Tears to Glory

It's hard to believe that two years ago today, I was experiencing one of the deepest heartaches that I have known thus far in my life. Two years ago I wrote in my blog "Out of Egypt" a post called "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." I remember the mood, the setting, and the context of that post. It was my first Christmas in Egypt, and for the first time I was spending it away from my family and home. I was staying with people who were kind to me, but I felt misplaced there and very lonely. One of my greatest fears in choosing to come to Egypt was that my Grandpa Ed, who was sick with pulmonary fibrosis, would take a turn for the worse while I was gone and that I wouldn't be able to say goodbye. I didn't let the fear keep me from coming to Egypt, but that December 2009- when the fear actually became a reality- I wasn't even sure how to handle it. Able to do nothing, I had to wait helplessly on the other side of the ocean while my precious Papa Ed was taking some of his last breaths in a hospital room. My sister took her computer in the room the day before he died, and I was able to talk to him over Skype. I'm confident he heard me, though he could not respond.

When he died, I felt angry. I felt devastated. But most of all, I felt utterly alone. No one in this foreign country could understand what I was going through. I was with a group of people who cared about me, but never knew my Grandpa and the incredible support he'd been to me. Being a person that hates not having closure, I was devastated that I could not physically be there to hug Grandpa goodbye on this side of life.

I remember curling up in my bed at night just quietly crying myself to sleep, crying out to the only One who could understand what I was feeling. It was in this context that I wrote my blog post, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." In my state of grief, I had heard the familiar carol again, and the words had shone with a hope I'd never seen in them before.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

The song came alive with hope as I cried out to the Only One who could disperse the clouds of night and death's dark shadows. He promised to come to me, and in my heart I was longing more than ever for His rescue.

Now, two years later, I write again with the same yearning in my heart for Emmanuel. I long for Him to come- to redeem and to restore, just like God's people longed for Him to come so many years before His birth.

And now, as I write, my heart is grieving loss again; not death this time, but the loss of a friendship. It's a terrible heartache, when a season of friendship is ended. It's a horrible and wretched thing to say goodbye to someone who is so dear to you, even under good circumstances... The hurt is not unlike the heartache I experienced with the loss of my Grandpa. We are created in the image of God as relational beings. Relationships yield great power in our lives. When a friendship is ended, it really does leave a void, an empty space.

God has blessed me with this friendship for the last 2 years of my life. Now He seems to be taking it away- taking us different and separate ways. It will leave and already has left a void in my heart. Now all I can do is choose to continue to trust Him, no matter how I feel about it. His ways are better than mine. He knows what's best for me better than I do. I have to choose to believe that He will fill that emptiness with His own fullness.

Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart.

And all is darkened in the vale of tears;

Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,

Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.

Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay

From His own fulness all He takes away.

I was terrified that my Grandpa would die while I was in Egypt. I didn't think I'd be able to handle it. He did. And God's grace was sufficient. I know, even when my heart aches now, that His grace is sufficient. And I can see so clearly that this is all part of His answers to my prayers. I've been asking Him to accomplish His purposes in me. He is. He's removing all the obstacles, making the rough places smooth, making the mountains and hills low, preparing the way for Him to move. I truly believe in all of this, that God is making a way- preparing me for something even when I cannot see it. I believe He is working/guiding/directing. I will follow Him, and I will wait. God, may you glorify yourself in my suffering. Expand your Kingdom. Please Jesus, turn my tears into your glory.

Waiting

So God's been teaching me lately about waiting on Him. Sometimes there are things in our lives that seem so big and impossible to our feeble, human minds. I've been reminded recently, however, that our God is One who delights in accomplishing the impossible. He is perfectly able to accomplish more than I could ever ask or imagine. The best that I could imagine for my life looks trivial and ridiculous next to God's best for me. And as my perfect Heavenly Father, He cannot wait to give me His best. He has challenged me recently that His best is so worth the wait.

All of these things were confirmed again to me on Monday when I went to our ladies' Bible study. We've been going through the book of Exodus, and as the Israelites have wandered along on their journey, I feel myself wandering with them. I can identify with their constant struggle to trust in God's provision for them, despite the many miraculous times He'd brought them through before. Well this week we talked about the time when Moses journeyed up Mt. Sinai to meet with God. The people thought Moses would be gone for a day or so... but after 40 days, he was still not back at the camp. The people waited for 40 days without a leader, and they fretted. They grew anxious. They wanted something tangible to hold on to, some kind of security or comfort. Their lack of trust in God led them to make for themselves and idol to worship alongside the One True God. God wouldn't stand for it. He alone is God. They were punished severely for their idolatry.

In this season of my life, I am facing a lot of new choices. I'm looking ahead to the future and longing for guidance and provision. Waiting is hard work. However, God has challenged me through this story and other things, that I should not be willing to settle. I should not give in to the desire to "help God out" or "move things along" the way I think they should happen. Like Moses, I want to cry out to God and say "If you do not go with us, we will not move up from here." I will not move until you move. I will not take matters into my own hands, even when it seems like it will never happen. I will trust you Jesus. You will answer.

So I am waiting for His clear promptings. I'm waiting for His answers for my life. I do not want to hold on to my own ideas of what is right. I'm waiting for His. The Israelites had to wait for 40 days, and they turned back to their own manmade comfort and securities. I was prompted to declare for myself my own 40 days of waiting. For these 40 days I am daily declaring to Jesus that I trust Him and I'm willing to actively wait on His leading in my life. I tell him each day that His plans are greater than mine, and that I will not move up from here unless He goes with me. I'm not sure what to expect, but I rejoice- knowing that He is hearing my prayers and they are already accomplished in His name. I am excited to see what He brings around the corner.

Take My Yoke

So it's been tough to abide by my own limitations lately. I was getting restless the other day- frustrated that this one-armedness is slowing me down from my normal pace of life. In trying to go about life as normal, I actually hurt myself more. I tried sleeping without the sling, and in doing so, pulled either a muscle or tendon in my upper arm/shoulder area. Later that day, I was on my way to meet my roommate and her mom who is visiting, and I stumbled over a tree branch. When my shoulders tensed up in preparation for a possible fall, the already strained muscle tore and sent a shooting pain through the arm. Because it's already in a sling, I don't feel it much now. But I realize that my restlessness is causing me to see my arm as a burden that is holding me back. Well let me show you the devotion God sent my way this morning:

"In order to receive any benefit from our captivity, we must accept the situation and be determined to make the best of it. Worrying over what we have lost or what has been taken from us will not make things better but will only prevent us from improving what remains. We will only serve to make the rope around us tighter if we rebel against it.

In the same way, an excitable horse that will not calmly submit to its bridle only strangles itself. And a high-spirited animal that is restless in its yoke only bruises its own shoulders."

Wow, a little close to home. I am reminded not to see this immobile arm as a cumbersome burden to carry, but God's gentle yoke to lift. It is to steer me, to guide me, and to push me into a loving dependence on Him. The devotion goes on to say:

"No calamity will ever bring only evil to us, if we will immediately take it to God in fervent prayer. Even as we take shelter beneath a tree during a downpour of rain, we may unexpectedly find fruit on its branches."

-Streams in the Desert

Lord, somehow use this immobile arm for your glory. Refine me, shape me, and use it. Yours be the Kingdom, and the Power and the Glory forever! Amen.

One-Armed Bandit

I'm typing this with one hand now. It's not as easy as one might imagine. Takes at least twice as long. In fact, typing isn't the only challenge for me in recent days. My roommate calls me the "One-armed Bandit." Every day is a new challenge- a new opportunity to practice my problem solving skills. Today's challenge: shave your right armpit with your right hand. Done. :) It's amazing how one day can change the way you live life.

These challenges have risen up due to an accident I had this past Saturday at a youth event with which I was helping- a silly, quite needless accident really. I had other plans that day. I was going to help a friend prepare for a costume party she was having at her house later, but they didn't have enough leaders going on the outing. My friend and I decided we could go along in the morning and leave early. It was a broomball game- played like ice hockey only with brooms and tennis shoes. It all happened quite fast- a very uncomplicated accident really. I ran out onto the ice in my brand new running shoes, and I played for about 30 seconds before I got a little too ambitious. My feet slipped from underneath me and I fell with all my weight on my left elbow- snapping it.

My friend drove me to the hospital and our day's plans began dissolving as we spent the day getting an x-ray and consulting a doctor. The x-ray showed a fracture- a clean break from the outside of the elbow to the ball of the joint. I started preparing myself for 6 weeks in a cast or sling when the doctor announced that it required surgery. I'm not gonna lie. It threw me for a loop. A cast I could imagine, but a surgery? In an Egyptian hospital, away from all my family, really? He explained that if we just put it in a cast it would heal unevenly and cause rubbing and scraping in the joints later in life. A plate/pin would be required to hold it in place.

We scheduled the surgery for 11pm and went back to prepare for a thrown-together party and to sort out my insurance. I couldn't eat or drink anything because of the upcoming procedure, and I was starting to get nervous.

My boss drove me to the hospital at 11pm, and they told me they'd moved the surgery to 9am the next morning due to emergency operation patients that had come. I would have to stay in the hospital overnight. My boss couldn't stay with me, but she promised she'd send someone to be with me through the surgery in the morning.. As she left that night and I found myself alone in an empty, bleak hospital room in a foreign country with nurses and staff who didn't speak my language, I finally cried out my nervous, locked-away emotions from the day and found peace again in knowing His presence. A friend texted me that night with this verse.

Joshua 1:9~ "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

I knew this was the Lord beginning to answer my prayer that I've been praying now on a daily basis: to identify with Jesus in His suffering, so that I might become more like Him. And I had a choice now whether or not I would trust Him now in the middle of that suffering. He promised me that night that He would go with me- even into the operating room.

He did go with me. I went to sleep in His presence, and I woke up in His presence. And He has allowed me to see good in the situation. Re-learning to live life with just one good arm hasn't been easy, but I can honestly say it is good for me to practice "suffering" in His name. My prayer in the hospital that night before surgery was that God will somehow use this one-armed bandit to glorify His name and to magnify it in my day-to-day life.

Seek First

Matthew 6:33~ But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."

What does this verse really mean? What kind of implications does it have for my life? Wow, I'll tell you the truth. It's been one that has been plaguing my mind continually for the past few months. What does it mean to seek first His kingdom?

I think I used to have a better grasp on this concept when I was younger than I do even now. As a young teenager, I was on fire for Jesus. He was my life. It really began when I was about fifteen years old, and God spoke to me at a summer camp. The talk that night was about being "Kingdom Laborers." The speaker (I can't remember his name) talked about the early apostles- Peter, John, Paul, etc. They were men who stopped at nothing to advance the cause of the Gospel message. They didn't let circumstances dictate the course of their lives. They lived by the Truth. When they were beaten for their faith, they rejoiced for being counted worthy of suffering in His name. When they were scorned, rejected, and warned not to preach in this name, they prayed that the God of Heaven would increase their boldness. When they were thrown into prison, they sang songs to God in the midnight shadows. They saw their own chains and iron bars not as a hindrance, but as opportunities to show His glory! Instead of losing hope and crying in the corner, they started a ministry in their own jail cell and people came to Christ! I mean, who does that?! People who are "sold-out" and "recklessly abandoned" to Jesus.

I remember that night the stories of the early apostles kindled a flame in me- a flame that was a catalyst for movement in my heart. I wanted to do something for God. I wanted my small gifts and person to be a vessel for a greater cause. I wanted to be a Kingdom Builder. I remember it like it was yesterday. The big white tabernacle building and cool evening air; the tugging at my heart that caused me to stand up in front of a room full of people, make the long trip to the front, and kneel down on the cold cement floor. Funny, though, how I don't remember the people so much. I vaguely remember someone touching my shoulder and asking if I needed prayer. I said no. It was just me and God in that room. I said, "God use me. Take me anywhere. I'll do anything at any cost." And I felt Him assuring me that He would.

It's funny though, as you grow older how your heart sometimes grows more distant to that first call, that first love. I remember through high school, when I had a bad day I couldn't wait to get home, run up to my room, open my Bible, and lay it all out before the Lord until I felt His presence and Truth wash over me. I remember lying in bed at night CRYING out of frustration that I couldn't just leave and go overseas to share the gospel right then and there with people who were dying without the knowledge of Jesus. I wondered why I should go to college first.

What happened? In those days, "Seek first His kingdom" was a simple truth, an easy one! So how did I get here? Lately I've found this verse difficult! I find my mind more occupied with my own dreams and desires that seem so far off. I'll be honest. One of the things that constantly fills my thoughts is wondering how God is going to provide a husband for me who shares the same heart for working among the unreached. I'm at the stage of my life when the next step is the real one. I've wanted to be a Christian "worker" overseas since I was 10 years old. But there has always been a step between the present and the end goal of long-term work. When I was a teenager, I had to finish High School. When I was in Bible college, the next step was my internship. When I graduated college, the next thing was to pay off my loan. And now I'm finally nearing the end of this step, and the next step is to go. I'm both incredibly excited and terrified at the same time. I want to go, but I don't want to go alone. Yet I'm realizing more and more that it's not about what I want or think I need. I told Jesus that I would serve Him at any cost. That means giving Him everything I am, including my hopes and dreams.

Yep, I sometimes worry about this. But the more I reflect on this verse, I am encouraged. This is my own paraphrase of Matthew 6:33. This is how I read it:

"Jenna, you have permission to be completely and fully absorbed in my Kingdom purposes, and the day to day worries/needs of life will be handled by God Himself."

I do not know where God will take me. I do not know how He will choose to provide for me. I just know that He will. He is good. He is able. He is bigger than any fear I may have. He is my constant. He is my rock. He is my companion forever. And He is enough.

Like Jesus

I'm creating this blog mostly as a documentation of a new journey I've begun. Recently, I've found myself praying, "God, make me more like your Son." I've been a Christian since I was just a small girl, but lately I'm wondering- Do I even begin to know what it means to follow Jesus? Does it simply mean going to church, hanging out with fellow believers, reading the Word and praying? Sharing the Good News on occasion I'm sure must be a part of it all. Trying to be the best person I can be has to be at the top of the list. But is that all there is?

When I look at the Son of God that I read about in the Bible, I find myself looking into a face that is wearied with tears and heaviness. I see a man of sorrows, who is familiar with all kinds of grief and suffering. I see a man who lives among the destitute, who walks his road alone, and who mingles and interacts with the worst of all sinners on the streets. I see someone who has been slandered, misunderstood, and hated. If a stranger were to pass him on the street, he may feel pity and etch the Son of God's face on the tablet of his heart as just another statistic of the world's brokenness. But behind those tear-filled eyes is a joy that surpasses all human understanding and a holiness that has never before been experienced by mankind. As believers, we all say we want such a holiness and strive after such joy, but are we willing to walk where Jesus walked? Are we willing to even see what He saw? I, personally, don't know the answers to these questions! That is why I've begun to pray, "God, show me your glory." Reveal yourself to me as you are.

There has to be more to this journey, than my superficial knowledge of who Jesus really is. I want to truly know Him, but that means counting the cost. Why? Because the more I pray this prayer, the more I start to see that if I'm truly serious about this, I WILL endure suffering. In order to be like HIM, I have to be willing to follow in His footsteps- footsteps that lead to a wretched and terrible cross. And a cross that leads to the glory of God in an empty grave.

So I have started daily praying these words of Paul's in Philippians 3:10, "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead." And He's gently reminding me daily that if I'm certain that I want this deeper identification with Him, I have to be prepared for the tears that come with it. Because I'm getting that God's glory is often more clearly demonstrated through tears.

I do not know what to expect in the coming days. I do not know how my life will change as a result of this prayer. But I am expecting God to move. Otherwise, I would not have started this blog. I know full well, that my God answers prayer- especially when it fully aligns with His will. So I am preparing my heart to be ready for His answers. I do not know what I will have to endure, but I am confident of this: I don't want my life to be normal. I don't want to be ordinary. I want to be like Jesus.

Listen to Todd Agnew: "My Jesus"