9/9/2013 entry

Hello! It’s 2021 and here I am, wiping off the dust from this old blog. I may start writing again in this blog or elsewhere. Stay tuned :) 

When I logged into the blog, I found an entry about being single that was unpublished. Here it is, unedited from nearly 8 years ago: 

Date: 9/9/2013

I am single and hey, I won’t lie - I do wonder about my prospects of dating.

As I wonder about the person God hasn’t placed in my life yet, I think about the people He has placed. You know those people that are literally in my face almost every single day: family members, old friends, acquaintances, classmates, etc. 

With the more prominent people in my life, humbling lessons of gospel love knock at the door of my heart. Who knew this door was so hard to knock down? 

Don't get me wrong - I have my moments of loving when it's really difficult to love.  But it’s getting over that one hurdle of love and then having to go through more and more hurdles; each time it’s a sobering awareness of a cranky heart that wants little to do with the gospel when I feel wronged, hurt, sinned against, etc. [It's true, as my pastor says, we need to forgive and extend grace multiple times a day]

Whittled, shaped and carved in ways that could only occur in human relationships, the exposure to deepening cycles of love is life threatening. In more difficult times, I learn that I absolutely cannot love. I discover my own limits and see wrinkly dark areas that know nothing about gospel love. 

But these are my life changing moments, occurring right now in this awkward season of singlehood. I discover the gospel in deepening ways never known before. It's learning to love like I've never loved before. God confronts me with my inability to love in the most mundane of relationships so that He can change my life. 

I feel God asking me to pay attention to these lessons of love. Single or not, I feel called to love well. 

I momentarily think about that person who isn't in my life, but am unable to ignore the increasing pressure upon my heart that draws me to the gospel. What better invitation exists? For this is what's eternal... 

What are my current love lessons?

It’s learning to love a friend behind her back. When people ask about her when she’s not there - what do I say? What is the impulsive response of my heart? Does it respond in love or gossip? What is the quality of my speech? 

It’s learning to love a friend despite her shortcomings. Do I still love in a selfless way even when she is hard to love? 

And through these people I have life changing moments — Jesus assigned moments to be whittled, shaped, contoured to have the heart that's been redeemed. To have the heart, body and spirit that is set apart renewed sanctified in love to bear witness of Christ love in me. These moments are crescendoing each day.

Unloving moments echoing back to me challenging me to hearken His word, challenging me to see His response when he was mocked and scourged.

journal entry from 4.19.13

It's a paradox. God invites me to die, to go down deeper into the abyss of pain so that I might know Him. In contrast, Satan invites me to come up higher and gives me little frills of temporary fill. But it's fake. It's like that baby chick being pumped alive with food only to be slaughtered in the end.

Go deeper into my pain. Feel the pain in all its glory and in that very place of pain, experience the deepest grace and love. It's asking God to love you in the messiest way. It's allowing the sinner in you unravel itself before God – to be unmasked, unhidden and naked. That encounter must happen over and over again in the deep pit of my being. It's that place where my pain erupts in living color. It's where I encounter the Suffering servant and His cross.

Each time I'm lulled into the world is an inch away from my existing pit of despair. But paradoxically that's where I'm asked to remain. 

Wounds are healed in His wounds. When I’m not honest with myself, I’m covering up my wounds and heartache with temporal mechanisms of comfort. 

It’s a paradox.

My own pain and darkness is the way to God. 

At least a B+

Last semester, I faced the impossible with an abstract math course and experienced crazy vacillations of fear and faith. I expected a C- and contemplated withdrawing late in the term. I felt stupid for not understanding the coursework. To make things worse, it was taught by a genius 24 year old. In all my years of school, I never felt so dumb before! I wanted to withdraw. However, I felt God urging me to carry on and had this crazy vision that if I kept going with Him, I could get at least a B+. This is what I wrote in my journal a week before finals:

December 10, 2012

Sleep or no sleep if you're there, I'm there. 

You are here straining with me. Grace along the way. 

At least a B plus

This entry was written in the passing wind of great hope in God. When I wrote "At least a B plus", I did not feel capable of achieving it. It was an impossible hope that bubbled up in my heart as I wrote it! Even after writing this entry and having hope, I went back to my fearful self-talks and contemplated withdrawing up until the last possible day. Despite my doubts and tug of war, I decided that even if I achieved a "C-", it was worth more to obey and surrender my anxieties to him. 

I completed the course, took the Final exam and waited for the grade. A few days later, Prof emails us and says grades are posted. My earned grade is a B+. I'm reminded of the crazy vision of getting "...at least a B+". God was right! I just needed to trust Him. Still questioned the "at least" part. I got the B+, but wondered if there was more to the "...at least" part. 

Weeks later, I check my transcript and see an A-. The Prof ended up bumping my grade to an A-. The words "at least a B+" made sense. I'm amazed by the accuracy of the hope God placed in my heart. Amused by the way it unfolded because I first got the B+ and then weeks later, it turned into an A-. All I did was trust Him while remaining human in my anxieties. Key: I remained myself and God did not condemn me for feeling all the twisty, negative fears that made me want to give up and give in to cheap substitutes of escape. He provided me with the faith needed to carry through. And he gave me a great vision that unfolded in 2 steps in the span of about a month. It's like, joy and then greater joy unfolding and unfolding...   If I did NOT trust God, I would've gotten a W - that's what was on the other side of the fear coin. 

His heart wasn't that I'd get a B+ or an A-. It was to know that He is God in the midst of great unknowns, fears and hesitations. It's to plunge into the great unknown and say "You are God - I am not and I completely trust You" I still felt enormous amounts of anxiety and stupidity for not knowing the math but God gave me the courage to close all the doors to cheap alternatives. 

Attempting and facing the IMPOSSIBLE is an opportunity to experience the PURE joy of God's providence. It is undeniable manifest presence of God. 

Fear itself was a servant of God to lead me to Himself. When facing the impossible and experiencing twisty inner emotions of fear, God is on the other side wooing me to take steps towards the unknown.

It's funny because I got another A- in another math course, but it was whatever to me! I realized it's worth more to attempt the impossible with God. To experience the pure joy of God is worth everything.

the daily fight

The great temptation: to judge and not forgive

The great command: to love and serve.

Read an article by Justin Holcomb on the Resurgence blog about Rodin's two sculptures, "The Hand of the Devil" and "The Hand of God". It's a picture of spiritual warfare.

I looked up each sculpture and saw more profoundly what the article was talking about. Here are brief snippets from the article and clearer pictures of the sculptures.

Hand of the Devil

 "...Just as the female figure begins to take shape and arise out of the swirling mass, the hand pushes it back into nothingness...The devil loves to try to confuse us and keep us trapped in chaos." 
  Image:"Hand of the devil" by Rodin (image source)

Hand of God

"The second hand, a right hand, is rough, strong, and active-looking. Rodin designed a powerful-looking hand that holds an intertwined man and woman, carrying them upward into life from the chaos of the unformed clay...

Rather than being alone, the figures in the hand of God are together with each other. Instead of being lost, the figures are cradled, suggesting that they have been found. And rather than being driven away into chaos, the figures are being lifted out of chaos. Beneath both hands there is a swirling mass of clay, which symbolizes chaos. The hand of God seems intent on bringing meaning out of randomness, purpose out of chaos."



Image: "The Hand of God" by Rodin (img src)


I'm convinced of battles in the spiritual realm, but even more compelled to thank my God who secures me in these days of trial and tribulation. The Battle has already been won.

weaned child

After an evening of fretfulness and heaviness, the burdensome cloud has cleared.

Safe, sound and quieted I am in His arms..

Freedom. Weightlessness. Undeserved grace.

Thank you Lord. 

The wrestling and not giving into my own carnal counsel was worth it. So many opportunities and half-truths to have clung onto but my God is faithful.

He
... clears the way
... levels my path
... plucks out the lies of the enemy
... casts out my fears
... and graces my feet to walk in His way

Each step ordered by you is grace.

It was the last scene in my dream. It was a brief moment, but striking one.

A man was perched on a huge rock by a lake/ocean with an instrument. He was playing music with his wife next to him. His instrument didn't look like one, but sounded like a violin. The notes were extravagantly joyous and high.

I cognitively knew that they were in Korea. Missionaries I think they were.

But they were just playing music. It wasn't even recognizable worship music - it was the pure sound of a violin at its melodious height of glory.

I don't know why they were in Korea or why they were in that forest area, but this is an image I'll carry as I think of "missionaries" - men and women who are like trees planted by waters, joyously making music in the deepest ends of the earth. Even though there are few who can initially decipher their songs, men and women whose faithful lives are seen, heard and used by God.

Thankful for a God who is faithful - I have a feeling there are greater stories yet to come.