Crazy Lady-ness

On Tuesday mornings some of us from Doxa get together at our little building (located at 1082 Kirkland Avenue Renton, WA 98059 -- Sunday morning at 10 am is the best time to stop by) to pray for the area, each other, and needs of the church. This week, God was gracious to reveal through some wonderful folks that I’ve avoided personal prayer for quite some time which painfully makes me aware of the heavy conviction for the fact that I’m convinced that Jesus is not enough for me; can’t help but be outraged by my stupidity. Pastor Brian preached a message on Sunday that helped me (rather emotionally) understand my blindness. Since then, I’ve still chosen foolishness. Every part of my flesh runs from Christ even when I see his goodness; it is the Holy Spirit who has strengthened me to be here at all. By my own self I choose all things but those that are good; I prefer darkness to the beauty of God’s glory.

I’ve found that I’ve been alittle out of it lately. I don’t know what is wrong with my brain. I even went on a run this morning and thought about nothing; when I run I usually pray and think deep thoughts. Instead of those good things my mind was blank and couldn’t wonder about anything other than the continued motion of putting one foot in front of the other. These last few weeks have been different, something is off. I had hoped I could contribute my weirdo-ness to lady time but it has ended and I’m still going crazy.

I’ve tried to figure things out for myself. As previously mentioned, I’ve not even committed the thoughts and attitudes of my heart to prayer. And there is something dangerous about this kind of solitude. Why do I fall so quickly into ridiculousness? Here I am, a part of an incredible people called Doxa Community Church and I still let my pride conquer my heart. After two years of much growth I have seemed to regress into selfishness, not caring to allow others to help me figure things out. My embarrassment of weakness influences my fear of vulnerability, allowing me to sprint from the growth I am privileged to endure. I’m a fool, a gosh darn fool. I’ve spent many moons trying to figure myself out. Can’t do it alone because let me be the first to proclaim that my life is the messiest. Oh, how I wish I could do it alone. That selfish heart is the one that has denied my community of being used by God to help me through trial. I can’t say that I want to display my sin across the universe but how beautiful it is when I share my heart with those whom Jesus has given me to live life with.  

Sleeeep Vanessa! (name that movie)

Good golly I’m exhausted! I even stayed in bed until 9:30 this morning but can’t shake the drowsiness. My crazy body hasn’t seemed to sleep so well lately. So bring on the shots of coffee. Actually, don’t; I hate coffee. Instead I will sip on my tall Salted Caramel Mocha (which doesn’t have too heavy of a coffee taste) to feel fall’s coziness and will fight to keep reading. I usually love reading but today I crave to allow my eyes to be lazy. I’d rather be in my bed, curled up in a blanket and watching a movie. But when I take the emotion out and consider the bigger picture I don’t suppose I’d like to waste my day completely. Only a little bit...

Sometimes fighting through things such as this seems unbearable. Sometimes I wish God would give me other struggles to work through. Sometimes I’m tired of dealing with the same things over and over again, of having to be reminded of the difficulty these things are going to be. Most of the time, I wish I didn’t have to struggle at all. I wish life could be easy. I find myself envying people who don’t realize their depravity of life without reliance on Christ because they don’t understand their need to war against their flesh. Sometimes I want to submit to my desires instead of being obedient to Christ because that’s so much easier. But when it comes down to the realization of eternity, I’m incredibly thankful that Jesus has endured the cross, that he died the death I should have so I am made able to fight the battles of life - without his having granted this strength, denying sin at all would be impossible. While today I don’t want to fight, I anticipate the tomorrow when I’m thankful for God’s beautiful gift of grace in arming me for the battle. Until that anticipation comes I’ll fight through today’s particular weakness. If anything, I’ll pray for the ability to do so.

Weakling

I feel like the absence of the sunshine has influenced my excessive sleepiness. I’ve hated my early morning alarm clock; waking up has been literally painful. I don’t like to admit it but I’ve taken a long nap… three days in a row! Today I fell asleep watching Titanic and felt rather guilty for napping while Morgan finished the dishes. In the semi-unconsciousness of my nap I could hear those plates bangin’ against the sink. She’s got three cute kiddos and pushes through the exhaustion that comes from the inability to sleep because of a ten-month old in order to serve her family so beautifully. But here I am, a lazy mother of zero, sleeping on the couch while she does the homemaking. Cor, you fool! I want to make my singlehoodedness worthwhile as I’m advantaged with much more time and energy. Oh, little heart of mine, don’t justify our sluggishness because of the lack of energy from the sun but fight to be servant-hearted in your attempt to glorify God in the practical workings of young life! Also, I want to be helpful to Mor. She’s the bee’s knees!!

Ceramics

Starbucks. Sunshine. Reading. Urine? I have to pee but am much too lazy to venture the short distance toward the ladies’ room as I’ve entered my second hour of sitting. I came to sit and read the first chapter of Richard Sibbes’ The Bruised Reed to prepare for Saturday’s first meeting for this particular book and read it, I did. I’m excited to discuss it on Saturday and go on to pursue the next chapter to ready my brains for the following week. I very much so love reading and even more so do I enjoy growing and learning with people who love to do so also. Through enduring the first chapter, I now understand what the bruised reed, which is descriptively used in Isaiah 42:1-3, means in it’s relation to Christ and it’s holding of that meaning and understanding with the rest of the workings of my life.

The thoughts I’ve battled through because of that thing that is my life have been throwing me all out of craziness lately. My housemates and I have had many deep discussions on singleness (the place that I am currently dwelling) and the effects that my thoughts have had on my heart through this season. I’ve reacted to friends’ relationship statuses quite raunchily, if you will, loving said singleness and creating quite an idol out of it. The pain that has come from my sin and the sin of others has such an effect on the way I understand reality. For example, the depth of marriage gives me the willies. I am quick to be overwhelmed when dealing with my own self and throw another human into the intimacies of my life and I don’t know that I can handle it. I am slow to allow Christ to outweigh those inadequacies even though I have been granted the gift of knowing Christ to have a stronger, better effect on my heart.

The conversations I’ve had with my roommates have been that which God has used to bruise me, to remind me of the fact that I am merely a reed and am not a strong, self-sufficient oak tree. I am utterly dependant on Christ and the grace he’s given me. I am incredibly blessed with friends who care for me deeply, reminding me that Jesus is better than all things and that there is hope for the relationships that I’ve not yet experienced. I’ve only dated one fella and it was for a very short time; I don’t have the experience of knowing the companionship of marriage or that even of a blooming courtship. Because I am not a wife, I know not the ways I’ll respect my husband, consider him worthy of my submission, or desire the partnership with him. I’ll not ever feel those things until I enter the scary door of marriage. To some extent I’ll fear the union until who knows when but God has put me in a place where He’ll remind me of His goodness. Sometimes I think of myself as that big, established oak tree without realizing He’s there. But I am a reed that must be bruised, a weak little lady who must be reminded of his graciousness. I am glad to be bruised in the ways that He knows to be necessary. He is the Potter, I am merely the clay.

Yard Work

I’ve been trying to produce a decent blog post lately but I haven’t been able to put the thoughts I’ve been struggling through together so well. As I was weeding (more like sticker-bushing because the weeds turned into prickly vines after a few moments of plucking in the side yard) this morning all by my lonesome I started realizing the whirlwind of madness my brains have been processing. The detriment of secluding myself to the inner workings of my thought process is that I’m quick to flee from truth and consider my realizations to be most realistic in the scheme of the universe than is gospel and how it relates to each situation I encompass. I decide my own perspectives to be factual instead of running to Jesus to determine what's real. In order to maintain a healthy grasp of reality I need to be involved in community and God has been gracious to provide Doxa Community Church where my heart is influenced by the truth revealed in scripture so that life can be consistent in our united effort to glorify God.