Loving Out of Brokenness

This semester has been rough so far.

I don't know how to explain it. I guess I can't really. I have felt disconnected, withdrawn, quiet, selfish, short-tempered. Basically they're all the walls I am so apt at putting up when I don't understand my own heart.

I'm being rubbed raw. Stripped down. Broken. Exposed. My heart is in a place of deep, intense sadness that wells from something much deeper than circumstance. A lot of it, I think, doesn't actually have anything to do with me but with whatever it is God is teaching me to break for. But I don't know. I don't know much of anything these days.

The temptation I face every day is to hide. I have always been a runner at heart, and this is no different. I do not understand what is going on in my own heart, and it makes me want to pull the covers up over my head and shut out the noise, the ache, the mystery.

Thankfully, God is bigger than my cowardice and confusion. He teaches even when I try not to learn, speaks even when I try not to listen, loves even when I am running away. Is patient even when I am trying to love him with half my heart, and keep the other half for myself.

Thanks to some insight from a friend, I know what I am: lost. But not in the sense that I don't know where I'm going. I don't care where I'm going and I don't care about the plan. I just want Jesus and to know him more fully and to share his love more and more effectively with the people around me. It's not that I don't know where I'm going next. It's that I don't know where I am right now.

It's that I'm lost in my own brokenness. Lost in nursing an aching heart that breaks for something I'm not aware of. I'm lost and wandering, because I don't understand a single thing about my own heart at the moment. And yet, there is no escaping it.

What I do know is that God is good. That he loves me more than anything, and that there is a good reason that I am where I am at the moment. And that if my instinct is to run away, then what I should probably do is walk closer. That tends to be the way it works. If I am afraid, do it. If it makes my heart beat faster at the thought of it and I am instantly tempted to walk away or make excuses, then say yes and do it anyway.

What I do know is that beneath it all is my ever-present desire to love Jesus and love people. To know Jesus, and to know people. And I am comforted by God's promise that he will never stop doing good for me, and that he is stripping away the things that keep me from Jesus and from people. So, I may not understand it, and I may be broken for reasons I don't understand, but I thank God for it. He is doing me more good and showing me more of himself than I know.

I realized in class today that what my heart longs for is comfort. Because my heart is uncomfortable, and it longs to be otherwise. But that's a lie. Because all the comfort in the world won't satisfy. And the amazing thing about God is that he can rub your very soul raw, and still overwhelm you with peace and comfort.

And I feel an invitation in my soul at that. To intentionally leave comfort, to walk away from familiarity and convenience. To let the brokenness I don't understand encourage me to lay down my life for the people God has given me such a heart for. Because I am not the only one in the world who is broken for reasons unknown. I feel that stirring in my heart, to stop hiding and let this brokenness fuel actions and love.

Oh. I get it now.

This brokenness is not mine. It's a gift. To teach me to step beyond my own white picket fence and love well, love radically, love unexpectedly. And probably a hundred other things I don't know about just yet. But the point is, my humanity wants to shut out everything until I can shut up the brokenness enough to ignore it. But God's been inviting me to step towards it, step into it. He's inviting me to experience the depth of Himself found in loving out of a place of deep, Godly brokenness.

God is so good.  

Deutsch, oder Alemán?

So...

I've been learning German. I love it. It's so much fun, and I just love learning languages. It's awesome, and is such a blessing to me.

However...

I am a Spanish major. Meaning, I speak Spanish decently well. So, en mi mente, in my mind, there are two categories. Native language, and foreign language. And all foreign language is Spanish, because that's the only foreign language that I know. Correction, was the only foreign language I knew.

So most of the time, if you speak to me in a language that isn't English, my brain automatically goes to Spanish. But that doesn't exactly apply when you're sitting in German class. So, I end up doing a lot of translating from Spanish to English to German. It gets a little confusing. But I've managed to keep all the various languages in their proper places so far.

The other day my teacher, Regine, asked me a very simple question that I totally knew the answer to. Wie Uhr is est? What time is it? As she pointed to the time she had written on the board: 14:30. So, 2:30. I thought, "Awesome! I know this."

"Dos y media," I said, totally confident.

Right answer. Wrong language. And I could not, for the life of me, remember the answer in German. It's "Halb drei," in case you were wondering. But what makes it even funnier is, I couldn't even remember in English how to further explain why I was speaking Spanish. My brain just kept thinking in Spanish, and there was no changing it.

Lesson learned today? Only one language happens at a time. And apparently, I do not have control over which language that is. It's like for every situation a little war is waged in my brain, and one language always slaughters the other two. There's no switching once a victor has won... That language  fought valiantly and wields all control. Like a dictator. The other two languages are left lying in a bloody heap on the floor, never to rise again... Until the next war is waged, anyway.

I just have to hope that the victorious language corresponds to the language of the situation I find myself in. If not? Well... Maybe everyone else should learn English, German and Spanish too. Just to be on the safe side.

No Thanks

I have a philosophy in life: If there isn't a good reason to say "no," then you should say "yes."

Whether you agree or not, I tend to live my life this way anyway. I find myself saying, "why not?" a lot. And it leads to a lot of adventures. Some very unexpected. I love it.

I realized the one exception to this rule, though: relationships.

What made me realize this? I got asked out on a date last week.

Long story short, I was walking back from German class with a new found friend, talking about life and school, when he asks if I want to go out sometime. My first thought was, "I don't know you, and that wasn't very specific." But, I thought, give the guy a chance. Maybe he's just nervous. Who knows. Give 'em a shot. So I said sure, and gave him my phone number. My expectations were pretty much non-existent, however. And rightly so.

We have class together almost every day (German happens every day but Thursday, and we also have photography together twice a week.) So, I walk into German the next day and... nothing. He says nothing to me about asking me out the day before. I walk into photography later that night, where we sit right next to each other, and still nothing.

I had to laugh. I hadn't expected much in the first place, but I sometimes forget how "uncool" it is to be intentional. How a guy will wait a few days before asking a girl out so she doesn't think he's pushy or too interested. What a load of crap.

But, that's exactly what happened. I finally get a text three days later, asking if I'm busy tonight. I was alone, driving home to Saint Louis, and I literally laughed out loud. My response was something along the lines of "No thanks," and "You might not want to wait so long next time."

My boss thinks I'm crazy. Actually, her response when I told her this was, "Geez Ally. It's going to take an incredible guy to get you to say yes."

Well yeah it is. And I'm not sorry. I have no desire to be discouraging or anything, but I also won't sugarcoat or say yes when I am not being pursued the way I, as a daughter of God, should be. Which totally does not include being half-pursued and then ignored for three days :)

Mark Driscoll calls it Godly rudeness. That it's a good thing, because we women tend to be doors. We let everyone through who comes along and we let them into our lives and hearts. We are open to everyone. I've been there. I know what it feels like to be a door. You don't realize it when you're in the middle of it, but it sucks the life out of you. And makes it hard to realize just how good men can be, and just how you are supposed to be treated.

And then there are the women who are walls. You say no. With Godly rudeness. To everyone. Until the Lord tells you to say yes. I am learning to be a wall. But the big difference being, I'm learning to be a wall who is willing to say yes should God say so. Not a wall who blindly says no out of fear, but one who has pursued God's will and has found that the answer is still no.

That's a process. As always. But until I hear otherwise, the answer is still no.

For the sermon on this, that I think every girl (and guy, for that matter) should hear, check it out here: http://marshill.com/media/the-peasant-princess/i-was-a-wall

Chopped

Over the last few weeks, God has torn up much of my life. I have been in a bad mood for longer than I can remember ever being before. Why? Because he has dug up every lie I have ever believed about who I am and what I am worth. Sound fun? Well, it's not.

It has been really wonderful too though. Because as God has brought me face to face with those lies, as he has brought me into them and made me sit in them and truly feel, know, and name them, he has shown me more of himself. And that is worth more than anything in the world.

One of the biggest lies that I hear is that I am not beautiful. There is a deep-seated, constant fear that I am not beautiful. That I am too this or not enough that to be seen as lovely or captivating by anyone. It is the lie that causes me to make myself the brunt of most of my own jokes. If not me, than to tear someone else down to make myself feel better. It is the lie that has often caused me to grasp at every reflection I pass, willing myself to be lovely. It is a lie that continues to control me subtly and undeniably.

But in the midst of facing the truth about what I often believe, God is teaching me about true beauty. That he is a beautiful God and thus has created everything as beautiful. And that it is not within human capability to make beauty any less than it is. These are not new concepts to me. But they are vital in learning to not only ignore the lies of the enemy, but annihilate them completely.

So, I have taken a step back from beauty. I have recognized my good, Godly longing for it. And my sin in trying to grasp at what has already been given to me. He is teaching me much about the freedom of beauty. The freedom that comes from knowing that it is not something that can be hidden inside long, beautiful curls, a perfect face, or a size 2. That it was not meant to be something to bind us. It was something freely given so that we may have peace in it, in our perfect likeness to the most beautiful God. So that we can bless others and teach them to see their own beauty. We were never meant to spend our lives striving for beauty.

So I did the only logical thing:

I cut off all my hair.

Sorry for the terrible photo. 

And the thing is, I don't care if you think it looks great or terrible or stupid or fantastic. I didn't do it because I was looking for beautiful. I did it because I already found it, and I'm tired of being deceived into striving for it. And God met me there just as he promised he would. 

Because I am learning that the truth in the beauty of the flowers in the field, the sunset, the mountains... All those things that you look at and can't help but wonder at the glory of God? They apply to me too. I am learning to see God's glory in my reflection, and not my own. I don't see all the ways I don't measure up to everyone else... I see the beloved daughter of God that I am. Beautiful because the God of the universe, the Creator of beauty itself, lives and breathes in me. It's true of you, too.

Do you believe it? 

Or, more importantly: Do you live your life like you believe it?

If not, I want to challenge you to take a look at where your definition of beauty comes from. And maybe do something crazy. Step out on a limb. Take a risk. I promise you two things: God will meet you there if you let him, and you'll be just as beautiful as ever. 

You Don't Have to Stay Here

I am often plagued by nightmares. Less so than before, but they happen at least once a week or so. Sleep has never, really, been my friend. They don't really surprise me anymore, but are just simply expected. And then it is a sweet relief if they don't come.

I had one the other night that was unlike any I've ever had before. The darkness and fear, they were the same. But in the middle of it, everything stopped. A man appeared out of nowhere and said to me, "You don't have to stay here," and pointed to an open door. But I didn't understand. I couldn't comprehend what that meant. So I did what left me with gut-wrenching guilt and shame when I awoke: I turned back. I turned my back on the man offering me freedom, and I chose the horrifying.

Appalling, horrifying, terrifying, sickening. And yet, familiar. It was safe, in a way. Because it was all I had ever known. The unknown life waiting just beyond the light in the doorway was far more terrifying, in the moment, than the familiar nightmare.

I have not been able to shake the meaning of this. No, I don't normally read into dreams. But this was not a normal dream, and the truth echoing in it has stirred my soul unceasingly. That pull in my soul has said, "Pay attention." So I'm paying attention.

I've been reading The Supernatural Ways of Royalty by Kris Vallotton. The book has hit home more than I thought it would. Partly, because Kris's story is similar to mine and he points out many of the struggles I face because of it. And partly because it addresses what God has been trying to teach me for a while now, I just didn't realize it: my identity.

I always thought it was solid. My identity is in Christ, and I have always rested in that. What I am realizing now, though, is just how many lies I have been told about my value, and how they still affect the way I live my life. And resting in my identity in Christ cannot be complete and wholehearted until the lies I used to believe are defaced.

That's a scary thing. To open yourself to every fear you ever faced, every one of the innumerable lies you were told about your value, every single thing you have always feared was actually true. Even if you know it isn't. Because it's familiar, the presence of those lies.

But, as I was reminded the other night, "You don't have to stay here." There is a truth, an identity I have never truly taken ahold of, waiting for me. That of a daughter of a king. A princess. Immensely valuable. I want to turn back to the familiar nightmare no more.

I don't really have any idea what this means. It is difficult, but I can tell I am at the beginning of something wonderful. Something immensely hard, but wonderful. And I do not face it alone. And at the end of it, God has graced me with a promise: that I will know who I really am and how incredibly loved I have always been.

Any fear pales in comparison to that sweet, sweet promise.

I don't think I'll stay here anymore. 

The Warmth of the Cold

Sam and I are currently in Bozeman, Montana. As we make our trek back from a wonderous week in Seattle, there have been unending thoughts crossing my mind. There has been much depth in my heart today, as I have thought and ruminated on the things God has been teaching me. I am still working on writing that down. This is something of less depth.

But as I was thinking the same string of thoughts and questions I've pondered all day long, I walked outside. I walked out to the car to grab my ever-present and necessary Chapstick, when I stopped and felt the chilly breeze on my face.

It's August, but the night is chilly. The air is dry and crisp, and it smells like a late October night in Saint Louis. I loved every second of it. I could almost smell the colors of fall and hear the crisp sound of leaves on the ground.

I can't explain it. The silence that comes from a chill in the wind, the overcast of the clouds in the sky or the dull residual light of a sun long gone. I am weird, I know. But the cold, the dark... It's like home to me. To love it is so strange to most people, but it's all I have ever known.

Don't get me wrong. I love a good hot day spent swimming and (hopefully someday) surfing and sailing. I love wearing my Chacos and running through the sprinkler. And I am certain I would long for the warmth of the sun on my face if it ceased to exist.

But nothing, nothing satisfies my soul the way it was satisfied tonight. Embraced by a chill in the air, the smell of freshness and life and color, the sweet comfort of darkness and stars and silence.

I couldn't help but stop and worship. To revel in the circumstances I was made to love and thrive and see so much of God in. I couldn't help but cry out "Abba," and smile in thanksgiving and joy.

Which was, I think, exactly the point. 

Old Habits

I had to laugh today.

Just yesterday, Sam and I were talking. We've got a 45 minute drive every day, so we cover a few topics. But yesterday we were talking about being gracious receivers. This is something that has always been difficult for both of us. God has been gracious and good, as always, and has taught us both a lot about allowing other people to love and serve us.

It's kind of funny, because service is something that comes so naturally to me. But learning to allow other people to serve me? That has been a long process. We were talking about how far we have come, and how much God has changed our hearts in this. In being gracious receivers, and not being stubborn and refusing to let anyone do anything for us.

And it's true. We have come a long way. I know I am not at all the person I was before. Even in the last year my heart in that has changed so much. My willingness to allow people to love me by doing things for me... It used to be that I didn't want to owe anyone anything. Then I didn't want anyone to have to do things for me, because I didn't need them to. I wanted them to save their service for someone who needed it, you could say. I have only recently learned that it is just as loving to accept service from others as it is to give it out. Funny how that works....

I had to laugh because Sam and I were just talking about this. And then today, at the end of a very long, hot day, I had an empty water cooler to walk up to the office. It wouldn't fit on the golf cart, so one of my friends grabbed the cooler and told me to take the golf cart and that he'd walk. Without a thought, like a reflex, I told him not to worry about it, that he could take the golf cart and I would carry the water cooler. The look I got said, "You're crazy if you think I'm going to make you walk." And I had to laugh.

Some habits die hard, I guess. Though my reasoning isn't the same as before, it comes down to the same thing. Which that reason then boils down to the same thing that drives all my sin: pride. That stubborn pride that God promises to tear down, thankfully. One water cooler at a time :) I am so grateful for a God who is patient and loving and good. And for friends who don't offer to serve, they just do.

One of many lessons I have learned over the last few weeks. More on this later. :)