Red Flag.

If you are from a beach town, you will understand my use of red flag. It's a warning of unsafe conditions.

Don't swim. Don't sail. Don't stand too close to the edge. 

Sometime the red flags flaps violently in the wind. Cracking and snapping, echoed by sound of the waves smashing the rocks and sand. The pier is coated in a sheen of lake water, small puddles form only to be desturbed and displaced by the next wave that crashes in. 

These are the obvious red flag days. 

Then there are days when the flag lays docile against its pole. Lack lusterly flutters in a brief breeze. The waves are calmly, ritualistically lapping at the beach. The pier is dry and crowded. The crowds thinking the flag was forgotten and should be ignored. These red flags give the warning of a hidden danger. Riptides. 

The snaking current that pulls you out and under. 

Tonight was an obvious red flag day.

The waves soaked Erika and I to the bone as we cautiously navigated the pier in a desperate attempt to get better pictures of the sunset happening beyond the chaos around us. 

Tonight was an obvious red flag day, not only on the beach, but in my life. 

The kind where everyone around you knows. The red rimed eyes give a subtle warning, but the waves of tears crashing against the table of a coffee house, the gasps for air, and sobs that rack my body, really drive the point home. 

God gave me a red flag day that was echoed in his creation. And yet. On that pier. I wasn't alone. I was standing with twenty other people who were there for the same reasons I was. 

We are willing to stand though something so miserable because something beautiful will follow. 

I will move past this red flag stage of my life, because God promised me a life of sunsets. That's what I am focusing on tonight. 

An Open Letter.

Oh my sweet boy, how I love you already.  I cannot wait to see you, to meet you, to learn who you are.  My deepest hope is that you are happy in your life, from the time I cradle you in my arms till the time you are cradled in God's.

I pray you will be a silly baby, full of giggles and smiles.

I pray you will be a tumbling toddler, so you learn to stand up on your own.

I pray you will be a loving brother, that you will protect your sibling(s) from the monsters in their lives (under the bed or otherwise).

I pray you will be a dedicated learner, who goes beyond high school and college, someone how craves knowledge and wisdom, always.

I pray you will be a strong man, not only in body but also in mind.

I pray you will be a respectful courter, that you will honor all women and will be wise with the one you chose to call yours.

I pray you will be a diligent provider, one who loves his wife and children, giving of himself for their happiness.

I pray you will have the courage to admit defeat, to seek help when you can no longer stand on your own.

I pray you will be a commanding leader, at home, at work, and in the church.

I pray you will be a humble son of God, that you will listen and lead as He shows you.

I pray you will live a full life, a long life, packed with loved ones' laughter, precious moments, sunsets, and shooting stars.

Don't forget where you came from, but make your own way in life, according to what God has planned for you.  Never forget how much your mother loves you, even now.

Promises.

This is the time of year for promises.  Promises to eat right, work out more, be more organized, or to enjoy life more.  Most promises made will be broken within the next month or so.

I, personally, don't make resolutions at New Years.  I am notorious for breaking promises to myself and change is not my strong suit.  Promises, in general, seem unreliable to me.

There are many broken promises in my life and though I don't have trust issues, I do have a pessimistic view on promises.  That way, when one is kept, I am surprised and pleased, and if one is broken, I don't get upset.

Trust in other's promises is something that I have struggled hard with in the last three months. Believing that I was wanted back home, that I was loved by someone who felt so distant, that people were going to help me, that people would pull through. All that was difficult and emotional for me. I spent nights crying out to God, trying to make him hear how much I was hurting, how much I wanted these promises to be true.  Trying to make Him, and myself, understand exactly how much I needed those promises to be kept, but at the same time, bracing myself for them to be broken.

I forgot God made promises to me too.  That he promises to always want me, to love me, to provide, and to never leave me.  Hopelessness overwhelmed me last night.  I couldn't do it on my own, and those who I ran to for comfort didn't do what I wanted them to.

I wanted them to fix it.  To give me what I needed right then and there.  Or I wanted them to hold me, comfort me, just tell me it was going to be okay.  Some weren't around to hold me, and words on a phone screen do not hold the same level of comfort that arms do. Those who were close, didn't give me the comfort I wanted.  Their words weren't peace giving, and I didn't know what to do.

So I picked up the only words I knew of that might help.  My bible.  I sat it in my lap and let it open where ever it wanted. Job 37 is where it fell too.  In those words God showed me his power.  That he is the one who tells the thunder when to rumble and the lightning where to strike.  That he alone is the one who controls this.

If he is powerful enough to control the storm and where it falls and when.  Then he is also powerful enough to control the storm in my life.  He knows that rain is falling, and that I will need shelter, and he let me fumble around in the dark trying to protect myself.  He heard my cries and waited there, my ever constant shelter, for me to find him.   He saw me run to others, those who could not do for me what he could, and he saw me give up.  Sitting in the rain accepting my fate to be struck by lightning.  Then he called, very gently, very softly, to me.  Asking me to come back to him.

Last night I found him, my shelter from my storm.  One that has been raging for months.  And I woke this morning to find the storm had passed.



Over the last three months, I have been searching for an internship in Michigan in order to complete my degree.  I have been met with a lot of dead ends and unanswered phone calls. I was a week away from my dead line and I still didn't have anything. Last night I broke down, from the weight of not knowing.  I felt unwanted and even considered the fact that I had made a mistake coming back home.  After reading God's Word and feeling peace about how powerful he is, and that he did promise me that he will provide, I was calm enough to finally get some sleep.  I didn't know what I was going to do, but I trusted Him enough to know that I would know what to do when the time came.

This morning, I was woken by my phone ringing.

I now have an internship and I start next week.  EVERYTHING was taken care of and I no longer have any fear.  God only wanted me to come to him, and when I did, he showed me what he can do.  He calmed my storm, and for those of you who feel as if you are also stuck in a storm, he can calm yours as well.  Just run to him.

Job 37:5
"God's voice thunders in marvelous ways;
he does great things beyond our understanding." 

"Try Again."

This is a post I have needed to write for a long time, but haven't been able to find the means to convey it.  Tonight I found my anecdote.

Since I have been back home, I have taken over responsibility for my dog, Tessa, again.  Feeding her, bathing her, and letting her outside.  Tonight, after a particularly emotional evening, I let my dog out like usual and was sitting outside in the lovely 50 degree Michigan weather, praying.  Hoping that God could give me an answer in Morse coded cricket chirps.  No such luck, but he did give me a slight epiphany.

 The chain that I attach to Tessa's collar when she is out, sometimes gets stuck on the staircase on her way back inside, not allowing her to climb up.  Now being the smart dog that she is, she know the command "try again" and when I give it, she goes back down and tries again.  On the second time, the chain is readjusted and she runs right inside.  She knows this.  This is how it works.  But sometimes she is too confident, turning so quickly that she doesn't allow the chain to move, and on her second try, she is choked and pulled back down.  I always chuckle at her and repeat "try again" and the next time she goes slower and makes it up.  Yet sometimes, showing her true puppy nature, she still wants to run, and is pulled down a third time.  That is when she yelps, she makes a small pathetic sound and stands at the bottom of the stairs, not willing to try again.  She is waiting for me.  Waiting for me to come move her chain for her, so she can run up those steps with no fear, because it always works when I help her.

I am like Tessa, life is my chain, struggle is my staircase, and God is my master.  I can go through my life fine on my own most of the time.  There are some days where I can run from one end of the yard to the garage and never have to stop.  It's almost as if I fly over the stairs without batting an eyelash, but other days, I stumble on that first step.  I get caught and God has to tell me to "try again," I turn around and with all determination I run up those stairs again.  This time I make it.

Next time I won't.  

Next time I will try again, and stumble once more.  God will chuckle at my enthusiasm and tell me to try again.  Then I will slow down, carefully letting the chain move and I will make it up.

But then there are nights where I don't make it up the second time.  That when I stumble again, I won't listen to my master's command of "try again."  Instead I will sit at the bottom of my staircase and I will whimper.  I will cry out until my God comes and helps me move my chain, so that I can run without fear.

This is how my life is, and I am incredibly humbled to realize that I am just as helpless as my twenty pound mongrel.  That I need help just to get inside.  That I can't do it alone every time.  That as much of an independent woman that I think I am, I still need God to give me the command and to step in when I can't climb my struggle alone.

So tonight, God didn't send me coded messages though the crickets night songs.  Tonight God showed me that regardless of what I am going through, I need to try again, and when I feel like I can't anymore, He will be there to help me out.

Faith.

To say that my faith has been tested over the last year, would be an understatement.  Over the course of the last four quarters, I have begun a less-then-convenient relationship with an amazing man, I started school four hundred miles away from my home, I have dealt with months of sexual harassment, and medical repercussions from said harassment.  I've lost and gained friends, had three months of minimal contact with previously-mentioned boyfriend, spent hours hiding tears from my roommate(s), and even more time hiding from God.

A little while ago, during a talk with two of my best friends, I began to complain about my life.  I admitted I didn't know what I was doing.  I didn't understand why my life was the way it was.  My friend, Erika, asked me, "when was the last time you prayed?"  (She is notorious for asking these hard questions, and I love her for it).  Do you know what my answer was?  "I don't know." I couldn't tell her.  Looking back, it was probably the morning prior, while I was getting ready for my day.  That is usually when I lift my friends up in prayer, I pray for my boyfriend, my family, and anyone else I can think of at five in the morning.  But that is just me going though the motions of prayer.  It doesn't go much deeper than "please help so-and-so with whatever they are struggling with."

I don't pray for myself.  I don't pray for those I don't like.  I don't pray for those who don't ask for prayer.  Honestly, most days, I forget to pray all together.

Erika asked me when was the last time I prayed for myself.  I told her I hadn't in a really long time.   Partially because I always feel selfish, and partially because I'm stubborn.  Not only do I not ask for help, but sometimes I refuse to admit that I even need it!

When I get frustrated with my life and where I am, I don't run to God. I get angry. I'm not angry with God, but I get angry at everyone else.  I lash out at my boyfriend, ignore my friends, and complain for hours to my mother.  Talking to God is never an option.  I'm hiding from Him.

As much as I don't want to admit it, God is not a huge part of my life right now.  Despite what I write on my blog, I'm not as strong of a Christian as I should be. I don't got to church regularly, prayer is sporadic, bible reading is almost nonexistent, and if I'm being honest, I'm less then stellar when it comes to the way I live my life day to day.  Even on the days when my boyfriend, friends, or mother remind me to pray, because 'God has a plan' I just sit and wallow.  I want to miserable, I want to be angry and hate my situation, and hate my circumstances.

I want to lose faith, because holding on to it doesn't feel worth it.

If I don't pray, I don't have to feel bad about cussing at that pan in lab that just won't come clean.
If I don't have faith, I don't have to feel guilty about the mean things I say about my classmates.
If I'm not a Christian, I don't have to obey the rules.

But if I'm not a follower of Christ, I will loose my entire identity.  God is the reason I'm the person I am right now, not only that, but He is the reason I'm where I am today.  Because of God, I have lived a good life.  Not only has he blessed me with a roof over my head and food on the table, for the last nineteen years, but he was also blessed me beyond imagining.  He has given me a wonderful family, amazing friends, a supportive community, and most of all a conscience. 

I can't go without praying for too long without knowing that something is wrong.  I can't go against His laws without feeling guilty.  I can't stop being a Christian.  For me that is impossible.  I am the person I am today because of the morals and values He has instilled in me.  It's more than just my upbringing from my parents, it runs deeper than that. 

Does that mean that after posting this blog post I am suddenly cured of all my evil ways?  NO!  But now I recognize that they are there.  Having faith right now isn't easy, it's not something that comes naturally to me and I have to work for it.   There are some influences in my life that make having faith harder. They keep me in my sinful ways.  That is God testing me.  And today, I am failing.  Today I have fallen very low; very far away from God's high standards for me.  And do you know what? That's okay.  I can't be perfect all the time, and failing a test just means that I have to study harder.

Today I am failing, but tomorrow will be different, and the next day will be different, as well.  Because I have faith that despite what I go through, God will still be there at the end. All I have to do is keep that faith, as hard as it is, and push through this batch of tests that He is putting me through.  And I know I will be fine.



Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. - James 1:2-3

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God us the Strength of my heart and my portion forever. - Psalm 73:26

Let your hope make you glad.  Be patient in time of trouble, and never stop praying. - Romans 12:12