Confessions of a Forgotten Journal...

I was really struggling. I wasn't depressed, but I felt..... worthless. A few friends had posted some exciting news and I was happy for them, but yet I was once again reminded of how everybody's lives are coming together and moving forward and mine just feels, well.... stagnant. I'd like to say I have ambition, but truth is I don't anymore. I've run out. I'd like to say I know what I want to do and have the motivation to do it, but truth is I don't. I don't want to put in the work anymore because it has amounted to absolutely nothing. All that time and energy filling out job applications, trying to get into classes, for what? I've found myself the past few days being so sick of my circumstances, but yet having absolutely no desire to change them. I wish jobs just fell out of the sky. I wish friendships weren't so much work to maintain. I wish I could go back to being 130 pounds when I thought I was fat. I wish I knew whether to pursue nursing, psychology, or teaching. I wish I had a money tree and could pursue things without any road blocks by either my finances or stupid laws of the California education system. I wish I could get up and move to Tennessee. I really do. Or maybe South Carolina. But most of all I wish that I didn't have to wish and that something- ANYTHING would happen. I wish I had hope. I wish I knew what to do about it. 

These were the thoughts that were going through my mind last night when I was sitting on my bed staring off into space. Through blurry teared vision I glanced over at my television. "Maybe I'll just watch some tv and get my mind off things." That's why I love books so much. They transport me out of my life. But upon my mini staring contest with my television (I lost by the way) I noticed my old prayer journal sitting there. It had a sufficient science experiments worth of dust collected on it. You could say it's been a while since I talked to God about myself. I pray for others. Those prayers get answered. But I quit praying for myself. Those prayers never got answered. So my journal has sat there for a while to say the least. But I thought, "Ah, what the heck?" I picked up the journal and began to write. A page and a half later I finished. Discouraged, I really didn't feel much better after, like I remembered usually feeling after finishing a journal entry. Was it because God felt so distant? Yeah, I think so. Was it because I really didn't even know what to pray about? Mhmm. Was it because I doubted my circumstances would change? I'd be lying if I said no. 

So there I was, my pencil led shaved down quite a bit and my journal entry finished.  No better off than before I started. Just for kicks I flipped to the beginning of the journal, remembering how back in the day I used to enjoy looking through old entries to see what had changed. And sure enough, just as I predicted, I found a few good laughs over prayers to get over old crushes. Man was I boy crazy. RIP the hopeless romantic me. It also contained some old sermon notes and even song lyrics that had touched me. And then I came to something really interesting. I don't really know why my eye caught it, it just did. It was an old journal dated way back to March 17, 2011. I was a sophomore in college at the time. The circumstances were different than now, but as I read I was amazed at how much the words in that entry echoed what I had just dotted down. I've been through this before? Hmm, didn't recall that. 

What struck me though wasn't that journal entry. It was actually a few pages over. It was dated April 5th and another April 6th, 2011. I had written down two quotes I'd heard or read- I can't remember which:

1. "When a wound is infected a doctor may stop the infection by cauterizing it. He takes a red hot tool and sears it, burning away the rotten flesh and leaving only what can be healed. God does this to us. He did it to Isaiah in Isaiah 6:6-7. It is a DRASTIC method and it hurts like hell. But once it's done, the only thing left is the part that can heal."
2. "Rachel, everything that happens in your life- good and bad- passes through My sovereign hand. If I allow it, I have a reason for it. There is more at stake here than your present circumstances. I care more about your character than your comfort. Nothing separates you from my love. I'm for you. If I'm for you, who can be against you? Give me time to work. -God"

Do I need to say more? Maybe I should read over old entries more often...

Confessions of a Warmed Heart...

So there I was. Picture the seen if you will. Pajamas. Mug of green tea. Getting all nice and cozy in my Shamu blanket- don't judge- with my pup resting on my toes. Just perusing facebook like I normally do at odd hours of the day. When a video on my news feed caught my eye. It was titled, "If you're alive you might have your dad to thank." Puzzled, I began watching as a series of short videos unfolded before my eyes. I watched video after video of a father's quick reflexes saving their kids from falling off of swing sets, getting hit by baseballs, falling off of the couch, etc. I was amused, entertained, and amazed. So there I was, contentedly watching these videos and all of a sudden they turned rather serious. Father's were saving their kids lives from runaway cars, drowning in a pool, aggressive dogs, speeding down a hill and crashing into a brick wall, and many others. Well, crybaby that I am I was really touched. So much so that by the end of it I was crying. I blame hormones. But needless to say it really warmed my heart seeing not only these father's quick reflexes, but also just how selfless they were in these acts. I saw dads jumping in front of their kids without any regard for their own lives. They didn't know if it would work. They didn't know if they would be killed in the crossfire. They didn't care. 

I feel like dads today get a bad rap in a lot of ways. And some of them is because they've never done anything to deserve the title of father. It can make it seemingly hard to relate then to a perfect heavenly father. Because even those who are lucky to have a good earthly father know he's not perfect either. One of the hardest parts about getting older is you become ever more increasingly aware of the faults of your parents. Hard when you've idolized them so much as a kid. 

I've been in church my whole life. I've heard an altar call every Sunday. I've quoted John 3:16 more times than I care to remember about God loving the world so much he sent his Son to die. I'm no stranger to it. I know Christ paid the ultimate price for my sins. I know He gave up his life for mine. But I think I've become so numb to hearing it, its lost the weight it once had. It happens to many of us. And then we watch movies like The Passion of the Christ and we're reminded of the horrific death. And it humbles us when we once again realize how awful it was. And I'm not discrediting those experiences, but I know for me sometimes I focus so much on the cross, so much on the act of the death itself, or on the other extent, so much of the freedom gained because of it, that I lose sight of WHO was dying. I lose sight of a perfect and sovereign God who chose that His son would die for a sinful and fallen world. I lose sight of the fact that Jesus was no stranger to the horrificness of the cross. That He knew every detail about His death. That he knew the car was coming and that it would strike and kill him. And yet, he did it anyway. Why? To push me out of the way. He looked at us and said, "Better me than them." Thats humbling. Really humbling. But thats not the end of the story. My father didn't just die in my place. He didn't just push me out of the way. He destroyed the car. He completely obliterated it so it would never threaten me again. I am not now, nor will I ever be again condemned by my sins. Its done! 

Watching that video warmed my heart. Reflecting on the sacrifice of the cross and the aftermath of it brings me to my knees.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are." -1John 3:1