My "Yes" to God

Yesterday I was sitting in my bed, an open journal before me. I was reflecting on the will of God for my life versus the freedom that He allows me to walk in, feeling conflicted as to what was right. Sometimes living for Jesus is full of tension, and that is why faith was never about rules, but a relationship.

Sometimes I feel so terrified of missing it that I just sit and wait. On one hand, waiting can be wise. But waiting with fear as the fuel can waste away a perfectly good life. So yesterday I sat, the tension in me and all around me. My heart cry is always, “Just tell me what to do.” And, it seems in these moments of agonizing vulnerability, when I could really use a clear answer, that He becomes a silent God.

It frustrates and fascinates me. God tells me the quickest ways to get around town. He speaks to me while I do the dishes. He gives me clues about my kid’s hearts when they are withdrawn or hurting. He tells me how to pray for my husband. But, when I really need an answer, Nada.

Typically this is when I am tempted by human wisdom. I’ll make a nice and practical pros and cons list, or I’ll start thinking about money or time and overall what my capacity is to carry what I feel He is calling me to do. Yesterday I found myself in this place and all at once I said, “This thing is hard...” I just stayed on that thought. Then I thought, “It’s actually impossible...”

Of course, God’s quiet voice invaded my space, “Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it isn’t me.”

Now, I don’t mean to say conclusively that all hard things are from God and all simple things are human, but typically God does not call us to anything that can be done in our own strength. And, if I’m honest with myself, often I know exactly what God wants me to do, I just spend days or years wrestling with the concept because I remain impressed by the largeness of how hard it will be.

Even recently I was struggling with whether or not I should have more children. I feel very certain what God wants me to do. Yet all I can think about is how hard it will be to have another baby, how little sleep I already get, how overwhelmed I feel. The truth is, there is plenty of freedom to acknowledge my inadequacies and the fact that I have five other children to care for. Personally, though, I’ve felt a sense time and time again that while there is freedom to do what I want, avoiding something because it is inconvenient or difficult is not a valid excuse in the kingdom. If I don’t want more children, awesome. But, if I want more children but deny that urge because it’s hard, let’s just say I never start my decision-making process there. Several weeks ago I was reflecting on all of this and exploded to Paul, “Why do we have to do things the hard way? I don’t understand. Whyyyy?” It’s annoying to constantly be stretched, then fight and find stability, and just then feel a gentle tug from the Father to a new level of being stretched. Ouch. Yet I’ve made a decision to never say no to God because something is hard. I may tantrum and complain and write nasty notes in my journal. I may sit in my bed and bargain with the Bible opened to a verse on trust. Eventually, I surrender. Sometimes my life settles into normal and I get the sense God just wanted my heart. Then other times, I’m standing at my kitchen sink in Redding five years ago and God says, “Get ready. You’re moving.”

Years ago I wrote a blog on the significant impact of the faith of one person, based on Romans 6:18, "...But because one other person obeyed God, many will be made righteous." It challenged me then to be a person that says yes to God, no matter the cost. I believe the faith of one person can literally ignite a reformation and shift culture.

Lately, another revelation hit me as I read the story of the Roman officer in Matthew 8:5-13. Jesus was impressed by faith, like floored at the capacity this man had to trust God. This officer surprised God. I circled this story and wrote in the margin, “I want to impress God with my faith.” I want to be someone that makes the God of the universe stop in His tracks and say, “Wow. Okay, you can have exactly what you’ve believed for.”

I hope this is an honest blog, not just about my desire for extravagant faith, but about the wrestling process I often find myself in, the place between my yes and my humanity. I also want to be intentional to say that faith is not about living recklessly, but being recklessly surrendered to God. It’s a partnership. I’ve heard stories of families selling everything and arriving in foreign cities with their children and the clothes on their backs. God met them in extraordinary ways, paving their path safely one step at a time. Then, I’ve heard the flip side...the same exact story, but the family ends up with nothing, scrounging their way back home. The latter story makes me shudder. It’s the reason for my wrestle. God, don’t let me miss it.

At the same time, I think more people miss out on an incredible God adventure because they remain in fear of failure instead of seeing failure as a catalyst for growth. The truth is, the Bible is full of stories of people who were obedient to God and they still failed or didn't fulfill their mission. And yet, that still is not an excuse to abandon the promise [See Hebrews 11].

 Ah, well, enjoy my musings on life and faith and all the in-between mess of trust. I just want God to take my pain, my fear, my inadequacies and make something beautiful for His glory, because I can promise that any and all fruit in my life isn’t because I’ve done anything on my own, I’ve just said yes to Him over and over and over and over. It’s been so hard at times, yet I wouldn’t take it back, and that’s why I sit before Him in agony and anticipation and say with confidence, “You can have my yes again.”

Creativity in Process

     

Recently I’ve had a goal of open dialogue with my children, engaging their hearts, hungry for honest answers. Children are unfiltered in the best sort of way, depending on what they are asked.

I like to ask what sorts of qualities make them unique, what they feel God is doing in our city, in our church, in their hearts. Otherwise it is all too easy to skate on through the day, doing life right at their side, hardly seeing them. How is that even possible? It baffles me. Being intentional is key, not just harboring good intention in my heart. [This chapter in my life entitled, "Things it Took me a Decade of Parenting to Figure Out.]

So, yesterday I asked my wise 10-year-old son, “What does the world need more of?” Without hesitation, he said, “Me!” I loved his unrehearsed answer so much. Even this morning it was percolating in my heart. I was challenged to say the same about myself, “the world needs more of ME!” Except I don’t often feel that way, at least not for now. I look in the mirror and see someone agonizingly in process, at war with perfection, on a trajectory towards wholeness. And, yet deep in my heart, I know my son’s answer is right. The world needs more of each of us, exactly as we are.

I remember a friend telling me that when I was honest about my process in a room full of people, it shifted something in the atmosphere that caused others to share. I was like, “Um...I don’t want that gift. That’s not a good gift.” Vulnerability is hard! Why is this my gift? However, as I’ve begun to embrace it, I've seen fruit in my life and others. So, here is what I want to say: I am worthy of love exactly as I am, and so are you. Whoever you are, wherever you are...you matter.

Recently I walked out of my house, an utter disaster after a full week of all five of my children having the throw-up bug, along with my husband and I. A coffee date with a friend was on the calendar for the morning. I stood in my kitchen and took in the full sink of dishes, the laundry pile that was mounting, the table stacked high with papers and I smiled with the thought, “I love myself.” Right smack dab in the middle of my mess. Why? Because I do. Because God does. Because this isn’t my stopping place, and because community matters more in the moment than a tidy house. I can't afford to get my identity from performance (my productivity) when actually it comes from the fact that I'm a human and I have value. As I've begun to love myself in process, I don't stay where I'm at. Instead, it causes me to bravely look at all areas of my life and acknowledge any shortcomings free of shame. Then I can actually grow. 

This idea broke through to me as my daughter and I drew pictures together. Am I talented artist? Not by any respectable artist’s standards. But, I love to draw so I do it.

 My daughter erased her creation over and over and over until at last, it caught my eye. I started with, “Isn’t drawing fun?” She said, “No, it’s not. It’s very stressful for me.” Now, my daughter has more natural talent in her pinkie finger than I do in all of my body! She continued with, “Doesn’t it upset you?” I said, “No, it doesn’t because my goal isn’t perfection. My goal is to create something that only I can create. No one else in the world can draw this flower like I can.” I literally amazed myself at that moment because I realized how far I'd come. Now, my daughter considered my answer and continued to copy a photo meticulously. I kept happily scribbling away. I’m not downplaying excellence and perseverance because that is important to progress, but my point is, creative expression is not about perfection as much as giving the world what only you can create. Giving the world more of YOU. The challenge is often waiting until you’ve achieved perfection to do that, and it’s just not possible. Don’t wait for perfection. Produce and create something only YOU can.

Last week the kids and I read the story of Watt’s Tower. Have you heard it? An Italian Immigrant had a dream of creating “Something Big.” He worked six days a week and long hours at a tile factory and began to save scraps. Then, when he’d spot other items most considered trash, he’d take it home. Over time he mixed concrete to create sculptures from his trash, some towering to 90 feet! Most people considered him crazy, not able to speak clear English, treasuring junk. But, his towers made of trash became works of art, a local landmark moved into the city. Now, he is considered a genius. 

He called his work, “Something Big,” because that is what he always wanted to create. What if he would have seen himself as everyone else did? Poor immigrant. Babbling fool. Unimportant. I’m not sure how he saw himself, but regardless, he didn’t care. He still created.

So, I meditate on these stories of people who pressed on despite their process, people who had every excuse in the world to live a quiet life without expressing themselves. Not that everyone must have a Magnum Opus (shameless Charlotte’s Web reference), but the point is, you are the Magnum Opus. You are worth exploring the depths of your own heart and expressing it in some way, and this ability is intricately connected to your ability to love yourself. I think of the brilliant bumper sticker that never ceases to put a smile on my face, “The Earth without Art is just Eh.” And, art is not just paint-to-paper, it’s creative expression and each person on this planet is brimming with it. Why? Because the Creator is and you bear His image, His brilliant, fearless image. I love that when God created He looked at His creation and was like, “This is good.” Now, I realize He is perfection itself but I wouldn’t necessarily call everything he created my cup of tea (spiders? FREAKING, WHY???????). But, He liked it.

So, I give you permission to like what you create because it’s your own, to love yourself in the imperfection. The world needs more of you, Friend. It needs more of me, too. Show me what you got and I promise to love it because I love you, because you matter.