Streams of Mercy

While I was testing the water for my shower a few weeks ago, I stopped for a moment and watched the water pour off of my arm and separate like a fork in a river and then stream off of my individual fingertips. This is a vivid image in my mind, and I thought to myself, "this is like the Holy Spirit flowing from God to us on earth." Well, as you all know, I wasn't in the greatest places spiritually a few weeks ago and let that rest. Also around that time at the end of March one of the sermons at church was on God's mercy, and the pastor informed us that the translation of "mercy" means "the loving kindness of God." I was at such a dark place that I found it hard to stop rolling my eyes throughout this sermon (yes, I'm a Christian and have a really hard time believing sometimes). It isn't until these last 10 tens or so, since about Easter, appropriate I know, that I've felt my heart really begin to thaw (cue Frozen reference). 

Mercy.
-An active dam in the wrath of God.
Oh, at the point I heard this sermon, I understood wrath. I had a felt like I had a wrath for God- I was so angry, so hurt, so upset, you know the drill. I felt God's judgment upon me wherever I went. I couldn't understand how someone who took the time to create me, who supposedly loved me SO much, could let bad things happen to me, could cast judgment upon me, could let me experience pain and heartbreak and so much more. I didn't get it. They say that your relationship with God is often a reflection of your relationship with your father, so it only makes sense that I have abandonment issues with God; I'm afraid He'll leave me. No, my father did not leave me by choice, but abandonment is the only way to describe that feeling. Well, back to the like father, like God comparison when it comes to God letting us see pain. 

I vividly remember learning to swing on the monkey bars in the backyard one spring afternoon with my dad. I was about five and it was one of my coveted afternoons where it was just "Dad and Vic" time before my sisters got home from school that let out much later than mine. Anyway, he was holding my waist and instructing me to alternate swinging my arms on the monkey bars. He kept allowing me to swing my arm and swing my arm, and then he let go because I told him I was ready. He warily stepped back. Well, I did one bar by myself and then fell on my butt on the ground, knocking the wind out of me. I was ticked at my dad. He chuckled at the sight of me and then told me, in true Bob Rivard fashion, to "get up and walk it off." My anger and frustration grew and I snapped at my dad for letting go. "But you told me to," he said. I stomped off crying and he came over a minute later and explained that my behavior was unacceptable and that even though I was embarrassed, I shouldn't have been rude. Then he insisted I try again on the monkey bars. 

How does this relate to my relationship with God? Sometimes I insist He let go. I pull away so quickly and God, like my dad, just has to stand and watch so that I can prove to myself that I can't do it on my own. God takes a step back and lets me get hurt, just like my dad did. My dad knew I wouldn't fall to a serious injury, I fell on my butt, a cushy surface, but I had been about to fall on my head, he would have stepped in to keep me from a really dangerous injury, just like God would have- just like He's always done. I've talked on here about my thoughts of suicide, and God steps in; my conscious and the Holy Spirit won't let me do it. I think it's God who comes back, but really I admit that I was rude and ask for forgiveness. My dad could have been mad at me for telling him to let go. He could have said "I told you so. That's why you always listen to your father!" but he didn't. God doesn't either; He could get really angry at me for straying and for saying I don't need Him, but He doesn't. His MERCY prevents Him from doing so. 

                                                                                                                                                                   

That night after church I decided to sit down and rekindle my quiet time with God, so I started with Paul letters to Corinth. Although I read 1 Corinthians 1 and then waited almost another month to continue, I find it interesting what I wrote in my prayer journal:

Lord, like a tether pull me back to you. Show me how to feel welcome in your arms again. Lead me to where your love is without borders.

Tonight I realized I have one page left in my journal. I started this journal on June 21, 2012, just about 2 weeks after my gut-wrenching break up. The journal catalogs the darkest period of my life, where I clung to my faith like I had nothing left in this world, then shows how things got better, then I just stopped writing, but from June 21 to October 23 of 2012, I wrote almost every single day. I can tell in here when things are bad, because that's when I write the most. One sign of trouble and I go running back to God blaming him for "letting me get away." Each time, God opens His arms to me and lets me back in. It takes time because I might have to run a marathon to get back to where He is, but He's always there, because of his mercy. A lot of change is coming in my life, and I'm overwhelmed and anxious and stressed, and I'm not ready to tell the world about the decisions I've made, but probably will later this week. I've had more change and opportunities arise in the last 2 weeks when I've been diligently seeking Him and getting to know His heart more. Coincidence? I think not. His Word even says,

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.
-James 4:8 (NKJV)

So now, despite how deep and dark of a hole you are in, remember that His mercy flows to us like the water in the shower. Remember this with me as times are tough and anxiety is high, and...
Smile, God loves you!

Talitha Cumi

Well, I just got back from a beautiful cruise with two wonderful people for Spring Break, and despite how relaxing and calming the cruise to Key West and Cozumel was, it made me realize how really unhappy I am. I've talked on here about how downright angry I am the majority of the time and how I've fallen into this pit of depression and I'm desperately trying to get out, but I'm kind of refusing to turn to God (I know that's dumb, but that's how it is). 

Today I got really angry. As I left Ansley's apartment to drive back to Athens and first calling my mom to tell her I was headed home, I picked up my phone to call the one person I could count on to endlessly listen to the details of my trip-- G. It took me a second, just as I was about to hit "home" on my phone, that G wouldn't be there to answer. I miss him SO much and I feel like I don't give myself time to grieve. It's hard- it's really really hard. I took him for granted for so many years. Even just to have someone who would listen. He might "selectively listen" to what I had to say, but I knew someone was on the other line. He enjoyed being the first person to get all of the details; it made him feel special. I wanted to call him today, just to tell him how pretty Mexico was and how we had to run back to the boat because we almost missed it. I can hear him laughing and saying he was glad I relaxed. I can hear him asking if I put on sunscreen and asking if I stayed away from the sailors. Gosh, I really really miss my G Money, the G to my V. I know that when I go home for Easter next weekend he would have been the first one to see my pictures from the cruise and he would undoubtedly have funny commentary. It's hard realizing how much you'll miss someone. 

I'm stressed about getting a job and graduating and all of the change headed my way. I got pulled over for speeding on Friday (the first time I've ever been pulled over), and the officer didn't give me a ticket or a warning- it was like he knew I was a poor student teacher. He made me promise to slow down, and G's voice came ringing back to my ears. What was it he told me every time I left the house after getting my license since I was 16? "Slow down, Vic." "Nothing is worth speeding through the streets." "You don't have to be in a rush all the time." And yes, I need to slow down while driving. The price of a speeding ticket is worth nothing in comparison to if I hurt someone while driving, but I realized that I need to slow down in life. I'm constantly rushing to the next thing I have going on that I'm not taking time to enjoy the last few weeks I have as a college student. I feel like I've let my fear, anxiety, and depression keep me from living a typical college life and I regret that, which also causes a sense of anxiety (yay cyclical nature of that beast). 

This just adds to how unhappy I am right now. I'm unhappy with how overweight I am (almost 20 lbs since sophomore year, despite losing 8 lbs before the cruise); I have acne for the first time in my life- all hormonal from stress, so basically there's little I can do about it. I look at pictures and I just don't look like myself- I don't look happy and I can see it in my eyes. I don't like what I see in the physical mirror or the figurative one. I keep thinking I can fill this void- with food, with remarks from men, with clothes, with makeup, with teaching, with reading, with helping others, but I know the only thing that can fill that void, but I just don't want to turn there. I keep thinking that if I lose weight and figure out how to clear my skin, I'll meet a nice Christian boy that I will eventually marry and that will fill the void of the loneliness I feel. I know in my heart that's not true, but society tells me I'm almost 22 and the fact that I've only had 1 serious relationship is bad. The fact that I don't date means something's wrong with me. The Bible tells me the opposite- that guarding my heart is a good thing, but this is a battle every girl (and boy I'm sure) faces. I know that dating someone right now would fill the void in a wrong way. I heard a quote the other day from a married couple, and the husband said, "Two fulfilled single people make a fulfilled married couple. There's no other way to put it," and that's so true. I want to be fulfilled but I'm pretty ticked at God. And, like every other girl, I pray for my future husband. I pray that he leads me to Christ. I pray that he loves Jesus more than me, and Lord I pray he comes soon. So today I was thinking about how lonely I was and how it seems like guys don't notice me (pathetic, yes, but I'm always honest on this blog and I can't deny those feelings) anymore, and I prayed for my future husband or future relationship and I heard that still, small voice that I don't really let myself hear much and all it said was, "Me." 

"Me." Him- the Holy One- that's where I need to turn for my fulfillment. I won't be able to lose weight if I don't fill the void with Jesus over food. The acne, well I can't really do much about that. I won't be successful as a teacher if I don't realize that my purpose is to glorify Him, not to be liked and admired by students. I can't change students' lives if I'm doing it to feel good about myself at the end of the day. Buying makeup and putting it on and playing with it won't mean anything if I don't let His light shine from within. I know these things, now it's just a matter of doing it. Ansley and Derek got tattoos at a non-shady place in Mexico. I was there for moral support, but Ansley got a tattoo of a verse she'd been wanting for awhile. It's from the story of Lazarus when Jesus says, "This sickness will not end in death." Ansley asked if I got a tattoo what it would say, and I was brought back to this blog post (here) where I talked about Jesus raising Jairus's daughter from the dead. (No one should be surprised that Ansley and I unknowingly have the same story for the Bible, just in different ways.) Anyway, the chances of me getting a tattoo in my life are slim to none, but "Talitha Cumi" is Hebrew for "Little girl, arise," and is probably what I would get if, in an alternate universe, I got a tattoo. That story means a lot to me which you can read about in that blog post. I bought Max Lucado's Fearless today to reread and take notes and read more of the Biblical stories in that book. I know I need Jesus to fill the void, now it's just a matter of swallowing the insane amounts of pride that I have at being able to fix myself alone and actually doing it. 

For now...

Smile, God loves you! (Even when you're like me and try to deny it).