God of the Waiting

It could be an entry about how terrible the waiting is. But you probably already know that. It could be an entry about how I can't do it, how my heart longs for the answers and redemption to the things I've been praying for so long. I could drone on, words upon words expressing a heart that just longs for elsewhere.

It could be that. 

But what would that accomplish? 

Because when it truly comes down to it, here's what I know:

God is good. God is faithful. He is true and loving and sovereign. He is God. 

How often do I cry out, oh Lord, how long? 

I have no right. Yet he is still so gentle. 

How many times do I complain instead of being grateful for the many things he has done?

How often is my heart millions of miles away when he's calling me here.? Right next to him, nestled in his love.

But his gentleness is a depth I'll never comprehend. He silences my restlessness with his love. He answers my questions with promises of his faithfulness.
Despite the struggle of flesh and spirit. Despite my daily failures and fears. Despite my victories and triumphs. Despite all those things, he is worth it. 

Because greater than being God of the waiting is that He is God of faithfulness. He is the one who holds me tight when I've already let go. He is the one who whispers truths and promises, when my heart is blinded by the doubts.

(Psalm 62:5-7; 63:8)
For God alone, o my soul, wait in silence.
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress, I shall not be shaken.
my mighty rock, my refuge is God...

My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.

God is still God in the waiting. He is still faithful in the seemingly silent times. He is here and he is still worthy of my praise.
He is my reason to sing. He is the reason I'm still trudging along this path called life. He who has called me is faithful. And if I AM says wait forever, then that is what I will do, because I know He will still be right here next to me, holding my heart, until I walk across Heaven's threshold and He looks me in the eye and says, "Well done, my child. Enter in and rest."

It's All Part Of The Adventure

I sat in the windowsill running my fingers along the thick strings of an unfamiliar guitar, pretending I was expressing my heart through music as I've never been able to do. The clouds outside the window were dreary and cars lazily passed below me. The moment felt nostalgic. How many strange homes have I been in? Homes larger than this one, homes tinier than my bedroom. How many buildings have my feet stepped in. I've been thousands of feet above the ground over looking cities in large skyscrapers and I have climbed mountains and watched the people as they passed as ants beneath my eyes. I have felt minuscule in comparison to the stars as galaxies float above my head, I've been on top of the world when the Creator of the Universe, comes down from Heaven and says my name, so gently, so filled with love. I've felt the weight of tragedy, I've sat cross-legged drinking chai in homes down dirt roads no one knows exists and heard stories of people who just needed hope. I've poured my heart out on children who don't know love. My life has been fairly beautiful up until this point, and I have concluded that I am blessed beyond words, grateful beyond feeling.
In just one year I have made friends from all over the world. India. Nicaragua. Mexico. Holland. Russia.
I have friends that no one knows exist. I've met beautiful people to whom I was the first white person they ever laid eyes on. I've learned languages and given Bibles to people who never owned one. I've touched a woman with tumors covering her skin. I've held the hands of orphans and told them about the love of Jesus.
I have traveled roughly 4,389 miles to and from Louisville, to North Carolina twice, Tennesee and Virginia. I have flown 37,584 miles to and from India and 10,248 miles to and from Nicaragua. (Yes I did just take the time to calculate that for about 15 minutes.)
Let's just say, I've been a lot of places. I've done a lot of things. The thing I can't get over is

that's just one year.

In one year, Jesus took me on the greatest adventure of my life. Yet He promises, "We're not done yet."

Recently my adventure has slowed down a little, I'm back and grounded in Lancaster County. I'm nannying for 4 adorable children.
A few weeks ago, my three year old had left a teddy bear at the library. We forgot Buzzy in a whirlwind of trying to get the kids in the car in a torrential downpour that had decided not to stop.
I couldn't go back.
I emailed my kid's mom and let her know we forgot and I felt terrible.
And she said something that struck me.
She said,

 "It's all part of the adventure."

My first thought was to contradict that statement. This is not an adventure! It's mundane, it's daily and grueling. Oh, but this is part of the adventure.
Miss Word Girl over here looked up the etymology of the word. (How proud my 7th grade history teacher would be.)

Adventure: the encountering of risks.
                an exciting or remarkable experience

But then I decided to break it down further and make my own definition.

Advent: a coming into being or use
ure: the act or process

Therefore, the adventurer is the one who is performing the act of coming into being.
That definition is beautiful.
I'm an adventurer because I am forever learning the art of coming alive. Jesus is teaching me what it means to come alive. I don't know if this means as much to you as it does to me. But for me, it's a promise. It's a promise from Jesus telling me, "Leah, we're still on this adventure together. Grand things are still happening. The journey isn't over yet. A new year is coming. The adventure will continue."
In remembering this past year and the adventure I have embarked on, whether it has been playing duck duck goose in the middle of a dirt path and having to move because of cows. Or laying on the hard floor of a church because we drove 8 hours to share our hearts with 6 youth. Or shouting the banana song at the top of our lungs to a group of over 100 women just to share with them about Jesus.
Or now, sitting on the carpet with my 2 and 3 year olds and playing with them. It's all part of the adventure.
It's all about coming alive. It's all about my sanctification of becoming more like Jesus. It's all to know Him and make Him known.
The adventure doesn't have to be thousands of miles away. It doesn't have to be road trips with your best friends, and running through an airport so you don't miss your flight. The adventure doesn't have to be about rediculous stories that will make you laugh for years to come. The adventure isn't even about the mundane.
The adventure is about being obedient to a call that is bigger than you. And being faithful to the One that loves you bigger than the Universe. That's the adventure.
So as this year comes to a close, all I want to do is whisper "Thank you," to my Savior and Best Friend who knows the plans He has for me, and is about to take me on an even greater adventure.

O Come All Ye Faithful

O come all ye faithful joyful and triumphant
Oh come ye O come ye to Bethlehem;
come and behold him born the King of angels;
O come let us adore him Christ the Lord.

I have been thinking a lot about this song. And I can't get past this one idea. The faithful aren't perfect. The faithful didn't have it easy. 
The faithful are broken. The faithful are tired and beaten down.  
I was thinking about the definition of faithful, I couldn't just settle with the one that meant I was loyal to the end. Yes, The call is to those of us who are faithful to the end. 
But there's another definition, me being who I am, in love with words, I looked it up.

Faithful: Full of Faith.

How intricitatly simple? 

Faith: A strong belief or trust in someone or something. 

Christmas is a call to those who are full of faith. And those of us who are full of faith are broken, we are tired, we sometimes feel like we cannot face one more day. But that, is what brings us to be full of faith.
Christmas is a call to the weary. Christmas is a call to those who have been trying and failing. Christmas is a call to the helpless.

Mary, abandoned by all that love her, except for Joseph. Mary, weary from a long journey, the Christ within her. Mary, with young, tired eyes, full of faith, was faithful to the One who called her, the One she would soon call Son and Savior.
Joseph, ridiculed by his desicion to love a supposed harlot. Joseph, also exhausted from the travel, knew what was ahead. He knew fleeing would be in their life, He knew heartache would be there, Fathers know. Yet Joseph, full of faith, was faithful to pour His love on the ones who needed it.
The innkeeper, so done with every person that walked to his door and asked for room. He had none of it. But this couple that gave Him a strange sense of peace, full of faith, that the 'yes' in His heart might change his life that night. And He faithfully said yes, to the family, and the new baby He would begin to follow.

That night, everyone involved in the story, I believe, was weary. They were so tired of waiting, so at the end of their rope. And that is when the Baby was born. In the exact place where everyone needed to be reminded of the call to be faithful. They were given fulfillment to their belief in something bigger.
That baby was hope incarnate.

The night was so long ago, but it doesn't lose it's magic. We are reminded of the beauty in every child's excited eyes. I can see the Hope every time I see the broken look up from their weeping and remember this day is for them.

My mom adored the song O Come All Ye Faithful. And I think it was because it spoke to many places of her life.
This song seems to speak to those who have completed their walk, Jesus in heaven saying "O come, my faithful, joyful and triumphant. Come and enter in to the rest."
But it speaks to us too. It speaks to those of us who are still in the grime, the fear and this painful world.
The song says to us, "Come to me, those of you who are full of faith. Come and I will teach you where joy comes from. Come and we will triumph together. Come for you are not alone. Come, for I love you. Come."

The song ends with the simplistic, beautiful refrain. O Come Let Us Adore Him.
This one is a call to those of us who are in every walk of life. Come, Let's Adore Him. He came to heal our brokenness, He came to bind up our wounds. He came to Hold us.
He stepped down from Heaven into our broken, sinful world. He laid in a manger, in the womb of a virgin, so that He could Love us.
His death aside, I think His entrance into our lives is the most simplistic. Easter is His Sacrifice screaming to our sinful lives saying, "I have come to redeem!" Easter is our sin bared upon His sinless body.
But Christmas, is His gentle entrance into our lives. Meeting us where we are at. Promising more to come.
Maybe You are at the beginning of your walk with Christ and He just casually walked into your life.
Maybe You are midway and tragedy has struck. Maybe someone you loved dearly has gone too soon.
Maybe you are at the end, and you cannot wait for Jesus to look you in the eyes and say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Wherever you are, He will meet you.

Like I said, this song, spoke to many areas of my mom's life. It spoke to her in the beginning when life was seemingly perfect.
And it continued to speak to her when she sat in a doctor's office and they diagnosed her with a cancer that would eventually take her life. It spoke to her and cancer crept in and stole her breath away, but never stole her Life.
It spoke to her in the end, when Jesus looked her in the eyes and say, "Come, my faithful One."
And now this song has fallen to me. Right in the middle. Right in the middle of grief and pain and waiting. The message that Jesus is speaking to me is one that says, "I know your tired, I know it's hard. I know. But I love you, And I will show you how to thrive, we will be triumphant together. Come, Leah, full of faith, full of life, come, and I will give you rest."
With that message, I can't help but adore him. With how I've seen Him work, I can't help but long to spread this message around the world, "Oh come, Let us adore Him."

Joy To The World

The past few months of my life have been a little lonely. I spent a year with incredible humans, I developed deep relationships. There is a depth to relationships that were built on solid ground. There is something about roaming the streets of other countries and seeing poverty together. Something about seeing another's deepest hurts plastered on the wall and learning how to comfort together. There is something deep that I cannot explain to you unless you've experienced it. 

And this week, two of my friends from this past year of my life came to visit. I cannot express how glorious it was. We had joy. For the first time in a few months we remembered what it was like to not be lonely. 

It was a gift from the Lord, really. A gift of laughter, friendship, smiles and joy. 

And I am reminded of a greater gift during this season. A gift that makes mine seem to only touch the surface. 

Jesus. 

Jesus was personified joy to the world. The gift He was that He came in the form of a human child. When I come to think of it, I realize that God sending Jesus in human form was the greatest way of giving the gift of redemption. 

Life is the most beautiful thing. There is something splendid from seeing flowers bloom or snow fall white from the grey sky. But the most satisfaction we receive in life is from relationships. Our joy comes from sharing life with others. We rejoice when others rejoice. 

Friendship is a priceless gift, something no wrapping paper could replace and no enemy could steal it away. And I think that is why, one night, thousands of years ago, God sent Jesus. In the form of a human child. Not a wrapped gift that said "Grace." Or a feeling in the sky called Peace. He came in the likeness of man. One who could form deep and beautiful relationships with those around Him. 

His humanity was the reason someone wrote a song called "Joy to the world." It is the relationship that brings us joy. It is the depth He takes us to and the value He places on us. It is the way He speaks to us as His children and His friend. 

Joy to the World,

The Lord has come.

Let every heart prepare Him room.

Because, He brought joy to the world.

I love how the classic carol ends with the phrase "And wonders of His love." 

Joy to the world in the beginning, and wonders of His love at the end. The most beautiful of stories.

The gift was friendship, the gift that blessed our hearts with perfect joy and love. 

Thank you, Lord, for not sending us a wrapped up gift like Santa Claus, but for giving yourself so that we could enjoy you, so that we could learn to love you. 

O Holy Night

The Advent season is upon us. The season where we begin to turn and look to our Savior's coming.

I've decided to do a mini blog Christmas series on some of my favorite Christmas carols. O Holy Night is my first one.

O Holy Night

The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees O hear the angels voices.
O night divine O night when Christ was born
O night divine, O night, O night divine.

Sometimes we get lost in the complicated words and the pretty tune that we miss the weight of the words we sing. 

The Weary World 
The World, so weary. The world, longing, anticipating redemption. The hearts, waiting for something, anything to break the system of sacrifice and fear and guilt. The hearts waiting for the day when they would see their Savior face to face. The people walking admist the Valley of Baca (The Valley of Weeping), blessed as they make it a place of springs, a place of Hope. (Psalm 84:6) The Valley where they pilgrimage to the place of their forefathers, the city of Refuge, to meet their God.
The Heart, so weary.

A Thrill of Hope
Maybe the star shining brightly. Or the serenity of the evening. Or the fact that they've waited so long for restoration. But it's there. A thrill of Hope. The whole world can feel it, in light of a baby. In light of the change in the atmosphere. The prophecies coming true, the words of ancient times pointing to the Time of Redemption. Pointing to the Savior. A thrill of Hope, the weary world rejoices.

Till He Appeared and The soul felt His worth
Years would pass before they realized the importance of the sacred night. But He came. Jesus came forth as a baby in a womb and grew in strength and wisdom. And the weary hearts began to feel His worth. Each footprint He placed in the sand he was bringing the story of redemption. He was bringing the joy of abundant life. He was bringing the Kingdom, the perfect, peace and joy filled Kingdom, to the weary world.

Fall On Your Knees
Fall on your knees, in thanksgiving. Fall on your knees as you cast your sins and fears and brokenness at the feet of the One who can change it all.
Fall on your knees in humility. As you realize how short you have fallen, your sacrifices cannot measure up. Fall on your knees as you grasp the knees of your Savior whose Sacrifice is enough. Fall on your knees as you meet the One who silences all your questions and fears with the statement, "I AM."

O Holy Night
The night that adjectives fail to describe happened for me. When the Son of God was sent to a virgin's womb. The night when God Himself laid in a manger, when God in holy humility came to take on the sins of the world. When God chose to walk this earth to demonstrate how life was meant to be lived.

For us today, we have a thrill of Hope because our Hope is Here. Our Hope is walking with us, we have a thrill of life because we have learned how to Live. We have learned how to love.
Today, our soul's can feel His worth when we read of who He was, but more importantly when we walk beside Him. Jesus appeared to take your weary heart and turn it towards His Own, so that you would fall on your knees and feel the depth of His Worth. Yes, it was a holy night, but isn't every night? Isn't every night just as sacred when we are in humbly awed by the beauty of our Savior who appeared in the Valley of Baca for us?
I alluded to the Valley earlier. But the Valley of Baca was the Valley before the cities of refuge. The Valley before reaching the Lord. Jesus appeared to walk the Valley of Baca with us, and that is how in Psalm 84:6, we can turn the Valley of weeping and the desert into a place of springs. Because our weary hearts have seen Jesus' value. And we have chosen to walk in this O Holy Night every day.

He Will Deliver Us Again

There is this gem of a scripture hidden within 2 Corinthians. It's written right past the passage about comfort.

2 Corinthians 1:8-11
 For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and He will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.

Such vivid language, Paul. Can you hear his despair?
For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.
Have you been there? Carrying the weight of the world in your hands? Tears streaming down your face and you turn to the heavens and whisper, "Jesus, I just want you to hold me."
That point where you feel Paul's lament. Oh Lord, take me home.. but oh how I want to serve you!
Yes, I have despaired of life itself.
Have you ever been just so tired? So tired of fighting against the grain? So tired of pouring everything you have into a leaking cup? So tired when Jesus says, "Beloved, keep on giving." The gentle request is to give my all.
Have you been there? Yes, I have been there. Most often, I'm still there.
Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death.
I question, Haven't we already been brought to life? Aren't the readers of this book already redeemed? We were once dead, and now we are alive! How can it be that we still feel we receive the sentence of death? This comforts me. That others have felt the same that I feel. That even Paul, one of the founding fathers of our faith has felt the sentence of death. Further in Corinthians there is this tiny phrase the leapt off the page. It said this: conflicts on the outside, fears within.
We aren't alone. These feelings of, "How long, O Lord, How long?" are okay!
As long as I don't remain there.
But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.
The reason for the world. Often we search, up and down, side to side for a reason. A simple statement that answers every single question that floats and flitters through our mind as to why.
And Paul tells us, to make us rely not on ourselves but on God.
I think God knows. Actually, I know He knows my inner battle of temptation to despair or hope. He takes these circumstances that tempt me to despair and He paints hope through my world. My great and beautiful Artist paints hope across my dismal skies. He takes my fallen face with tear stricken cheeks and lifts my head. He says, "My Child, I AM."

So much meaning packed into one tiny statement. Every question is answered in that one simple statement. I AM.
He delivered us from such a deadly peril.
We lament, we despair, we scream. WHERE ARE YOU?
He delivered us.
In Psalm 77, The author is lamenting. He is surrounded by His deadly peril. Just read the first few lines. He cries, he seeks, he is weary, he faints, he moans. And he says one thing, my soul refuses to be comforted. He realized he was being comforted, yet his soul had refused the comfort. 

And he makes an appeal to remember his song in the night. He knows God, he has a relationship with Him. What was it from so long ago that made his heart sing? 

It was the steadfast love of The Lord. It was knowing his goodness. It was remembering that he delivered us from a deadly peril: death itself. 

It was because of his redemption that our souls cried, "O death, where is your victory. O death, where is your sting?"

Death has no victory. Despair has no sting. Because we have been delivered. I remember my song in the night. 

On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. 

Hope: to cherish a desire with anticipation. 

It isn't quite as easy as it sounds to hope.  Doubts get in the way. Little lies creep in the places of light and the luscious gardens of peace and joy. And I begin to see things from my own perspective. Romans 8 tells us that we must hope for the things we don't see patiently. 

We cannot see how he will deliver us. We want it now. We want the freedom and comfort and security. That's why when he tells us to ask, he says ask and keep on asking, seek and  keep on seeking. That's why he doesn't give us answers right away but says, "Be still, Beloved."

And because I know who he is, because I remember my song in the night, because I can stare the horrors of death in the face and laugh, "O where is your sting?" Because of this, I have set my hope that he will deliver us again.

As the winter makes his slow, painful appearance, my heart wonders how it will ever remain warm. I remember his faithfulness. I remember his goodness.
And I know, I am confident, that he will deliver us again.

When Dead Things Fall

I watch the colors fall like rain around me, making my heart dance. And I've decided one thing, I'm in love with the colors. I'm in love with the fact that things don't stay the same. My God is one who is always doing something new. He is always making all thing new.

He created our world to move like that. It begins in the summer, where everything is alive, things are new and breathing. My heart beats to the life I see. When I awaken, it isn't hard to look around and agree with my lungs, "Oh yes, keep breathing." I see life and beauty. I see love and adventure. With every heartbeat my soul sings gratitude. My mouth whispers for life to stay like this forever. If I only knew the definition of forever.

Fall comes though, the air becomes crisp. And I begin to see something glorious happen. The fierce green turns into blazing colors. The colors I only dreamed of in the summer.

Crisp autumn air fills my lungs, the leaves crunch beneath my feet. The wind whispers of the change that's coming. The clouds restlessly move across the sky, unable to stay in one position for long.  The leaves, the stunning leaves, comes vivid colors.

Blazing fire red.

A dying sun's orange glow.

The color of happiness, yellow.
When dead things fall, it's beautiful. Oh, how stunning the colors are when they glint in the light, blanketing the slowly dying grass. 

Part of me longs for the constant summer sun tinting the color of my skin, while the other part of me is thriving on the still, small voice that says, "Behold, I am doing a new thing." 

 The part about fall that is the hardest to take is the cold. It comes with the beauty of the falling of leaves. Without the foreseen bitter, those beautiful colors would never dance across the sky.

I take it in stride, keeping my eyes on the beauty. My eyes flicker back though to the warmth, the adventures and the joy.

The truth of the word of God breezes across my heart "forgetting what lies behind, straining towards what is ahead."

His future looked a lot dimmer than mine. Shipwrecks, beatings, persecution, being stoned and whippings. 

The future I'm frightened to see doesn't have quite that threat. Why is it so hard to forget what I've left behind? 

"Behold, I am doing a new thing." The constant words, the consistency of the promise.

But seriously, I look at Paul. The one who claimed to be the scum of the earth, the one who told us of things that instill fear, the one who brought to us a Gospel unlike any other, a Father of our faith. I look at Paul who stands, a prisoner on a ship that has been in a storm for 14 days, lead the shipmates in thanksgiving to God. Because He was confident God would save them. This is the man that says this,

"For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."

I have learned the secret.

 Oh Paul, enlighten me! What is the secret?

Why didn't he tell us the secret?

He wanted us to experience the joy of learning. 

I am learning.

Let me enlighten you though. The secret is Jesus. Who else could bring contentment in starvation. Or in my current case, of facing plenty. Who else but Jesus could bring that contentment?

Who else could wash a peace over my heart as I watch beauty fall to the ground. I could see death, but I see promises of life. 

Who else is there?

He has promised me He is doing a new thing. I am confident in His promises. I am confident in His love. I am learning the secret of contentment.

I watch the leaves again, and I see more than these dead leaves falling. I see dead roots within lives around me falling, dying beautifully. Winter threatens fear and isolation. Winter reminds me of a seemingly never-ending dead. But I have learned the secret of being content. I have learned the secret. Jesus.

I am learning how to know Him, who does things mysteriously and miraculously. 

I have learned the secret that with Jesus, when dead thing fall, life is just around the corner.