#70for70Project: The Next Word and Commitment

The word I read a couple days before my trip was Psalm 119:49-50 .

Remember your promise to me; it is my only hope. Your promise revives me; it comforts me in all my troubles.

The word was a reminder of God’s promise to me, to all of us. I asked for God to take any burdens I was feeling , and surrendered it to his yoke. I instantly felt relief from any stress I had been feeling that morning as I drove to work. Then as I was signing praise and worship to his greatness, I heard God ask me for my next commitment as I am continuing on for the next 70 days of the 70 for 70 Project. As I finish the last two weeks of my maiden voyage I am to prepare myself for 70 days of Praise. I will press further still into the Lord. Asking how each day I can best show my praise to the Lord for all he has done. I am to show with actions.

Praise is more than words or songs, it is also in what you do. I am going to spend the last 14 days of my first commitment fasting in order to prepare for this next step. I am going to do a partial fast, breaking from all added sugars, processed foods, dairy, white flour foods, chemicals, and preservatives. I will eat fruits, vegetables, whole grains such as brown rice or quinoa, nuts and seeds, legumes, healthy oils and fats, a variety of spices, and only drink water. Instead of looking at this as depriving myself of things I enjoy. Or having an attitude that I am punishing myself, which is how I sometimes feel on restrictive diets.

I am going to view this as a sacrifice for my Lord. If Jesus could sacrifice his life for my sins, then surely I can sacrifice sugar and sweets for preparation of 70 days of praise. Especially, eating my favorite foods of pizza and ice  cream. I will also continue pushing further into my exercise commitment, which I will openly admit has not been as successful as I would have hoped.

A friend of mine once said that she uses yoga as a tool to build a better body. She teaches a christian yoga class in colorado. She described it as allowing God’s presence to embrace you through each stretch and pose. I am going to give this a whirl. I have found enjoyment in a good yoga class in the past, but did not always get into the whole yogi thing. Of course during my fast I will be doing a daily bible study. I will try to update you as I move along through it.

I feel like God is going to use this as a way to show me actions I can take over my 70 days of Praise. If I am building a temple for God, and the first 70 days I was clearing the foundation. I believe these next 70 days will be about pouring out the cement for the base of the temple. I want to build a strong temple on the rock and not on sand. I am planning to start my 14 day fast today June 5th and ending on the 70th day of June 18th. The funny thing about this is it was on December 18th of 2016 when God first asked me to commit to the 70 for 70 Project. It was 70 days before when God had asked me to wait for him to reveal a plan for me. I know his timing in all these small commitments are lining up perfectly. It makes me excited to start.

How Deserving Are You?

Over the years I have enjoyed reading. During my early twenties I started reading a lot of different types of non-fiction. I have always loved a good story, but as I was becoming an adult true life stories to over my fascination. I was in a time of my life when I was trying to discover the definition of self. I remember one particular book asked the question if you rated your life from one to a hundred ‘How deserving are you?’. What shocked me was my honest answer was not one hundred percent, no I would have loved to say in all certainty that I believed in myself. Instead I started with an answer of 85%, but then a small voice filled my head and said ‘no its lower’. Was it 75%? The voice didn’t agree, instead I believed that I was only 65% deserving of my life. At first I didn’t understand how I could believe such a thing about myself. I knew that self-confidence was important. It wasn’t like I completely hated myself. Although I don’t think a percent who doubts their own worth has true love for themselves. Instead I questioned my worth not because I didn’t have people who loved me and supported me. I like so many people often do, I could not trust that this frail small person traveling along her way could ever find favor in life. I lived in a word where no matter what I did, I would never be good enough.

I had grown up in the church. I was a christian from the young age of five, which is the first time I asked Jesus to come into my heart. I knew even then that no matter where I went in life I would always have him by my side if I only asked. I did not really understand this fully, but I felt like it was something I must do. Not because it was expected, but because it was what I needed. I took many turns in my life. I went out into the world, and even though my faith never fully left me. After all once you ask Christ in, his promise is to stay with you. I did however stop going to church, stopped reading the bible, stopped praying unless I really needed something. I am sure a lot of people pray like that. The pray only comes when something tragic happens and you have nothing left to do but pray. Or maybe you only pray to ask for things like a good job, or new car. Well, that’s what I did for a while. I became wrapped up in my own struggles and world.

Today I was reading Luke 15, the parable of the lost son. To paraphrase the story the son takes his inheritance and goes out into the world and basically blows all of his money. Then he has nothing. For a while he is too afraid to return home, but eventually he does. He thought surely his father would at least give him a job among the servants. To the son’s surprise the father rejoices in his return.

Luke 15:21-24

21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Letʼs have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

In many ways I can relate to how he must have felt. The son still loved his father as he went into the world. He just wanted to make his own way, have a bit of fun. He did things the father would not approve of. It wasn’t until after graduating undergraduate school that I walked away. As I look back at taking my inheritance, it became about trying to decide what I believed. I was no longer certain that I believed in Jesus because it was something I wanted or something my family and friends wanted. It was a time when I had to discover the truth for myself. I was not a bad person even though I was questioning my faith. I look at this time in my life as great growth. I spent all my inheritance in the world and had ups and downs.

Then as I looked around and had nothing left. Like the prodigal son, I turned to my father. I walked into a church that changed my life. The very first sunday God sent me a messenger, to remind me how much he loved me. At the end of the service as we sang one last song, a stranger came up to me and asked to pray for me. As she started praying, the words she spoke poured into my brokenness with love. She shared an image of a little girl wrapped in her father’s arms. She spoke truth about how Jesus had never left me. I was the prodigal daughter who had come back to my father’s house and he was sending his servant to bring me a robe of love. Over the last two years he has been there every step, as I healed, as I became whole, and as I said yes. I discovered my worth. I can now answer the question ‘How deserving are you?’ and answer 100%. My heart is full with his love. I am sure that there will be times I stubble like a small child he will always be there to scoop me up. To wrap his arms around me, and sing a song of celebration. I know it is because of him. I know with every breath I posses, that I am worthy of his love. Not because I am perfect , but because I am his child. Just as you are his child, have faith that you are 100% deserving. Run to the father’s arms knowing he too will scoop you up and carry you through.

Romans 8:14 For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God.

Countdown to Thanksgiving Day 5: Thanksgiving Ingredients God Has Put in Front of Me

I am happy to see that I am getting visitors to my new blog and people are responding to what I have to say. I only hope that the words I write glorify God, and inspire those who read every symbol I type. This week I reached out to a few friends back in Boston, it just reminded me how much I miss them. However, I know that they will always be a part of me because they are more family than just friend. I didn’t live close enough to my family during my stay in Boston, so I found people who like family would show up when I needed help. Some of them became a choice, and others God led me to.

Today I was sitting in the living room listening to an open playlist on spotify as I filled out job applications online, and I recognized one of the songs I used to love by Alexi Murdoch called Orange Sky. It was a song that had been on the soundtrack for the movie Into the Wild. If you haven’t seen the movie I definitely recommend it. Anyways, the movie which is based off a nonfiction book about a man who gives up everything and sets out on a journey  through America to the Alaskan wilderness. What inspires me about his choice is how he begins to live his life whole-heartedly. He took life by the balls, so to speak. It’s something I admire, because in this season I want to learn to live with such boldness.

The boldness I seek is not to leave everything to travel across the world in search of something. My boldness comes from a realization that God has invited me (and you) to a banquette. The things he wants of me to savor are sitting right in front of me. I ask myself….. Do I really have things to figure out when I need to instead see the bounty sitting right in front of my spot at the table. I can take a bite out of allowing my body to be a temple, and taste what it’s like to be a runner. Maybe that is what I have been looking for to be healthy. I have tried a few things but have never been consistent. Instead I let the lies I was told when young hold me to being a person unmotivated.

I now believe Jesus has been asking me to take a heaping spoonful of writing. However, up to this point I was to afraid to share my voice. Yet, he has showed me my voice and understanding are unique. The Lord has given me a gift of understanding, this includes not only what I know but what others know. I feel him saying take a piece of dessert child, the dreams and possibilities await you in the future are sweet. They do exist and can become a reality, even if they seem silly or foolish. Don’t forget the gravy on all of this is the Lord’s grace and love which make all things true, good, full, possible, and even worthy. The lies you have clinged to don’t have to be what you believe about myself or the world. You can let it all go to be renewed through love.

Some months ago before I was laid off, I had chosen to start on a journey towards volunteering for a mission project overseas. I went through the whole process. It was a lengthy application where I was asked questions about my moral values and character. I was accepted into the program. Next I went to a week long training session the first week of June. I felt like this was something God was strongly asking me to do. For the first time in my life I truly said yes, I said yes to this calling with every ounce of who I am. At the training retreat where we learned about support raising and what the eight month program would look like, I agreed to get rebaptised. I had been baptised when I was a child but never as an adult, where it was my decision and no one else’s. I will share the baptism story another time, but just know that I did feel renewed after stepping out of the river. I ended up slowly raising money when I returned, putting in the work to go. Then four weeks before I was to leave, the assistant pastor at my church sat me down and explained to me why he felt like it was not my time to go yet. Because I needed the sponsorship from my church to attend the trip, I was not be allowed to go . The money that had been raised up to that date will still be available for me to use at another time. However, I did not leave as originally intended.

I was angry and confused. How could someone say I could not do what I felt God calling me to do?  I can still be thankful for God using the journey of going as a way to transform me. To draw me closer to him. I know that the promise he gave me to go overseas is still relevant. I see now how he had some other ingredients to offer before me, ingredients in my thanksgiving feast that will become a dish which many will find filling. However, he still has some things to teach me before I start mixing. I think about a souffle in this case. If everything is not perfectly mixed together and the recipe not followed to the exact measurements then it falls flat. Once you get everything how they need to be, and then bake it, the end result is a golden crust gleaming on top of a mound of yummy goodness.

I was excited about the transformation I knew that I would go through on a trip overseas. Now I feel like God wanted to show me that transformation does not have to take place half around the world. Instead you can transform right in your own backyard. He continues to call me to throw out the past lies I held so true. Instead replace them with the fresh ingredients of his bounty , a bounty that sits right in front of me. I can be healthy, happy, and fulfilled. The first measure is a commitment to write with the Lord’s glory during the next year. The second measurement is taking action towards living healthy. Third measurement is a continuation of daily devotion that was started this summer. Fourth measurement I see is to listen to God as he continues to teach me the instructions and call out additional ingredients each step on my journey. I want to see the golden crusted mound of yumminess as my life comes forth from the oven to be shared with all those around me. Including you who are reading my words in this moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beginning…..

Writing, putting words of thought  to paper or in my case keyboard. the words begin to form into a story. the story that we all hold inside of us. The story of our individual lives. One that makes us who we are, the one that takes our short paragraphs that come together to form a chapter which combine to become a book. In my case this blog.

Why have I chosen to begin a blog you may ask? It started with a vision I had about what I want in my life moving forward, and a longing to create. You see I have always had this deep design to create things….works of art really. And what is writing but an art form. As a child my favorite subject in school was english. I loved the stories we would read and would digest every word, it would take me to the place that children go in their imagination where anything is possible The future and world can be anything they dream of. I remember in the fifth grade I had an english assignment to write a poem. It was a poem about birds that I saw often out the classroom window on the top floor of the elementary school. I remember my teacher giving me high praise for my creativity. I felt such pride in my accomplishment that I had a notebook that I kept writing me and more poems in. The next few years I would scribble countless of poems about the bus ride home and the kick ball I played on the playground, or the way I felt when my parents argued. Sometimes they were silly little things where I tried to rhyme every other word….even much that I would make up words if I couldn’t come up with a rhyme. Sometimes, I shared what I wrote and other times I hid my poems away like a secret that was between me and the paper I wrote my words on.

In the seventh grade my love of english class grew even stronger, and I remember my teacher handing out a list of books every one should read before college. The list had hundreds of books and stories, among the list were the great literary classics. Words that authors had written hundreds of years before I even came into existence. I loved stories, and yes I was that girl in class that often got in trouble for having her nose in a book and not paying attention. In eight grade one of my friends invited me to join the writers club, it was led by one of the junior high schools english teachers. We would meet in the library every  week, practicing different writing assignments that the leader or students would come up with and then we would share what we wrote. Sometimes we would write a short story or essay or poem, and the would sometimes pour onto the page and other times they would come slowly. However the time passed it became the one thing I looked forward to every week. I was with others who shared my love of writing and books. To think back to this time, I wonder why I haven’t started a blog until now.

Those years leading up to my ninth grade year, I had so much love for writing and reading…then I found myself stifled. In the ninth grade year we had to read Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. Two years before when I started my conquest to read all the great classics, Dickens had become my favorite author. I read many of his books, and Great Expectations was my favorite. So when I found out we had to read this awesome story for a class assignment I was excited, until the lessons started. I knew the story, and often I would read ahead of the assigned chapters. But when we were only reading one chapter every couple of days, and the teacher dragged out every little detail. It became agony to sit in class and listen to her go on and on. For the first time in my life I hated english class, not just hated but loathed. The one school subject that I had always been so excited for everyday had become sour. I still did well in english but I no longer carried a book around everywhere, I no longer read for enjoyment but rather obligation. It became this way until my senior year of high school, when I had a wonderful teacher named Mr. Yoke. In his class we spent the entire year studying the hero’s journey. Every essay we were assigned asked us to not only research the subject but also be creative in sharing our own voice. I realized that I had a voice worth sharing.

I began to journal in college, mostly because I has under a lot of stress and it became the one tool that allowed me to unwind. If you have ever written a journal before then you can understand how getting your emotions and thoughts out onto paper can not only give clarity to your experiences but also be a great tool to distress. Today I have many old journals sitting on the shelf in my bedroom. Sometimes I will go back and read the words I wrote and feel encouraged about just how far I have come. They are my outlet, a way for me to understand my own life. As I reflect on my journey with writing, I know that everything has led to a greater desire to share my voice. To speak what little wisdom I have gathered in my thirty some years of existence to give what understanding I hold to others. I do not know how many will hear what I have to say but knowing that it is possible for even one person to enjoy my stories makes me smile. Over the years I have often thought about how I could write a book. I am not an expert writer, and I have poor spelling sometimes. Yet, I know that like you I have a voice worth sharing. This is an invitation to come along with me. To hear not only what my story hold in the past, but also the present and the future. This is the beginning of sharing. May you find some small incite into your own life’s story through reading about mine.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”  – Maya Angelou