The Walking Wounded

"The Walking Wounded"
This is exactly how I feel. Mike said this phrase the other day at the Rock to describe a lot of us who moved here to Lincoln.  Day in and day out the devil hasn't relented. I fight off his attacks and get back up, yet still bruised and bleeding. Walking this road I can't see the end in sight. The pathway goes on with twists and turns that I can't predict. The unknown is scary. We have a Savior by our side that says He hold us in His hands and knows the plans He has for us, and yet my heart still pounds as I curve toward the next bend in the road. My faith still trembles when I know it should stand firm in His promise. Thoughts wander when they should be fixed upon His words.  "We are all just one step away." It sent shivers through me as I heard this from Mike as he was praying. I am just one step away. I am not immune. I am not strong on my own. If I don't seek Him, if I don't pick up my cross, I will be taken out. This is a reality I humbly need to be aware of. Praise the Lord that He is my strength, my help, and my hope!

HE is faithful

"Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it"
1 Thessalonians 5:24

On Thursday I went to McDonalds with Linc and Doc as I babysat for LG for Hannah and Shane.  After eating our meal (which takes a VERY long time when you are distracted with such a fun play place right in the other room) we headed off to play.  Immediately when they crawled into the play place they began to meet kids and quickly formed friendships with each other. This one little boy and particular started to join in chasing monsters around with Linc and Doc. He even came and gave Linc a hug saying sorry for pushing him.

What amazes me is how quickly children form these bonds.  They're so quick to trust. Unlike us their guard isn't up sky high for someone to climb over and gain. They don't build up walls keeping people out. Instead they have such a childlike faith. I often think about how the Lord asks us, as well, to have this type of faith. Trust is something that we have had broken so many times, that it becomes hard for us to even allow our hearts to trust our Savior.

Forming friendships here has been more difficult than I thought.  Even after 4 months here I feel like I am still in the process of getting to know these girls on a very basic level. I don't have those close friends that I can go to here. They are being built, but still not there yet.  Trying to bind these bonds of fellowship and at the same time reach out to the lost has been somewhat exhausting. My brain feels like it's on overload most of the time.  I lie down at night tired physically, mentally, and spiritually.  I long for some comfort of friends on this road, but right now my comfort must be found purely in Christ alone. If He has the power to move mountains, form this universe, and raise Christ from the dead, then He must have the power to give me strength in this walk.

Last night we had all church prayer. I was so sick, but I knew my soul needed to be with the saints.  Ben shared Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2     He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3     he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
    for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
    through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
    forever.

As he read this psalm tears started flowing.  Reading this, I was overwhelmed by my Saviors peace, protection and comfort that He gives in the midst of "the darkest valley". He is enough. I lack nothing. Even though I walk through darkness, my cup can overflow.

Then he asked these questions:
1. What things are distracting you right now? What anxious thoughts that you need to yield to the Lord?
2. What ways do you need the Lord to renew your strength in at this moment?
3. What fears are you facing right now that He can help you with?

For each of these questions, there was a billion things that were capturing my thoughts, so many fears, so much that was pulling me down. I am a woman with many fears. And I often allow these fears to take hold and devour my thoughts. But the Lord has and is continuing to teach me to yield them all to Him and to trust with that childlike faith.  He has shown me time and time again that He is faithful. And I must allow my heart to rest in that promise.

your God will come.

I'm feeling ambitious this week…two blog posts! Writing just has a way of calming my soul.  I've decided I want to chronicle this journey to Lincoln. There has been so many challenges that I never expected. I knew it wouldn't be an easy road, but I definitely didn't think rocky path was the way the Lord would take me. Now there is goodness and encouragement in it, but I think my eyes weren't quite open to the roughness that this road would produce. When I thought of a church plant, my mind thought of all the glorious things about it…the beginning of a church, watching it grow, seeing God move in big and mighty ways. All of that is glorious. But what I didn't realize was the mud and dirt mixed all around that. The tiring and weary days of working for the Lord, but seeing very little. Knowing that just like those heroes of the faith before me, I may only "welcome it from a distance." And to still believe that the Lord is good.
This week has been harder than most.  I miss home. Not just in a "aww I miss this or that"…yeah that's part of it. But in a deep longing in my heart miss home. Some days its easier and some days harder, but this week has been a constant struggle for joy. It's one of those weeks where the rain just won't let up, day in and day out the storm remains.  I look up to the heavens, weary of it, but can't find any light shining through the clouds. Going out early each morning to push the plough, the bitter cold burrows into my skin,  leaving me shivering in its midst. I feel my hands slipping more and more as I try to keep a firm grip. Trying to hold on, trying to remember what I'm here for.
Sometimes I just feel forgotten…but I'm sure we all feel like that at some point. And I must remember that He never will. My hands drop to my sides, too weary to raise any higher. I look up once again at the cloudy sky. Hoping, wishing, praying for some relief.
"Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, 'Be strong, do not fear; your God will come'" Isaiah 35:3.
He will come. The sky will break through with sun one day…maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but there is hope in His words.  He will come. 
So lifting my tired eyes once more, I fix my gaze toward heaven. I will watch for You.
I will have hope.

"The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom…Water will gush forth from the wilderness and streams in the desert" Isaiah 35:1,5

A step of faith…into the great unknown

At times I'm so aware of this gruesome fight we're in, so enveloped in war, my eyes focused, ready, and trained.  I hear verses like "Be on alert…" or "be steadfast" and I stand at my watchtower, listening for his tactics.  Ready for a fight at a moments notice.  But then there's those times I lose my focus. I long for peace and rest and think that if I just take a moment, just lay down my sword for a second, that the enemy won't notice. Naively, I wish for a break from the war. I want a life of ease. Wishing for things simply because they would mean an easier road. But the Lord stands in the way of these silly plans I make and says to me "Megan, will you do this for me? Will you truly lay down your life for me?" Of course my heart jumps up and says "Yes Lord, Yes!" But then comes fork in the road, the place were the two paths separate from one another. To choose the life of ease? Or lay down my wants, plans, everything, to follow Him?  It is there that my faith is truly tested. It is there were I must make the hard decision that denies my selfish flesh. But the battle doesn't end there. As I walk down the narrow road, the devil continues his persistent temptations. "Just walk back to the wide road, life will be so much easier" he whispers to my ears. All his ideas sound so pleasant to my weary soul. The thought rolls through my mind, twisting and turning through my brain until the idea almost seems to be okay with the Lord. Almost. As I pick up my foot about to pivot in place, returning to where I had come from, the Lord shouts my name louder than I've ever heard him speak before. And instantly the realization of what I'm doing hits my mind. I stop dead in my tracks. And I know I cannot turn back to the easy road. Even if this narrow road I'm on means a constant battle every day.  Continuing on I hear him asking time and time again…"Do you trust me Megs?" or "Do you believe I have your good in mind?" or "Do you truly believe I'm all you need?" At times my answer is a weak "No, but help me to believe." Sometimes, well, most of the time right now, that's all I can offer Him. But I know he sees my heart, my longing to believe His promises. My little feeble faith. And he says "if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain jump." My faith may be as small as a mustard seed right now, but I know, I must believe, that He is pleased with that little seed. And that is what I will hold on to.

...take up your cross and follow Me...

As soon as He opened my eyes I saw it.  I knew what I must do.  At the time it did not seem such a hard task.  Compared to what I had been carrying, this seemed painless.  The moment I asked Him to take it, the chains I once carried, He lifted it off so effortlessly.  Freedom taking its place.  He showed me His yoke. 

And it is there that He asked me to begin to walk.

I marched on over to this cross He had made for me.  Only one cross stood for me to take.   He delicately crafted it each piece of this cross specifically for me.  Carefully I lifted it onto my back.  But it was not as I expected it to be.  It was not made smooth and light as feathers.  My mind had created images of how this cross would feel.  But this was not what I anticipated.  Instead the sticks cut into my hands, the wood thrusted into my shoulder as I tried to maneuver its weight.  Stumbling around I tried to regain my balance.  Although lighter than my burden before, this was different. 

 Just a little distance ahead of me I see a man.

I watch as He walks to the cross that wasn’t there just a few minutes before.  On His hands the scars still remain.  I watch as those same hands that were bloodied and bruised for me, pick up the cross.  This man doesn’t act as if this is an easy load.  But He does not reproach the load He’s been asked to carry either.  He simply picked it up and started walking.  As He begins to stride down the road I see Him stop for a second.  He turns around and gazes back at me.  With a wave of His hand, he motions for me to follow Him. 

And there I choose to follow this man’s example.  I trail behind Him, imitating what He does.  If this man carries His cross, so should I. 

Down the road we continue with me still following His example.  We cross through rivers, streams, mud, and dirt together.  With each obstacle, my heart pounds and doubts flood through my head.  But with each one I know that He is ahead of me.  He shows me that I can make it through because I know that He has gone before me.  With each step He reminds me of the day when the cross will be laid down.  The promise of what’s ahead lightens the load in the present moment.  His voice echoes back to me such sweet words that keep my feet steady.

Each night I lay down my cross as we rest.  And every morning as the sun begins to rise into the vibrant sky, the choice remains once again before me.  To pick it up and continue down this road or leave it where it stands.  It is a struggle each and every time.  Some days easier than other, but each time, fighting back my flesh, I carefully lift it back unto my shoulders by His grace alone. 

Along way, I glance at the sky, painted with sun rays that cascade down on my face.  The birds chirping around me remind me once again of Your goodness.  The cross I carry no longer seems so heavy.  Its weight still pushing down on me, but no longer the discontentment I felt at carrying it. 

We run beside one another, joy with each step.  Excited to go on this path together.  The fears pass each time with just a glimpse at You.  The doubts that creep in are swayed by Your words.  

But slowly the sunny landscape around me begins to turn gloomy.  These skies that used to shout out Your love by their very presence, no longer declare this truth.  I must diligently search to revive what You’ve told me deep inside. 

It feels as if my feet can’t go on.  Every muscle feels the weight that I carry.  My neck aches, my back strains, and my whole body pounds.  This cross seems to get heavier with each step that I take. 

And Your image seems to be fading quickly by the fog overtaking the air.  I must strain my eyes to keep You in my sight.  If I can’t follow You, I don’t know how I would continue on.  How am I supposed to keep walking if I can’t see You to follow?

I feel the anxiety creep in.  The rain pelts down on my face slowly dripping off my chin.  I grasp on to this cross tighter than before so afraid that if for one second if I loosen my grip, I’ll never pick it back up.  My pale white hands shake uncontrollably from the strain.  My whole body shivers from the ice cold winds that pierce deep into these bones.

This rock that I stand on now seems to be crumbling away.  No longer is it firm.  No longer is it secure.  Soon the crumbling reaches my feet beneath me and knocks me to the ground.  The waves from the ocean reach my head.  They crash over me with such a force that my face collides with the mud below.  I struggle to stand under the power of the sea.  Each time I make it to my feet again, I’m struck right to the ground once again. 

Everything about me feels dark.  The air around lifeless.  The wind breathes its harsh bitter lies into me.  Your light which shone so radiantly before, on longer breaks through the darkness.  I search and search for You, but in vain. 

Have you left me here to fend for myself?  Have you forgotten about your precious child?  Your child that You used to love?  Why did this firm foundation, I thought was You, begin to crumble?  You’re supposed to stand firm.  You’re supposed to be my rock. 

This place is lonely, Lord.  No one here with me in this storm.  No soul in sight.  Some know I’m here and their comforts help, but they bring no relief from this tempest that has come.  And still I lay in the midst of it.  Where are your promises?  Have you held out on me, Lord?  I need Your hand.  I need some word from You—even just a whisper.  If I could hear You, I could stand under this.  If I could feel you I would be strengthened.  If I could just touch You, I could remember that You are good and are for me.  But these lies are all that I see.  Nothing here talks about Your goodness.  Everything seems just the opposite. 

In my mind I wish I could throw this cross off.  I wish I could run far away from the burden it seems to bring.  Or maybe I would cave under its load. 

I feel each contour of the wood, as each splinter pierces my fragile skin.  Indentations as it rams into my back.  I imagine this wrought iron cross upon my back.  But I know it is simply a wooden cross that you have crafted for me.

And somehow, through Your power alone, I must choose to trust what You have said.  That You will not leave me.  That you are for me.  That You love me. 

Trembling I reach out my weak hand desperate for Your touch.  I need to feel You or hear You or see You.  Something Lord! 

And then I feel Your hand as You guide me back to You.  Your firm grip never letting go.  My heart finally slows reminded of Your presence.

But this storm still remains.  And my eyes still feel blinded.  Beside me you take me by the hand and lead me down the road.  Frightened, the panic begins to fill the air.  And again I must learn to trust where you take me. 

As those around me and You begin to mock, it makes this burden appear even heavier.  The load that I already cannot take, begins to crush me underneath.  But I watch as You continue on.  Even through all the stones they throw at You and Your cross, I see you persist.  Never once dismayed by the attacks at all sides.  The words that creep into my mouth, quickly I work to dissolve before they left destruction in their path.  I want to shout back at them.  But instead I follow Your example.  Silence remaining on my lips.  Each time these attacks come, Your lips pour out words to the One above. 

Somehow You maintain Your steps.  The prayers You lift up keep You fighting.  I know I have to follow Your example.  Words fall out of my mouth in desperation.  I need Your strength.  And I know only that comes from You. 

Others around me pass me with such ease.  Their crosses seem so much easier to bear.  While mine seems bitter and made of pure stone.  But I know this is simply a lie, like the thousands others the deceiver has whispered to me, hoping that I will give in to its deception.  I know that this is the weight You know I can carry.  You have not asked me to do something that I cannot do.  This is the cross you’ve asked me to carry.  And this load is so much lighter than the burden You took from me.  I must continue to remind myself of all that You have done.

And with You there is power.  With You I conquer these storms and lies. 

Each valley that we face I begin to love this cross I carry even more.  I would not trade it for the riches this world has to offer.  For this is my badge.  This is the one thing I can do for all that you’ve done for me.  It smells sweetly to Him, so I must gladly choose to find joy in the cross He has given me. 

Walking past the dead.

So I decided to start writing stuff on here again...I don't even know if anyone is on here anymore, but really I'm just writing this more for myself.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the lost people around us. As I sit here tonight trying my best to work on homework (clearly it's not working), I keep coming back to these thoughts. At lifegroup last Thursday, Melanie started talking about her family and how she needs to share with them. About how she cannot be silent when her family is going to hell. I couldn’t stop crying throughout the rest of lifegroup. I couldn’t stop thinking about my family. About how much it pains my heart that they don’t know His love. About how right now they are going to hell. I kept imagining us walking around with dead bodies all around us. We stumble over them, focused on what WE need to do or the places WE need to go. While here are these people as good as dead around us. Now I do and have had compassion for the lost, but yet somehow it gets lost in the day to day events. I somehow forget about this heart God has placed inside of me. This heart that is crumbling for those around me. I can’t just ignore the lifelessness surrounding me anymore. I can’t just be complacent. I can’t stand around while people around me are as good as dead.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

I need to pick up some chocolate chips to make some delicious cookies today (a recipe from my wonderful cousin). So I stopped at Walmart and got them and headed to the checkout. I thought for sure that it would be a checker who I've seen before, but it wasn't this time! I handed her a tract as I paid and she started to flip through it. There was no one in the checkout line behind me so she was still reading it as I left. Amen!