i was MADE for this

Every morning, I get an email with a scripture.  Today it was 1 Chronicles 4:9-10.

I remember when the book The Prayer of Jabez was first released.  It was revolutionary in its simplicity.  Based on a scripture that so many people, including myself, skipped over because it’s ensconced in genealogy.  Boring.  

1 Chronicles 4:9-10, courtesy of biblegateway.com:  ⁹ Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” ¹⁰ Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request.

My deepest desire is to be an honorable woman.  I want God to bless me.  I want God’s hand to be with me, to keep me from harm and free from pain.  I want my tent posts and territory to be enlarged…as my capacity is expanded, my capacity to give increases as well.

The problem is that I get into my own way much of the time.  But I’m working on it.  Daily.

Right now, my heart is all charged up.  There’s a struggle going on within me that wakes me up at night.  

My faith is being challenged.  This is the best thing that could ever happen to me.

Things that I believe to be true are requiring me to see the big picture rather than the finite circumstances that appear more true.  

Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.  Hebrews 11:1

Faith is not rational.  It cannot be quantified.  A node cannot be hooked up to my brain to study where I get my faith, and why I believe some of the things that I believe.

There is a part of every person…a part that senses things that are unknowable by rational thought.  When I was a kid, we were on vacation, and I spent much of the time crying as if someone had died.  My parents were…frustrated with me to say the very least.  When we got home from our vacation (this was in the days before cell phones when the dinosaurs walked the earth) we learned that my Oma’s sister had passed away.  Something in me was mourning, yet I didn’t know the cause of the mourning.

There are a few things that I believe with every ounce of my being.  If you were to look at my circumstances right now, you’d laugh.  Nothing is adding up to show that these things will come to pass.  However, deep within me, as distraught as I am on the surface, I just know in my knower that one day I’ll read this blog post, recall the dark night of the soul, and smile.  

My heart aches for that day to be today.

Sometimes I really wonder how people can question the existence of God.  Some would say that I believe in a fairytale.  Others that I am brainwashed.  To those people, I say pshaw.  Yeah…I did just pull out a Little House on the Prairie term.  Take that

In August I took a road trip.  I traveled from NJ to MA and spent a few days in my beloved New England.  Then I traveled from MA to Syracuse, NY.  While in MA, I took some photos of random things that reminded me of who I am.  I am obsessed with three things–from a photography standpoint, at least–benches, stairs and doorways. 

Doorways represent new beginnings and endings.  Both are good things in due season. 

Stairs represent movement from one level to another.  Either up or down.  Both are good in due season. 

Benches represent rest.  Rest is a good thing.  Even God took a day of rest after He created the earth. Something I’m learning is that rest does not mean inaction.  Rest means trusting in God…trusting that He truly knows what is best for me.

The other day I was at my wits end, so I sent a tweet out to the world, asking for prayer.  You know what happened?  God answered my prayers, and the prayers of my tweets.  Today I find myself still, knowing that He is God. 

I am enjoying this moment…and I truly look forward to 2009.  I only see bright skies ahead.  The best is yet to come.

Joel 2:25-26 has been something on which my heart has been set for so long.  So many have promised me that God would restore what the locusts have stolen.  I’ve smiled, nodded…but I’ve not really believed it.  You know what I mean…I believed it, but I didn’t believe it in the depths of my soul.

This morning, I found myself up.  Early.  Looking foward to going to work.  Yeah.  You read that right.

I love my job.  I may still be in the honeymoon period, but I am really enjoying what I am doing.  I work hard.  When I got into the car tonight, I was exhausted.  My brain, at one time, was exhausted from atrophy.  Now, my brain is exhausted from use.  I am learning a lot about business…and how to set up a great business vs how to set up a good business.

Tomorrow I am packing my lunch and heading to the waterfront.  I walked to a small store today and was struck by so many juxtapositions that I observed.  I was in the middle of a city, but there was no traffic.  I could see the fifth largest city in the US–Philadelphia–while in one of the poorest, most dangerous cities in the nation.  There is a discernable boundary between those who work in Camden and those who live in Camden.  I’m not talking about the part of Camden that is being gentrified to the detriment of the indigenous people.  I’m talking about the part of Camden that most caucasian people would not visit unless they were there to purchase illegal drugs or to solicit a prostitute.

You see, I have a love affair with Camden.  My heart was broken and captured by the city what seems like a lifetime ago when I was volunteering weekly in North Camden.  I met some of the most beautiful, loving, amazing people living in one of the most frightening parts of this country.  I will never forget one of the men that we met.  He was fixing up his house, and he looked me in the eye, dejected, asking me why a big flooring company in our area wouldn’t deliver to him.  How could I answer him?  I remember hanging blinds in the home of the sweetest woman on the face of the earth.  She didn’t have much by most people’s standards, but in my opinion, she has more than I will ever have.  I cannot shake the wailing of the family whose son, father, uncle was found dead in their living room shortly before we arrived to clean up the neighborhood.

I work in the most amazing city in the world.  For an amazing company.  I keep waiting for reality to set in.

God has restored what the locusts have stolen.  And I believe that He is in the process of restoring my life like He did Job’s.  I don’t know why.  I just know it in my knower.

Today I went to church.  For the first time since I returned from a dental meeting in Boston.  It’s been a while.  A friend invited me.  Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have gone.  Just being honest. 

This is how it went down.  She saw that I had changed my “status” on myspace.  She commented me that this guy, Mike Murphy, was speaking.  She mentioned it had be a little while since she had seen me.  I agreed to go.

This is a guy who has opened up scripture for mein ways that noone else has.  And he has ticked me offlike noone else has.  But I knew that I was supposed to go.  Probably because of the butterflies that I get in my stomach when I am good-nervous.

I’m not going to get al super-Christian and say that my life was radically transformed by today.  What I will say is that I needed to be there.  I learned today that I am a piece in some puzzle.  Some weird, unfinished puzzle that confounds me. 

Whatn perplexes me more is that I am not part of one puzzle.  I am a part of many interlinking, interlocking puzzles.  I am a bridge for some, a pillar for other. 

The lesson that I am learning is that I don’t know the role that has been scripted for me in the play that is my life, our lives.  All I know is that I have a part, and I need to be the part.  I cannot deny who I am, but I also cannot overplay my part. 

One of my weaknesses is that I don’t want to play multiple parts.  I want one identifiable role.  I want to know where I stand.  I don’t do well in the grey areas of life.  But life is lived in the grey.  Nothing is black and white.  If it is, there is something wrong.  If I cannot function in the grey, I am in trouble.

The fact is that I do not have one role.  I have many roles.  And through all of my roles, I have to be myself.  All things to all people.  Or something lke that.

Today I had coffee with a friend I’ve not seen in I can’t tell you how long.  It was refreshing to reconnect with her.  She is studying linguistics and will be heading to France to study the french language in anticipation of heading to Africa in two years.  Wow.

Talking to her reminded me of all of the dreams that God has placed in my heart.  I need, NEED, NEED to get out of South Jersey, to get out of the US to do something.  Thinking about going on mission, living my life on mission makes my heart race. Something inside of me refuses to be settled, content, as I live my life here, working a 9-5, making a real difference in noone’s life.  I like being employed.  I like my car, the things that I have acquired.  I like having the freedom to take care of the things I need to take care of.  But…the constraints of the 9-5 take away other freedoms for which I yearn.

I’m not quitting my job.  I’m just airing what is going on in my head at the moment.  I know that God has called me to be his full-time ambassador.  But…at this moment, this particular moment in time, I cannot see, in front of me, progress toward that.  But…faith is being certain of what cannot be seen by the naked eye.  SO…right now I must stand in faith, preparing for that which I cannot yet see.

Today I got drawn into a conversation, a dialogue about the Holy Spirit.  I’ve always just taken for granted that the Holy Spirit is alive, well and dwells within me.  I know that there was a distinct moment when He and I entered into relationship, but I can’t give you the date and time.  I remember life before Him and I now know life with Him.  Much like I remember life before Christ, and I know life with Christ.

I have a special place in my heart, in my life for the Holy Spirit.  I know that God the Father created the Heavens and the earth.  I know that Jesus gave His life so that I could live, so that I could enter into relationship with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  But I’ve always, since I can remember, leaned on the Holy Spirit.  He has been my Comforter in difficult times.  He has given me power, discernment, strength when I had none.  When I pray, I expect that my prayers will be answered.  When He gives me a word for someone, I expect that it is what the person needs to hear.  For some reason, I’ve never doubted the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  I’ve just walked in them.

Please do not mistake me.  I am so far from perfect that it makes me cringe.  And I know it.  But what I also know is that God uses the imperfect.  Those of us who are imperfect know that we need Him.  But I also know when He is the One in control of what I am saying, what I am doing.  It is only with Him that I walk in any confidence at all.

Where am I going with this?  I believe that the reason that there are so many questions and theories surrounding the Holy Spirit is because people are afraid of Him.  They are afraid that if they allow the Holy Spirit to control their lives, they will be forced to hop around the church sanctary like tigger, or make some cackling chicken noise or lose control over their bodies.  The Holy Spirit is a gentleman.  He does not want you to look like a crazy person.  Others are afraid of losing control of themselves.  Chew on this.  After the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus, He began to perform miracles. 

I assure you that the Holy Spirit is gentle.  He is symbolized as a dove when He descends upon Jesus (Read John 1:32-34.) 

Lord, I pray that You would make yourself known to each and every person whose eyes peruse this page.  Let these people know not only You as Father and You as Son but also You as the Holy Spirit.  Let not my words be seen on this page but Yours.  In Jesus’ name, AMEN.

I wish I were the friend who could tell you what you want to hear.  I wish I were the person who could tell you, and fully believe, that tomorrow, when you wake up, everything will be better.  But God has not given me the gift of tickling your ears, of telling you what you want to hear.  I understand that my responsibility is to guide you through the tough times, the desert experiences, the wasteland experiences.  I am the friend who tells you the hard things, in love, so that you can grow from the experience.  If you want your ears tickled, you should probably lose my number.

Today I received a heart-wrenching text message and email.  I wanted to call my friend and tell her that the sun will come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun.  I wanted to tell her that everything’s gonna be alright.  The fact of the matter is that God is in control, and I don’t know why He’s teaching her the tough lessons.  I don’t know how long the tough lessons will last.  What I do know is that He is forging her character, preparing her for something that is so much bigger than her circumstances.  I know that God is not surprised at her circumstances.  I know that He is in control.  Now I sound like a broken record.

There are days that I want to cry out to God, “Why me?”  Sometimes I wonder why He allows some people to live to one standard while He holds me to a different standard.  Then He reminds me that I am not those people, and that our relationship is not their relationship.  He reminds me that I was put on this planet to change the world, not to be comfortable or to settle for momentary gratification.  He reminds me that to whom much is given, much is required.  He reminds me that I have submitted my life to Him, and that I have given Him permission to do with me as He wants.  So that means that I cannot jump from boyfriend to boyfriend.  That means that I have to keep Him in the forefront of my mind in EVERYTHING I do, be it stuffing envelopes for a coworker or preaching the gospel to 100,000 people in a stadium.  I have to be the same person on the bus or in church. 

So there you have it.  Deep spiritual insights. 

I realized something recently.  It should have been apparent throughout my life, and I suppose that it has been apparent, but I can put words to it.

I am passionate about God. 

I love people, because He loves people.  I love prayer because He loves to connect with me.  I love creation because He created it. 

I love the Township of Voorhees because He has placed me there.  I love Philadelphia because God has sent me as a missionary to that particular city. 

I am falling in love with Korean people because God has placed me in a situation in which I am surrounded by Korean people.  I am starting to love dentists because God has put me in a company whose function is to reach out to dentists, to educate them and to be a support to them. 

I love to travel the world because I am passionate about the things that God has placed in my heart.  I love blogging because it allows me to preach the gospel on every continent without jet lag and travel expenses.

It would be really easy, over simplistic to look at my life and see me as scattered.  There is a thread that holds all of these things together:  a passion for Jesus Christ, the Messiah, my Father and the Holy Spirit.  Sure, sometimes I’m like a kid who is high on sugar when God shows me something.  Most of the time it is for later, not for now, but I am still like a kid at Christmas.  I hope that I never lose that excitement.

So, there you have it.  I’ve come out of the closet.  I’m passionate about God.

Today as I was walking through the city, I felt like Tony and Maria in West Side Story.  There is something on its way.  I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it in the pit of my being.  I’m feeling rather lyrical today, but I’ve yet to put pen to paper.  There is a good tension in the air…the kind that is exhilarating.

So, today Chill Pastor wrote about me on his blog.  As I read it, I was wondering who the heck he was talking about.  I have to admit…I’d never read the scripture associated with what it is that he wrote.  He made me cry.  At work.  One day…one day I’ll get him back   Surely our paths will cross one day at a conference or such.  I’ve only been reading his blog for a couple of months, but it seems like I’ve been reading forever.  His childhood friends regularly read my blog.  That kinda blows me away.  Interesting how God links people together over the miles.

So, please brace yourself.  I have a *gasp* song.  For the second time this week.  Enjoy my favorite song from my favorite musical.