i was MADE for this

I love that there are seasons in life.  Living in the Northeast, I am all too familiar with seasons…and the co-mingling of seasons.  Right now, it is technically spring, but we’ve had a bit of a cold snap.  In two weeks, it’ll probably be 110 with 100% humidity until October.

My life has very distinct seasons as well.  Solomon wrote about it in Ecclesiastes 3.  Honestly, the past season(s) have been really difficult…seasons of want, loneliness, walking through a dry desert.  I wouldn’t trade the hell I’ve lived for all of the money in the world, though.  When I am surrounded by friends, I appreciate them more after the desperate loneliness I expereinced.  When I am able to do something as simple as buy a friend a cup of coffee, I am thrilled because it was not too long ago that I couldn’t buy myself a pack of gum.  

I seem to be entering into a season of prosperity.  Many of the people who disappeared during the tough times have reappeared.  Long-forgotten friends are appearing in the most obscure, unexpected places.  Friendships forged during the fire of the past few years are proving more valuable than gold.  The Bible says in Joel 2:25-27 that God will restore what the locusts have stolen.  I’m seeing that in just about every area of my life.

I don’t write these things to boast.  If you’ve read my blog over the past year (or three) I’ve been extremely transparent about my difficulties in every area of my life.  For me, this new season–in which I am still trying to find my sea legs–is not a testimony to my abilities but rather to God’s goodness.  

I don’t believe in coincidences.  I don’t believe in chance.  I believe that every person I know has a purpose in my life, and I believe that I have a purpose in their lives.  I believe that if you are reading this rambling blog, that God himself directed you to this page.

Please be encouraged if you are going through a rough season in your life.  I know it’s tough.  I may not know the exact circumstances, but I’ve walked through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  In God’s time, the green pastures will come. I don’t say that as a trite Christian cliche.  Frankly, those make me vomit and die a little inside.  I say that the green pastures will come because I’ve experience it firsthand.  Hold on.  Don’t let go.  If you need encouragement, hit me up via email:  missdeneen at gmail dot com.  Apparently I’m quite good at encouragement.

God has a sense of humor.  I really think that He sits up there, waiting for me to talk, so that He can laugh at me.  

I had a tough week regarding two companies for which I worked this week.  One of the companies never sent me tax information, so I’ve been avoiding getting my taxes prepared.  Turns out that there’s a way around someone who’s being deceitful.  Who would’ve thunk it

The other company frustrates me because they keep doing the same crazy things that drove me away last year.  It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but I have friends who are affected by the illogical, irrational decisions that are being made.  On Thursday, I received an SOS email from a friend who still works there, and I had survivor’s guilt.  I actually felt bad for working in a great situation, for having escaped the turmoil.

These things make me ask the question, “why?”  Yesterday, I think I may have received one answer.

I got out of work early, and I was craving some Korean food.  So, I stopped at my favorite Korean restaurant in South Jersey.  The owner and I are facebook friends, so we sat and talked for a while over my cold, spicy buckwheat noodle soup and banchan.  After our conversation, I understood another reason that I’ve worked for the last two companies.  One of them gave me a love of Korean food and culture.  The other caused me to find this restaurant (on my birthday last year) and led to the conversation yesterday.

I cried out to God, “Why?”  He smiled and answered me.

There is a voice that is within every woman that asks, “Am I lovely?”  After 33 years of research, I believe that question arises almost as soon as a female baby enters the world.  Every woman I know seeks an answer to that question, whether it is conscious or subconscious.

When I was a kid, I always sought the approval of the men in my life–my father, my grandfathers and my great grandfather.  I collected baseball cards and coins.  I chopped wood and went fishing.  I played tennis and watched football.  I did what I thought I needed to do to get their attention.

I started emotionally eating at a young age…about the same age that I discovered that I could escape in a good book.  Because I wasn’t getting a yes on the, “Am I lovely” question, I filled the hole that was left with all kinds of food–salty, sweet, savory.  

As a teenager and an adult, I found the answer even more fleeting.  In high school, boys would ask me to help them with homework, to study for tough subjects rather than asking me out.  I learned that doing tasks made me desirable.  As an adult, I’ve learned that helping people makes me indispensible.  

The irony of the deep rooted question is that the answer is not found in other people.  It can only be found within.  I could be the most breathtakingly beautiful woman in the world, but if I don’t know my intrinsic value and my deep beauty, noone will be able to convince me of my loveliness.  More importantly, there is One who is enthralled by my beauty. Check out Psalm 45 (from biblegateway.com):

¹ My heart is stirred by a noble theme 
       as I recite my verses for the king; 
       my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.

 ² You are the most excellent of men 
       and your lips have been anointed with grace, 
       since God has blessed you forever.

 ³ Gird your sword upon your side, O mighty one; 
       clothe yourself with splendor and majesty.

 ⁴ In your majesty ride forth victoriously 
       in behalf of truth, humility and righteousness; 
       let your right hand display awesome deeds.

 ⁵ Let your sharp arrows pierce the hearts of the king’s enemies; 
       let the nations fall beneath your feet.

 ⁶ Your throne, O God, will last for ever and ever; 
       a scepter of justice will be the scepter of your kingdom.

 ⁷ You love righteousness and hate wickedness; 
       therefore God, your God, has set you above your companions 
       by anointing you with the oil of joy.

 ⁸ All your robes are fragrant with myrrh and aloes and cassia; 
       from palaces adorned with ivory 
       the music of the strings makes you glad.

 ⁹ Daughters of kings are among your honored women; 
       at your right hand is the royal bride in gold of Ophir.

 ¹⁰ Listen, O daughter, consider and give ear: 
       Forget your people and your father’s house.

 ¹¹ The king is enthralled by your beauty; 
       honor him, for he is your lord.

 ¹² The Daughter of Tyre will come with a gift, 
       men of wealth will seek your favor.

 ¹³ All glorious is the princess within her chamber ; 
       her gown is interwoven with gold.

 ¹⁴ In embroidered garments she is led to the king; 
       her virgin companions follow her 
       and are brought to you.

 ¹⁵ They are led in with joy and gladness; 
       they enter the palace of the king.

 ¹⁶ Your sons will take the place of your fathers; 
       you will make them princes throughout the land.

 ¹⁷ I will perpetuate your memory through all generations; 
       therefore the nations will praise you for ever and ever.

 

I’m sitting here in my pj’s on a Sunday morning just like any other Sunday morning.

But there’s something different.  I don’t want to be relaxing today.  I want to be doing.  I want to be a part of something much larger than I.  

I am really upset that I can’t find a church to be a part of here in NJ/PA.  I don’t want to blind-date churches.  I’ve been in bad long-term relationships with churches.  I want a church match-maker to say to me, “Deneen, this is a great church for you to plant yourself in.  Your gifts can add to the congregation in this way.  The church will benefit you in this way.”  If I had a match-maker, I would take his/her advice and see what’s going on.  

Maybe I’m lazy.  Maybe I just need this time of wanting to be a part of a church so that when I finally find a place to be planted, I’ll fully appreciate it.  Maybe I’ve been hurt so deeply that I’ll never fully invest in a church again.

Or maybe I need to think outside of the box and check out an internet campus.  Check.

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.

One of my favorite Bible stories is Noah.  At the end of the 40 days and 40 nights of rain, flooding, overall destruction of the world, God shows Noah a rainbow.  God tells Noah that the rainbow is His promise that the world will never again be destroyed by a flood.  Everytime I see a rainbow, I have a sense of peace knowing that it represents a promise of God.

I’ve had this recurring *thing* in my life..a fear that plagues me like none other.  This weekend, I was especially plagued by this fear to the point that I dreamed about it.  Yesterday, as I was washing my car, I saw a rainbow and God made a promise to me, that I had no reason to allow this fear into my life.  He said to me, “Deneen, I will not allow *that* to occur in your life again.”  I believed what He said…barely.

This morning, I got the email that I have been dreading.  I did some investigation, and it turns out that things are not nearly as bad as they were in my mind.  After I discovered this, I heard, “Deneen, what did I promise you?“

It wasn’t an I-told-you-so moment.  It was the gentle voice of a Father, reminding His child that His word is true.

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.

Did you ever have one of those times when you awaken out of a sound sleep with a thought or thoughts running through your mind so loudly that you cannot go back to sleep, no matter what?

I had one of those times this morning.  AT 4:30AM.  UGH.  I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t.

I turned to Luke 15 in my Bible.  If you’re from churchland, you know this section of scripture.  It’s about the prodigal son.  The grace exhibited by the father is humbling to anyone who has walked away from church for any reason.  It may be one of the most popular topics on which to preach…and by far, the simplest. 

I think that preaching on the prodigal son is a cop out.  Before you stone me, let me explain.

It is really easy to put the responsibility on people who leave the church on those people.  I understand the idea that if someone wants to leave, let them leave.  If they return, they’ll appreciate being back.  If they don’t return, it’s probably better for everyone involved.  I get that, and at one time, I was completely of that mentality.

HOWEVER…what happened to the two parables BEFORE the parable of the prodigal son?  In the parable of the lost sheep (the first in the series) the shepherd leaves 99 sheep to go after one sheep.  In church terms, the pastor walks away from 99% of his people to go after 1%.  Logically, this doesn’t make any sense.  It’s a huge risk.  What if the other sheep wander off?  What if a pack of wolves come and eat some of the sheep?  What if the 99 sheep function just fine without the shepherd?  (Oops…did I just type that?) 

How about the parable of the lost coin?  The woman has a total of 10 coins and loses one.  This woman goes CRAZY, turning her house upside looking for one coin.  She went WAY out of her way to look for that one coin.  She had 90% of the coins.  Wasn’t she overreacting?  (Please don’t get all spiritual, proving how much greek you know by telling me that this coin was her dowry…I know that already.) 

Here is my question.  Why is it that so many people gloss over the TWO PARABLES IN WHICH JESUS DESCRIBES SOMEONE GOING AFTER SOMETHING SOMEONE OF VALUE? 

I understand that in any group of people that there will be attrition.  It is basic group dynamic that some people won’t like what is being preached, what is being sung.  Something will always be wrong.  There are some people who will leave the church with their inheritance to go out and live la vida loca, but there are some people who leave the church, hurt and disillusioned and, instead of discerning that these people need to be reached, to be contacted, they are labeled prodigals. 

I will never hear the parable of the prodigal the same again.  And I will never see someone who leaves the flock–be it in church, in a group of friends, in a work environment–the same again.

Today I took a trip to Cape May, NJ.  I wanted to dip my feet into the ocean, and I wanted to see a lighthouse.  I’m a simple woman, really. 

Today as I was standing with my toes in the Atlantic, I felt like I touched eternity.  The sun has been beating down on the earth since the beginning of time as we know it.  The oceans have been crashing into the beach almost since the beginning of time.  And today, August 4, 2008, I touched that constancy.  My feet felt the coolness of the ocean, my shoulders the tinge of the sun.   

I hope that I never live more than an hour and a half away from the ocean, driving.  Being near the ocean makes me peaceful.  Being near the ocean, I can hear more clearly.  I can see more clearly.  I see myself more clearly than I can anywhere else.  I love watching people interact with the ocean…kids thinking that they can outwit the waves, predicting the force with which they will crash into land; adults cajoling or forcing their children to love the ocean as much as they do; men and women sunning themselves like reptiles, coated in sunscreen. 

I would’ve been much happier, though, had I not encountered that…rather chubby man who thought it would be a good idea to wear a speedo.  Seriously…I have an active imagination.  Can you please leave something for me to imagine?

Last night I was talking to one of my friends who is chasing her dream out in California.  She’s made some of the toughest decisions of anyone I know to get out there and stick it out.  To say that I admire her would be the understatement of the world.  She is one of those people who, just by talking to her about the most mundane things, causes some sort of change in my life.

Last night, my friend asked me a question.  Seemed so simple.  “Deneen, where do you want to be?”  I answered, without a second’s hesitation, Philadelphia.  Yeah.  I know.  Who would’ve thought?  Then we were talking about how so many of our friends are all strategically placed in California, living out their dreams.  I found myself saying, “You know what my dream is?  For all of your (all of my friends) dreams to come true.  For me, that would be my dream come true.”

I’ve been called a pillar, a backbone, superglue so many times throughout my life, and each time I laugh out loud.  I fight being those things.  They’re messy, dirty, thankless jobs.  It turns out that John Gamble, my high school principal, had it right when he gave me the “Unsung Hero” award when I was a senior. 

I don’t know where this is going to take me…but it’s the start of something.  City of Brotherly Love–watch out.  Looks like I’m here for a while.