The First Step into the Rest of my Life

The latest question that people have nonstop asked me for the past six months of my life.
"So, what are you doing now?"
"What are your plans?"
"When's your next adventure?"
"How long are you home for?"
The question became quite the annoyance to answer considering I had zero answers.
I'm nannying.
No, I don't know my plans.
No, I don't know my next adventure.
No, I don't know how long I'm here for.

Waiting on the Lord to speak felt like forever. As I mentioned in my last blog, He had many things to work in me as I waited. Things I could only gain in the specific season of waiting for the next step of my life. He built in me unquenchable Hope in who He is and what He is doing in the lives around me and mine. He has strengthened my trust in Him, reminding me countless times of people in the Bible when you can through, without question. He showed me all the times in my life that He has done that for me.
Up until January I still really wanted to go back to YWAM Louisville. I was hoping and praying that I would complete my time at home in obedience and then the Lord would finally open the door to go back.
But in January I went down to Louisville with my friend. And while I was there God opened my eyes to how YWAM had been my launching pad, not my ministry to stay in. I would never get back the season I had there. My time with YWAM had been a much needed time of discipleship, healing and learning. It had been a time of discovering my passions and my spiritual gifts. It was an incredible time with deeper friendships than I'll ever know, friendships I'll never let go.
And when I came home, I was at peace. But now the questions became, "What now?"
My own plans slipped through my fingertips. It was God saying, "Leah, trust me. I have things for you that you'll never imagine."
And the waiting began again, and I began to wonder if it would ever end. My favorite band sang, "If this waiting lasts forever, I'm afraid I might let go."
But in the perfect timing, God started stirring. My dreams started growing and my mind started working.
I am about to say something I never thought I would say. It has taken a miracle to say it.
I am going to college.
One day I was telling my best friend that I didn't ever want to go to college. And less than two weeks later, I was on my way to applying, and excited about it.
My dreams started growing for helping people in deeper ways than I was capable. I started realizing how I wanted to skillfully meet the deeper needs of one's heart. I wanted discipleship and I wanted to be a missionary.
And I don't know how else to tell you that I know, except that I know college is the next step for me.

So I am excited to announce that in the Fall of 2015 I will be attending Lancaster Bible College majoring in Professional Counseling working towards a Master's.
I am ecstatic and terrified that this is my next step.
Since finding out, I go through waves of fear and excitement.
But ultimately, I cannot wait for what the Lord is going to do and where He is going to take me.

Winter Snow

"You came in like a winter snow.
Quiet and soft and slow."

It's been a winter of the soul. The spring and summer were magnificent. The beauty of what happened when my soul finally came alive after so long happened quickly and gloriously. I was free and innocent, daughter of my father in heaven, dancing with him after a terrible tumble that left me in despair for far too long. My trust grew as he awakened spring in my soul and slowly led me, slowly showed me how to dance again. I was alive and I wanted to explore the depth of every forest and every field that He had grown within me and around me. The summer was just that, I ran through every field and every forest. Baffled as a child looking at every intricacy of life God created for me. Amazed, standing on mountaintops. Full of praise looking back at the valleys of tears that He had wiped away. I found new and beautiful places to step foot in, I discovered what pleased his heart and learned how to thrive when everything and everyone around me was so alive. I developed this passionate desire to bring life to every soul, every heart.

But you've already read about that season in my life. 

And then God called me back to the place I wanted to be least. And this winter season of my soul began. I opened my eyes and realized the sun had gotten lower in the sky. 

The fall came quickly, seemingly stealing life from my heart and I had to burrow down deep. 

I was lonely with few local friends, I was fighting battles daily against my flesh and I was waiting for that moment when Jesus would tell me to go back into the ever-green forest that brought me so much life and gave me so much passion. But he wasn't speaking about that. He was showing me that this winter wouldn't last forever. He was telling me that hope would not disappoint me. A lie I had believed for too long was going to be broken. 

"Hope." He said. "Hope in me. Hope in who I am, not in what you can do." 

The lyrics from my favorite Christian band became my melody. 

"If this waiting lasts forever, I'm afraid I might let go." "I could just sit and wait for all your goodness, hope to feel your presence again, but you have called me higher, you have called me deeper." "If there is victory, you sing it over me now, your peace is a melody, you sing it over me now."

The winter has been long. Longer than I've ever known anything to last.

Yesterday, we had a glimpse of spring. My heart was happier than the sun. I had flipflops on and there was this deep joy in my heart, not because of of the spring, but because I know that God is bringing the spring back in my life. 

And I've seen that I needed the winter. I have desperately needed it just as much as I needed the spring. 

The winter has taught me how to hope steadfastly. It has taught me how to hope in The Lord as my only source and nothing else. The winter has taught me to wait. Patiently. For his timing and no one else's. 

It has taught me that his grace truly is sufficient for me. Days I go without are train wrecked. Days where Jesus is the number one flow. 

This winter has also allowed a season of stillness to cultivate new friendships. Coming home in the fall, all my local friends were either super busy with college or far off. And within the last few months, I have developed a deep friendship that I wouldn't have found if I hadn't had this season.

I am thankful for the winter and for the things it has cultivated within me.

One of my favorite music artist's Audrey Assad sings a song called Winter Snow. She sings, "You came in like a winter snow, quiet and soft and slow."

Like the winter snow that so gently falls, calming the world, stilling the wind and trees, was how The Lord came.
So gently He came and told me of the coming season, Gently He has worked the things I've needed for the next season within me.
He came to me like a winter snow.
And now, Spring is coming. The spring is blossoming in my heart. 

Four Hundred and Ninety Times

The question was imposed upon Jesus, "How often will my brother sin against me and I forgive him? As many as seven times?
I believe Jesus was slightly broken by this questions, thinking "Seriously? You still don't get it?"
But Jesus replies with an answer that baffles the minds of all listening.
He says "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven."
In the ears of the fellow Jews, in the culture they were living in, they knew Jesus was implying that it was not four hundred and ninety times in a lifetime, but in one twenty-four hour period.
He was in a sense saying, "Forgive the same sin on the same day every two minutes."
There is a person in my life who I feel as if I must forgive her of the same sin on the same day every thirty seconds. And let me tell you, it's hard.
I've been telling her, Yes, I forgive you. It's okay. It's fine.
But I thought about it. Am I really forgiving her? Or am I still holding all the things against her in my heart? I've put stipulations on her, I'll forgive you when you change. I'll forgive you when I see you choosing to walk away from the things you are doing. If you do this, then you will be worthy to receive my forgiveness.

What if Jesus did that to me? 

What if Jesus said, "I'll forgive you when I see your change. I won't believe your repentance until to stop these sins that you just seem to write off as unimportant."
No conditions, no stipulations He has looked at my sin and covered it with His blood. He has said to me "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in me."

I have read Romans 8 a million times and recently, I have decided to memorize it. And no matter how many times I have read it, I've missed something so vital. Repeating it again and again to myself, I've had a revelation.
He tells us that setting the mind on the things of the Spirit is to live by the Spirit and to set the mind on things of the flesh is to live by the flesh. Even though, I've grown up in the church, these words get lost amidst the other words that we associate with fluent church language.
Put to death the deeds of the flesh, we say. Live by the Spirit. And often, I think, that because the Holy Spirit dwells within me, I have already done this. I already live by the Spirit, so why worry?
Living by the Spirit is a choice.
When I choose the Spirit, I gain life abundantly over living within a spirit of fear.
I gain peace over worry. I am valued as a child of God, completely secure in my identity over desperately trying to do things to fit in.
I see the direction for my life instead of choosing some random path because of my lack of trust.
The list need not continue because the benefits of choosing to listen, hear and obey the Spirit are more valuable than choosing the momentary distractions of the flesh.

Love is greater than anything I have ever known. Love has pursued me and filled me up. Love is overflowing out of me because of what has been done for me. And I come to know that it is empowered supernaturally within me. Only with the Spirit can I be patient and not irritable and steadfast for those who need it. Only with Love Himself can I love and be loved.

Four Hundred and Ninety times. Live by the Spirit four hundred and ninety times. Choose forgiveness four hundred and ninety times. Love four hundred and ninety times every day.
Later in Romans 8 after Paul has given us his talk on living by the spirit and not the flesh, he says this, "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you."

One day all his promises He has given us, One day everything we've given our lives for will come into fruition. One day the things we have been waiting for will be fulfilled. One day we will finally see redemption win. We won't just see tiny glimpses that remind us that God is still working, we won't just hear a still small voice, we will see redemption win. We will see Jesus riding on a white horse, His Name will be Faithful and True. His eyes are like a flame of fire and on his head are many diadems and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords. And He will say "Come, gather for the great supper of the lame." Come.
On that day all will be worth it. On that day we will see how we have been forgiven four hundred and ninety times infinity, and with his eyes of fire that should bring judgement and wrath He looks at us with only love. And says come. Your name is written in my Book of Life, Come and enter into rest my beloved Child.
On that day, the weariness that comes with striving after love and faithfulness will be gone because we will see how it wasn't worth comparing to this glory we now see. One day, this hard life will be a blip on the span of eternity and we will be in a new Heaven and a New Earth walking eternity with Jesus Christ Himself.

Four Hundred and Ninety times I will forgive in my heart. Every day, Every sin, Every minute.
Four Hundred and Ninety times I will choose to be empowered by the Holy Spirit to live a life Holy and Pleasing to Him.
Because He is worth it, I have decided that He is far more valuable than my comfort. Far more valuable than my insecurity and fear.
He is worth more.
Four Hundred and Ninety times every second I will choose Him.

The Longing

The wake of someone else's tragedy has taken me back. In light of a familiar pain, my heart feels the loss, the amputation throbs yet again. 

Not as severely, not as overwhelming, but the sadness enters the hallways of my heart. 

And my heart bleeds for the friend who is walking the road of grief I have come to know all to well.

The beautiful longing enters in.

The longing arises out of the ashes that death leaves behind. 

It plants these simple seeds of faith.

Not just for the one I lost. But for what that loss birthed in me. 

It plants within us a desire to have things be the way they were before. They make us desire a better time, a better place.

It makes me long for my heavenly home. Not just because my mom will be there, but because it is this fantasy-like place where there will be no more tears or sorrows. No more fear or pain. This place that seems to be reality in the fairy-tales we watched as a child. This pure, unadultered, unstained place that draws our heart from the place it is now.

I want that place. I want that place where I can walk down streets of gold with only pure joy in my eyes and laughter in my heart, holding hands with Jesus, forever worshipping His greatness, forever communing with Jesus, the one Whom my soul loves.

  And that is what stirs a hope within me. That is what grows and cultivates my longing. 

Paul again so beautifully captures the longing in my favorite book of the bible, 2 corinthians. 

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God,  a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling...for while we are still in this tent we groan, being burdened-not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothes, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.   

 

How I relate to Paul. How I long for heaven on days when I am reminded of the pain. How I long for heaven for my friend who must walk this long and hard journey. 

How I yearn. 

Oh how I desire that beautiful place when sin is no longer a struggle, where death no longer sinks his vicious teeth into the flesh of those I love, where tears no longer burn down my cheeks mourning things I cannot understand. I want that place when I fully experience life abundantly. 
Oh how I want to be there.

But God gives us these stunning words in Revelation. These words of eternal hope and deep comfort.
Jesus whispers them softly to my heart on these days.
"Behold," His gentle words soothe my aching heart, "behold, I am making all things new."
"Behold. I am coming soon."

Those words are the reason for my joy. They are the very reason the bondage of this life has broken away from me. They are the very reason that this light and momentary affliction is nothing in comparison to Jesus. He Himself is the reason why I have taken my eyes off of this world that is growing strangely dim, in light of who He is.
Yes, we hurt. Yes, the Enemy is still out to steal, kill and destroy. But juxtaposed to the Life that He has brought me, I do not lose heart.
Because He is working an eternal weight of glory within me that is impossible to be compared to this affliction I now feel.

This place is filled with longing but it is the perfect place to know Jesus more. I press more into Him, I lean more fully on Him, I worship Him more honestly.
Therefore I cannot lose heart, because I have this treasure that the Lord is holding me. That He is working this out for my good. I have this promise that He is good. He is faithful. My pain will not be meaningless.

 

 

Learning to Thrive

Can you feel it? The dead of Creation is just pulling towards Hope. Can you hear it? The birds have begun to sing, expecting this to be a day when spring will arrive again. The temperature gives into the sun as it rises above freezing, feeling almost warm. The earth is ready. Can you feel it?

I think I'm learning to thrive.
I am exactly where I need to be.
I am experiencing the joy of obedience.
Because I finally have eyes to see. I can finally see Jesus in the coffee shops and letters. In the cold and in the warmth. In music and in late night chats with friends. In joy and in laughter. In the yearning and in the satisfaction. In the snow on my car and the red lights.
I can finally see Jesus in this winter place.
There may still be six more weeks until Spring, but I can finally believe that there is a reason for my Hope. Winter will end. Life will rise again. Hope does not disappoint. (Rom 5:5)
I am learning to thrive.
I cannot put into words the joy that is bubbling inside my heart. Because I know I am where I am for a reason. I know I am sitting here in the coffee shop typing blogs and writing a book and listening to music and reading letters for a reason. I know that I am here in Lancaster, nannying, loving, learning, living the mundane for a reason.  I know that God is for me and is making a way for me. I know Him.
I can hear Him whispering to me, "Holy and Dearly loved." Voicing my identity to me over and over again. I know.
And within that, I am learning to thrive, because it is from Jesus that my identity arises. It is the fact that my life is hidden deep within Jesus that I can thrive in the death of this winter.
I wait expectantly for that first flower to shoot up from the ground underneath the tree in my front yard. That first purple flower that arises every year. I wait in anticipation to bury my toes in the thawed earth and soft green grass. I wait because blessed are those who wait for Him. A smile is on my face as I watch the cars drive by and lights revert from red to green. The joy is here because Jesus is. I can see Him.
The winter is no longer killing me, the winter is making me come alive. 

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.