My heart hurts.
I don't know how else to say it. It isn't elegant, pretty, or descriptive. It's all I can muster. I've sat here trying to figure out how to write in a pretty way what feels absolutely hideous to my heart. And I can't get anything out. Because it just hurts.
It hurts to feel like relationships here are ending.
It hurts to hear others talk about the future with such certainty, knowing nothing of certainty in mine.
It hurts to watch others live a dream and take it for granted.
It hurts to feel like the people that are supposed to understand and the ones I want desperately to understand can't and just won't.
It hurts to know I have another transition to go through.
It hurts to feel stuck between two worlds.
It just hurts.
It's no one's fault. If anything, it's mine. I should accept this with joy, right? Sigh...
I'd like to say I'm there... but I'm not.
Because it just hurts too much.
Maybe joy will come after these tears.
Maybe.
Lately it's felt as if my heart is on one giant roller-coaster ride. Had I known it would have highs so high and lows so low, I would never have chosen to ride. There are moments when I am filled with anticipation and excitement at the prospect of coming home. Then, before I ever see it coming, the ride begins plummeting downward. All the sudden the excitement turns to sorrow, and I can't imagine saying goodbyes. I field questions regarding why I'm not coming back that I can't explain. I hear my students ask me when I'm coming back... and I lose it.
And it is in that free-fall that I am forced to acknowledge that I feel so very much alone.
Today, I received a note that led me on another plummeting free-fall.
I tried to tell someone what was going on in my heart.
But it just fell on deaf ears.
I tried to pretend I was ok.
But I'm not.
I sat on my bed.
And I told Jesus, "I just can't...it just hurts..."
It's all I got out.
But you know what?
It's all He needed to hear.
Because He knows.
And not only does He know, He sympathizes...
And guess what "sympathizes" means?
"To share in a feeling with..."
I love that. Because that's all I really want. I just want someone to understand what this feels like...
And Someone does.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
2-1-2012
It's February.
February, I tell you.
How did this happen?
Today I got a message from someone. All it said was, "In four months you'll be home."
Four months.
Initially, I smiled. And the longer I thought about it, the more that smile turned into a nervous twitch.
And then...the immediate question came: What on earth am I doing with my life?
To which I genuinely have no answer. So, in an effort to help me stop freaking out, and a lame attempt to trick myself into thinking I may have some idea, I'm making a list of all the things I will not be doing with my life upon returning to the good Ole U.S. of A.
I will not:
be joining the military. Unless, of course, every other possible career path has been exhausted...and I include working at McDonald's as a career option.
be homeless, thanks to my parents.
be a rapper. I've thought about it.(see this post) But, word to your mother, my rhymes are just not flat out gangsta enough (see, even that horrendously constructed sentence took me five minutes to write...). And, besides that, I'm just not sure where I would fit with the whole East Coast/West Coast rivalry...I mean, I'm from Iowa.
be an Olympic athlete. Unless they enter a division for falling ungracefully up and down stairs. I could quite possibly bring home the gold in that one...
be posting any Youtube videos of myself singing in a lame attempt to kick-start my ill-planned musical career. But...if I did have a weak moment... it would involve the song "Dreams" by the Cranberries. Seriously, who does not love belting out the "ahhhh" part? :)
be a politician. Or volunteer for one. In fact, I get a general nauseous feeling when I think about the fact that I seriously considered politics as a profession ten years ago. Gag. What on earth was I thinking?
be a mechanic. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in any way belittling what they do. I'm just saying, no matter how desperate someone may be, they would never want ME touching the engine of their car. In all honestly, I don't even know how to pop the hood of the current car I am driving.
and on a more serious note...
I will not:
be worried about perceptions. Life is short. If my goal is to live for the glory of my King, then what on earth am I doing wasting my time thinking about what YOU think about me? Easier said than done, yes. But...it's a goal.
be the same person I was two years ago. And neither will you. Isn't the ability to change and grow one of the most gracious gifts God gives us, besides salvation? I think so...
be behind. It doesn't matter what everyone else my age has or is doing. I'm right on time, according to God. He knew I'd be clueless on February 1, 2012. He knows I'll be jobless on May 25, 2012. Is He worried? Absolutely not.
be worried. Will moments of doubt and fear come? Constantly. But, that's the point. It's what I DO with the doubt and fear. Do I worry? Or do I let it push me close to the heart of God? Do I stress out? Or do I hide out in God as my Refuge?
be pressured to answer for what God hasn't yet revealed to me.
or lastly...
be pressured to answer for what God has already revealed to me.
February, I tell you.
How did this happen?
Today I got a message from someone. All it said was, "In four months you'll be home."
Four months.
Initially, I smiled. And the longer I thought about it, the more that smile turned into a nervous twitch.
And then...the immediate question came: What on earth am I doing with my life?
To which I genuinely have no answer. So, in an effort to help me stop freaking out, and a lame attempt to trick myself into thinking I may have some idea, I'm making a list of all the things I will not be doing with my life upon returning to the good Ole U.S. of A.
I will not:
be joining the military. Unless, of course, every other possible career path has been exhausted...and I include working at McDonald's as a career option.
be homeless, thanks to my parents.
be a rapper. I've thought about it.(see this post) But, word to your mother, my rhymes are just not flat out gangsta enough (see, even that horrendously constructed sentence took me five minutes to write...). And, besides that, I'm just not sure where I would fit with the whole East Coast/West Coast rivalry...I mean, I'm from Iowa.
be an Olympic athlete. Unless they enter a division for falling ungracefully up and down stairs. I could quite possibly bring home the gold in that one...
be posting any Youtube videos of myself singing in a lame attempt to kick-start my ill-planned musical career. But...if I did have a weak moment... it would involve the song "Dreams" by the Cranberries. Seriously, who does not love belting out the "ahhhh" part? :)
be a politician. Or volunteer for one. In fact, I get a general nauseous feeling when I think about the fact that I seriously considered politics as a profession ten years ago. Gag. What on earth was I thinking?
be a mechanic. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in any way belittling what they do. I'm just saying, no matter how desperate someone may be, they would never want ME touching the engine of their car. In all honestly, I don't even know how to pop the hood of the current car I am driving.
and on a more serious note...
I will not:
be worried about perceptions. Life is short. If my goal is to live for the glory of my King, then what on earth am I doing wasting my time thinking about what YOU think about me? Easier said than done, yes. But...it's a goal.
be the same person I was two years ago. And neither will you. Isn't the ability to change and grow one of the most gracious gifts God gives us, besides salvation? I think so...
be behind. It doesn't matter what everyone else my age has or is doing. I'm right on time, according to God. He knew I'd be clueless on February 1, 2012. He knows I'll be jobless on May 25, 2012. Is He worried? Absolutely not.
be worried. Will moments of doubt and fear come? Constantly. But, that's the point. It's what I DO with the doubt and fear. Do I worry? Or do I let it push me close to the heart of God? Do I stress out? Or do I hide out in God as my Refuge?
be pressured to answer for what God hasn't yet revealed to me.
or lastly...
be pressured to answer for what God has already revealed to me.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Somalian Pirates and Sixth Grade
For the past three months, my students (which now consists of just boys) and I have been praying for a woman whose name we have not known. All we have known is that she is a friend of one of the missionaries here, and that in October she was taken captive by a group of Somalian criminals.
I listened everyday as one of them would mention that we needed to keep praying. They asked questions. Hard questions.
"If no one gives them the money...what do you think they will do with her?"
"They wouldn't hurt her, right? I mean...they just want money, right?"
"If we know what city they are in, why doesn't someone go rescue her?"
During the first month, it was almost exciting to pray, because I really believed that something would happen... and soon. But the longer time dragged on... the more I almost dreaded their questions...
"Any news with the girl that's kidnapped?"
"Have you heard anything?"
Because it was a chilling reminder that sometimes God answers in ways that don't make sense to me. And his "no" and "wait" didn't make sense to me for this former missionary teacher and humanitarian aid worker that had been captured by cruel, wicked men.
But with obvious child-like faith, they kept reminding me to pray. Daily.
I remember the week of Christmas, my students were so bothered.
"What if she doesn't get home by Christmas? That would be awful..."
"Her poor family...I wonder what they'll do if she doesn't get released by then."
We kept praying. We prayed that her captors would be afraid of her and not harm her. We prayed that they would want to release her. We prayed that someone would find her.
But still... "wait."
Or worse yet... my mind went to... "No."
This morning, as I was in the middle of getting ready, I heard my roommate yell, "You've got to check the news. I think they rescued her!"
There, in front of my very own eyes was the answer.
She was rescued.
My eyes started filling with tears. Not for her...although, they definitely should have wept for her.
My eyes filled with tears because God answered the prayers of three boys who refused to stop praying for someone they didn't even know. Even when their teacher started to give up hope.
As I read the story of her rescue, I smiled. Not only did He rescue her, but He sent in a team of Navy SEALS to do it, and in the process killed all nine of her captors. Could the end to that story possibly be more exciting and thrilling for three elementary age boys? I think not.
All day long, I've been replaying their response to the news in my head. It has convicted me. I expected them, like me, to be shocked. But when I told them I had good news for them, the very first words out of one of them was, "Did they find the girl?"
They prayed believing. I...well, I prayed wanting to believe. But when the answer came, they were not surprised. Pleased, happy, and excited about all the details, yes. But surprised...not at all.
Oh Lord-increase my faith.
I listened everyday as one of them would mention that we needed to keep praying. They asked questions. Hard questions.
"If no one gives them the money...what do you think they will do with her?"
"They wouldn't hurt her, right? I mean...they just want money, right?"
"If we know what city they are in, why doesn't someone go rescue her?"
During the first month, it was almost exciting to pray, because I really believed that something would happen... and soon. But the longer time dragged on... the more I almost dreaded their questions...
"Any news with the girl that's kidnapped?"
"Have you heard anything?"
Because it was a chilling reminder that sometimes God answers in ways that don't make sense to me. And his "no" and "wait" didn't make sense to me for this former missionary teacher and humanitarian aid worker that had been captured by cruel, wicked men.
But with obvious child-like faith, they kept reminding me to pray. Daily.
I remember the week of Christmas, my students were so bothered.
"What if she doesn't get home by Christmas? That would be awful..."
"Her poor family...I wonder what they'll do if she doesn't get released by then."
We kept praying. We prayed that her captors would be afraid of her and not harm her. We prayed that they would want to release her. We prayed that someone would find her.
But still... "wait."
Or worse yet... my mind went to... "No."
This morning, as I was in the middle of getting ready, I heard my roommate yell, "You've got to check the news. I think they rescued her!"
There, in front of my very own eyes was the answer.
She was rescued.
My eyes started filling with tears. Not for her...although, they definitely should have wept for her.
My eyes filled with tears because God answered the prayers of three boys who refused to stop praying for someone they didn't even know. Even when their teacher started to give up hope.
As I read the story of her rescue, I smiled. Not only did He rescue her, but He sent in a team of Navy SEALS to do it, and in the process killed all nine of her captors. Could the end to that story possibly be more exciting and thrilling for three elementary age boys? I think not.
All day long, I've been replaying their response to the news in my head. It has convicted me. I expected them, like me, to be shocked. But when I told them I had good news for them, the very first words out of one of them was, "Did they find the girl?"
They prayed believing. I...well, I prayed wanting to believe. But when the answer came, they were not surprised. Pleased, happy, and excited about all the details, yes. But surprised...not at all.
Oh Lord-increase my faith.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Mile-markers...
On Wednesday, I head to Ireland. Again.
Only this time, for "business"... not pleasure.
What life am I living that I just get to go to Ireland for a SECOND time?
Let me just say, following God has been an incredible adventure.
Hard, yes.
Scary, definitely.
But so worth it.
Right now I am following Him into what seems to me to be another terrifying adventure. I say "terrifying" mainly because, like Portugal, I am stepping out without knowing the outcome. And all the lessons He taught me then are like little reminders along the way... like mile-markers on a different journey... and when I reach a spot where I contemplate turning around because it seems too hard, I see a tiny reminder: I've been here before. This journey is not new.
Oh, not in this exact spot, to be SURE...and this is definitely a different path in the journey of following Christ, but it's familiar territory. I face the same questions: Are you willing to trust me? Will you once again step out of your "boat" of comfort, security, and predictability?
I recently read an article about how each season in our life prepares us for the next. As I look back on all that God taught me, I recognize that I needed all those lessons for this. And while the outcome of this is as (if not more) uncertain than anything else, it's incredible to see how I've been being prepared for it for quite some time...
It doesn't take away the moments when I beg God to let me run away rather than keep surrendering. Or when I tearfully tell Him I just don't think I can do this...
But those moments end when I see His hand lovingly lead me to the mile-markers...
And there, I recall His faithfulness to me.
Then.
Now.
And however and wherever this journey may lead until He calls me home.
Only this time, for "business"... not pleasure.
What life am I living that I just get to go to Ireland for a SECOND time?
Let me just say, following God has been an incredible adventure.
Hard, yes.
Scary, definitely.
But so worth it.
Right now I am following Him into what seems to me to be another terrifying adventure. I say "terrifying" mainly because, like Portugal, I am stepping out without knowing the outcome. And all the lessons He taught me then are like little reminders along the way... like mile-markers on a different journey... and when I reach a spot where I contemplate turning around because it seems too hard, I see a tiny reminder: I've been here before. This journey is not new.
Oh, not in this exact spot, to be SURE...and this is definitely a different path in the journey of following Christ, but it's familiar territory. I face the same questions: Are you willing to trust me? Will you once again step out of your "boat" of comfort, security, and predictability?
I recently read an article about how each season in our life prepares us for the next. As I look back on all that God taught me, I recognize that I needed all those lessons for this. And while the outcome of this is as (if not more) uncertain than anything else, it's incredible to see how I've been being prepared for it for quite some time...
It doesn't take away the moments when I beg God to let me run away rather than keep surrendering. Or when I tearfully tell Him I just don't think I can do this...
But those moments end when I see His hand lovingly lead me to the mile-markers...
And there, I recall His faithfulness to me.
Then.
Now.
And however and wherever this journey may lead until He calls me home.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
"I got a hangover,
I've been drinking too much for sure
I got a hangover,
I got an empty cup
Pour me some more
So I can go until I blow up,
And I can drink until I throw up,
And I don't ever ever want to grow up,
I wanna keep it going...."
"There's a stranger in my bed,
There's a pounding my head
Glitter all over the room
Pink flamingos in the pool
I smell like a minibar...
Pictures of last night
Ended up online
I'm screwed
Oh well
It's a blacked out blur
But I'm pretty sure it ruled"
"Lately I've been stuck imagining
What I wanna do and what I really think,
Time to blow out
Be a little inappropriate
'Cause I know that everybody's thinkin' it
When the lights out
Shame on me
To need release
Uncontrollably
I wanna go all the way
Taking out my freak tonight
I wanna show
All the dirt
I got running through my mind..."
Not typically what I post, is it? Yet this is the crap (sorry, but I am calling it what it is) that is being shoved down the throats of kids/teens/young adults everyday.
Maybe I am just more exposed and more aware living in a place where nothing coming from America gets edited. But I have been shocked and appalled at the absolute TRASH our country produces. And it disgusts me when I hear it being played here.
It makes me sad. Sad, because purity and good choices are difficult to make without music that SCREAMS, "Who cares... sleep around. It's so common, I'm singing about it. Drinking until you pass out and throw up? Fun...so fun in fact, I want to write a song about the puke coming out of my mouth right now."
I'll be the first to say that I love music. But I don't like being lied to, no matter how prettily Rihanna makes it sound. And I don't like people lying to my friends, my students, and my loved ones. It angers me to hear the message that "your life only affects you" and "your choices only impact you...so if it's fun in the moment, and makes you feel happy for a while, do whatever you want." It's a lie. Your sin breaks people's heart. It crushes them. It burdens them. It clouds their thoughts and keeps them awake all night. It makes people who love you feel physically sick. It destroys families. It destroys futures. And it's never worth it.
If you listen to this stuff, I'm not judging you.
I'm just sick of you being lied to.
Because you were made for so much more than that...
I've been drinking too much for sure
I got a hangover,
I got an empty cup
Pour me some more
So I can go until I blow up,
And I can drink until I throw up,
And I don't ever ever want to grow up,
I wanna keep it going...."
"There's a stranger in my bed,
There's a pounding my head
Glitter all over the room
Pink flamingos in the pool
I smell like a minibar...
Pictures of last night
Ended up online
I'm screwed
Oh well
It's a blacked out blur
But I'm pretty sure it ruled"
"Lately I've been stuck imagining
What I wanna do and what I really think,
Time to blow out
Be a little inappropriate
'Cause I know that everybody's thinkin' it
When the lights out
Shame on me
To need release
Uncontrollably
I wanna go all the way
Taking out my freak tonight
I wanna show
All the dirt
I got running through my mind..."
Not typically what I post, is it? Yet this is the crap (sorry, but I am calling it what it is) that is being shoved down the throats of kids/teens/young adults everyday.
Maybe I am just more exposed and more aware living in a place where nothing coming from America gets edited. But I have been shocked and appalled at the absolute TRASH our country produces. And it disgusts me when I hear it being played here.
It makes me sad. Sad, because purity and good choices are difficult to make without music that SCREAMS, "Who cares... sleep around. It's so common, I'm singing about it. Drinking until you pass out and throw up? Fun...so fun in fact, I want to write a song about the puke coming out of my mouth right now."
I'll be the first to say that I love music. But I don't like being lied to, no matter how prettily Rihanna makes it sound. And I don't like people lying to my friends, my students, and my loved ones. It angers me to hear the message that "your life only affects you" and "your choices only impact you...so if it's fun in the moment, and makes you feel happy for a while, do whatever you want." It's a lie. Your sin breaks people's heart. It crushes them. It burdens them. It clouds their thoughts and keeps them awake all night. It makes people who love you feel physically sick. It destroys families. It destroys futures. And it's never worth it.
If you listen to this stuff, I'm not judging you.
I'm just sick of you being lied to.
Because you were made for so much more than that...
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Reflections...
Today I taught in Portuguese for the second time.
It's about twenty minutes before I had to teach that I was overwhelmed with the thought, "How on earth did I wind up here? In Portugal... about to teach in a language that I am nowhere near mastering?"
For the most part, I am very comfortable with life here. What was once overwhelming and a mystery is now normal. But there are still those moments... moments when I am struck with how vastly different my life is right now. When I talk with friends back home and hear how they spend their time... or what they are up to, I feel a twinge of wistfulness, knowing that used to be my life too. But God pulled me away.
He took me away from an independent life filled with incredible friendships. He made me dependent. He broke me. He taught me how to make new friends in a new culture when I barely knew the language. He pushed me at times harder than I thought bearable, but showed me He is all the time faithful. He's taught me the meaning of flexibility in a way I never though possible.
On New Year's day I did something I don't normally do, but fully intend to make a habit. I took my journal and my Bible and went to a cafe. I spent the afternoon pouring through the last year of my life. I read with surprise and a smile of remembrance the highs that I had experienced in 2011. My eyes welled with tears as I recalled the pain in the lows I'd journeyed through. As I poured through my prayers from 2011 I was amazed: how quickly I had forgotten what God brought me through.
Right now I love my life here in Portugal. And because I am so fulfilled and happy, it was easy for me to forget that there were moments when I begged the Lord to show me just one reason why He led me here. There were many days where I told the Lord, "I cannot do this. I will never fit here. You picked the wrong person." I forgot the tears I cried because I was overwhelmed with the loss of my friends. I no longer remembered how frustrating it was to feel like I would never be able to say anything more than, "Hi, how are you?" in Portuguese. I saw prayer after prayer begging the Lord to help me be able to communicate because I was desperate for friendships. In the past year, God led me through months and months of discomfort and frustration. And at the end of that long journey, He brought me here... to a time in my life that I absolutely love. And as I sat down to write out a prayer, my thoughts kept coming back to such a simple truth:
"Though sorrow may last for a night, joy comes in the morning."
Every difficult time God has brought me through has been temporary. The light affliction I experience is "but for a moment" and is always accomplishing a far more important purpose.
I stared at my journal... 2012.
As I saw the year written on the page, I realized once again that in five months God is going to take me back home. I am going to once again be uncomfortable. My heart is once again going to feel like it is breaking. My heart is going to long to hear Portuguese. I am going to be IMMENSELY grieved to walk away from my church and friends here. And even as I even begin to write this, I can't imagine how I'm going to ever feel fulfilled and happy there...
"But joy will come in the morning..."
There will be tears. Many, I'm afraid.
But joy will come.
He will restore. He will show me once again that the plan He has will bring more joy than I ever thought imaginable. And He will overwhelm me once again with how well He knows my heart, and what I need to look more like Him.
And through the entire journey, He'll always be faithful.
It's about twenty minutes before I had to teach that I was overwhelmed with the thought, "How on earth did I wind up here? In Portugal... about to teach in a language that I am nowhere near mastering?"
For the most part, I am very comfortable with life here. What was once overwhelming and a mystery is now normal. But there are still those moments... moments when I am struck with how vastly different my life is right now. When I talk with friends back home and hear how they spend their time... or what they are up to, I feel a twinge of wistfulness, knowing that used to be my life too. But God pulled me away.
He took me away from an independent life filled with incredible friendships. He made me dependent. He broke me. He taught me how to make new friends in a new culture when I barely knew the language. He pushed me at times harder than I thought bearable, but showed me He is all the time faithful. He's taught me the meaning of flexibility in a way I never though possible.
On New Year's day I did something I don't normally do, but fully intend to make a habit. I took my journal and my Bible and went to a cafe. I spent the afternoon pouring through the last year of my life. I read with surprise and a smile of remembrance the highs that I had experienced in 2011. My eyes welled with tears as I recalled the pain in the lows I'd journeyed through. As I poured through my prayers from 2011 I was amazed: how quickly I had forgotten what God brought me through.
Right now I love my life here in Portugal. And because I am so fulfilled and happy, it was easy for me to forget that there were moments when I begged the Lord to show me just one reason why He led me here. There were many days where I told the Lord, "I cannot do this. I will never fit here. You picked the wrong person." I forgot the tears I cried because I was overwhelmed with the loss of my friends. I no longer remembered how frustrating it was to feel like I would never be able to say anything more than, "Hi, how are you?" in Portuguese. I saw prayer after prayer begging the Lord to help me be able to communicate because I was desperate for friendships. In the past year, God led me through months and months of discomfort and frustration. And at the end of that long journey, He brought me here... to a time in my life that I absolutely love. And as I sat down to write out a prayer, my thoughts kept coming back to such a simple truth:
"Though sorrow may last for a night, joy comes in the morning."
Every difficult time God has brought me through has been temporary. The light affliction I experience is "but for a moment" and is always accomplishing a far more important purpose.
I stared at my journal... 2012.
As I saw the year written on the page, I realized once again that in five months God is going to take me back home. I am going to once again be uncomfortable. My heart is once again going to feel like it is breaking. My heart is going to long to hear Portuguese. I am going to be IMMENSELY grieved to walk away from my church and friends here. And even as I even begin to write this, I can't imagine how I'm going to ever feel fulfilled and happy there...
"But joy will come in the morning..."
There will be tears. Many, I'm afraid.
But joy will come.
He will restore. He will show me once again that the plan He has will bring more joy than I ever thought imaginable. And He will overwhelm me once again with how well He knows my heart, and what I need to look more like Him.
And through the entire journey, He'll always be faithful.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
When God orders your steps...
Mid-afternoon today I nearly lost it. What had been tremendous peace in the midst of my seemingly uncertain future was suddenly removed. Something that I normally accept with understanding became an indicator that everything I was doing was probably a mistake. All day long I kept thinking, "What is my problem? Why am I all the sudden flipping out over this? I was fine 24 hours ago."
Suddenly I knew what I needed to do, "Walking sounds good. A long walk. To clear my head and pray. And I'm not coming home until I have peace and have gotten to the root of my problem."
So, I went home, changed, and headed to the park.
And walked.
And walked.
Walked some more.
Prayed some more.
More walking.
More praying.
I passed a cute puppy.
I smiled at the owner.
I decided I was just going to have to go home and get in the Word. As I headed to my car, I stopped. For no apparent reason I decided I would go sit on a park bench (which, is not something I normally do after walking in the park).
I walked to the bench and sat.
I started praying, and then I saw the man with the cute dog walk to the bench furthest away from me. He spoke harshly to his dog. He began to order the TINY puppy to jump up on the bench. The poor, helpless puppy tried unsuccessfully many times. I kept thinking it was so cruel of the man to make this little puppy jump and fail. Why wouldn't he just lift it up? Finally the man himself stood on top of the bench. He began beckoning the puppy to try again. You could almost read the frustration on the puppy's face. I thought, "How cruel! He already knows that the puppy can't do it. Why is he torturing him?" Before I could finish my last thought the puppy jumped and secured a spot on top of the bench.
I sat watching this whole display and started fighting back tears. Because I got it. My perspective of my Master was off. I, like the puppy, was feeling like my Master was asking me to do something I simply was not capable of doing. All during my walk, I kept saying, "God, I just can't. I must not be capable of this. You must not have made me for this." But what He reminded me was that He himself was not asking me to do anything that He hasn't already done. And if He can do it, He can provide the ability, strength, and grace I need to do it.
I watched the puppy's master play with him on the bench and encourage him. They both jumped down, and then he led the puppy to another bench. This time, the master stood on the ground. He encouraged the puppy to try again. Without hesitation it jumped onto the bench.
"Ok... I get it, Lord. You've been on top of my bench. And because You are there and have been there, I can do it."
Lesson learned. Peace overwhelmed my heart. And I thought my day was done.
But the puppy started coming to my bench. It stopped. I smiled up at the owner (and hoped against all hope he didn't see my eyes were filled with tears over the minor accomplishment his dog just made). I told the owner I thought his puppy was cute (it was about the only Portuguese phrase that came to me).
I had no intention of moving the conversation past that point. But somehow thirty minutes later we were in a deep discussion about what the true meaning of the Bible is, what a personal relationship with Christ meant, and the reason for man's existence.
I invited him to come to my church. He said he hoped we'd meet up again someday at the park. I shook Ruben's hand and headed to my car.
"Lord... what was that? You didn't bring me here because I needed to get to the bottom of why I was suddenly frustrated. You frustrated my plans momentarily to get me to the park to sit on a bench to watch a puppy that would remind me of who You are and then open the door to share You with a 20-something Portuguese policeman who thinks being good is enough to get him to heaven. You just ordered my steps, didn't You?"
O, Lord--Order my steps to be light in the dark. And do whatever You need to in my heart and life to get me to be where I am needed. Use me.
Suddenly I knew what I needed to do, "Walking sounds good. A long walk. To clear my head and pray. And I'm not coming home until I have peace and have gotten to the root of my problem."
So, I went home, changed, and headed to the park.
And walked.
And walked.
Walked some more.
Prayed some more.
More walking.
More praying.
I passed a cute puppy.
I smiled at the owner.
I decided I was just going to have to go home and get in the Word. As I headed to my car, I stopped. For no apparent reason I decided I would go sit on a park bench (which, is not something I normally do after walking in the park).
I walked to the bench and sat.
I started praying, and then I saw the man with the cute dog walk to the bench furthest away from me. He spoke harshly to his dog. He began to order the TINY puppy to jump up on the bench. The poor, helpless puppy tried unsuccessfully many times. I kept thinking it was so cruel of the man to make this little puppy jump and fail. Why wouldn't he just lift it up? Finally the man himself stood on top of the bench. He began beckoning the puppy to try again. You could almost read the frustration on the puppy's face. I thought, "How cruel! He already knows that the puppy can't do it. Why is he torturing him?" Before I could finish my last thought the puppy jumped and secured a spot on top of the bench.
I sat watching this whole display and started fighting back tears. Because I got it. My perspective of my Master was off. I, like the puppy, was feeling like my Master was asking me to do something I simply was not capable of doing. All during my walk, I kept saying, "God, I just can't. I must not be capable of this. You must not have made me for this." But what He reminded me was that He himself was not asking me to do anything that He hasn't already done. And if He can do it, He can provide the ability, strength, and grace I need to do it.
I watched the puppy's master play with him on the bench and encourage him. They both jumped down, and then he led the puppy to another bench. This time, the master stood on the ground. He encouraged the puppy to try again. Without hesitation it jumped onto the bench.
"Ok... I get it, Lord. You've been on top of my bench. And because You are there and have been there, I can do it."
Lesson learned. Peace overwhelmed my heart. And I thought my day was done.
But the puppy started coming to my bench. It stopped. I smiled up at the owner (and hoped against all hope he didn't see my eyes were filled with tears over the minor accomplishment his dog just made). I told the owner I thought his puppy was cute (it was about the only Portuguese phrase that came to me).
I had no intention of moving the conversation past that point. But somehow thirty minutes later we were in a deep discussion about what the true meaning of the Bible is, what a personal relationship with Christ meant, and the reason for man's existence.
I invited him to come to my church. He said he hoped we'd meet up again someday at the park. I shook Ruben's hand and headed to my car.
"Lord... what was that? You didn't bring me here because I needed to get to the bottom of why I was suddenly frustrated. You frustrated my plans momentarily to get me to the park to sit on a bench to watch a puppy that would remind me of who You are and then open the door to share You with a 20-something Portuguese policeman who thinks being good is enough to get him to heaven. You just ordered my steps, didn't You?"
O, Lord--Order my steps to be light in the dark. And do whatever You need to in my heart and life to get me to be where I am needed. Use me.
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