feed the good dog, I'm going to need some divine intervention. I can't just be better at talking myself up. I can't just try harder at loving myself. That's not how the soul works. It's trusting that there is nothing I can do on my own to better myself and trusting God to help me.
On a lighter, more miracle based note, God is providing for me. I've been praying for the means to buy myself a new laptop, and God just gave me a laptop. My cousin gifted it to me, even though he was going to sell it and use the money to buy a much needed car for him and his family. I am so blessed, my cousin David is truly a blessing, and God is so awesome. I'll just end this on that note and try to get my buns to bed now. Goodnight everyone. God bless.
In my weary state, all I want to do is rest. I want to rest in things like movies and tv shows and internet. These things give my brain a chance to check out and numb the pain. But I know that is not the answer. It's time to rest in the Lord. He says to come to Him, all who are weary and heavy laden, and He will give us rest. So I guess the first step in this process would be to go to the Lord.
With camp coming up, I'm not feeling that usual sense of excitement. I'm scared. I'm scared I'm going to screw everything up. I'm scared I will not make camp as impactful as it should be. Every year has been so successful that I feel all this pressure to exceed that expectation. What I'm forgetting is that all that success did not come from the work I did. It came from the Lord. Instead of relying on my strengths to make camp awesome, I need to rely on God. If I try to make camp better than last year, than I've already missed the point of camp.
Now so far my summer has not nearly been as cool as last year. I've just been going to work and church and home. For the fourth of July, I saw my dad which has become too rare of an occasion in my life. I stayed with him and had a wonderful time. I went to the Blues Fest in Davenport with my friend Gretchen and experienced some REAL music. I only regret using the time I set aside to see my dad to do something else with someone else. I feel really bad about that. What little time we spend together is already so precious, and I just took away from that.
There hasn't been a drive home from my father's in which I haven't cried. Every single stinking time I leave I hate it. I hate not knowing when I'll see my dad again. I just want to go eat something to make me feel better. Oh that's another little parasite that has been gnawing at my brain. I've gained weight since last summer. I've gained about 10 lbs and I can see it. Every time I see a picture of me from last summer, I feel so embarrassed at how I look now.
Here's a life lesson to all you insecure women out there: If you have insecurities about yourself at 220 lbs, you will still have the same insecurities at 140 lbs. Just because the weight goes away, doesn't mean the problem does. In addition to the heartache I experience when I look at a thinner version of myself, every time I hate on myself for gaining weight, I beat myself up for not accepting myself for who I am at whatever weight I happen to be. How messed up is that?? It just makes me sad at my broken state.
Oh and boys, here's a little lesson for you as well: DON'T EVER CALL A WOMAN FAT. EVER. (Okay so obviously there is some deep seeded pain from personal experience coming out here. A boy called me fat in front of my whole youth group, my youth pastor, my small group leader, and all my friends, and no one stood up for me. That happened in middle school, and I'm still not over it yet. That's how much it hurt.) Don't call a woman fat. Even if she's the skinniest person in the world, and she may know it. She still has insecurities and you will only be feeding them. She will hate herself and carry those issues around for the rest of her life. Nothing breaks down a woman more than being made fun of. Period. Now I cannot blame my bully completely for my problems. I'm not a complete victim here. There's an old saying: Inside every person is two dogs fighting each other. One is good, and one is evil. The dog that wins is the dog you feed more. It's ultimately your choice ladies, but men... Come on. Don't be douchebags. I obviously have some forgiveness issues here. Phew, shake it off Erin.
In order to feed the good dog, I'm going to need some divine intervention. I can't just be better at talking myself up. I can't just try harder at loving myself. That's not how the soul works. It's trusting that there is nothing I can do on my own to better myself and trusting God to help me.
On a lighter, more miracle based note, God is providing for me. I've been praying for the means to buy myself a new laptop, and God just gave me a laptop. My cousin gifted it to me, even though he was going to sell it and use the money to buy a much needed car for him and his family. I am so blessed, my cousin David is truly a blessing, and God is so awesome. I'll just end this on that note and try to get my buns to bed now. Goodnight everyone. God bless.
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