Free To Struggle

I think these words have been forming for some time now --- sort of bubbling up inside me until today when I listened this song (sorry for the lame video, couldn't find official one) and read this article and it sort of all came together in my mind, and so here we go.

image from blog.whitneyenglish.com 

I first heard this song on a friend's blog and fell in love with it, and subsequently asked for any and all of this artist's music for Christmas (I got two of her albums --- sweet!). This song seems to capture my constant longing in music and lyrics:

"I don't know how to follow You without losing my way;
Jesus come and take me by the hand.

I don't know how to trust that You will do the things You say;
Spirit teach me how to understand ---
that Your love can heal the wreckage of my soul;
the beauty of Your light shining in me.

I don't know when You'll take me home to paradise with You ---
the day when I will finally be free ---
oh, the day when You come back for me."

Life is a struggle. Struggle. Life following Jesus is a struggle. Daily dying to self? Yeah, sure...a lot easier said than done. Every day. Every moment. I fail in an epic way --- I don't know --- weekly? Daily? True, I tend to be a little hard on myself (I also tend to be a little soft on myself --- just depends on the situation. Crazy.), but as my friend Marcus pointed out the other day, everyone thinks you are a pretty good person unless you, like, kill somebody, but nobody really knows what's going on inside. Well, except God. I'm thankful, and also terrified, by that. But for Jesus, who swallowed up the wrath of God that was my due. Like I said, though, it's a struggle.

So I came across this article today and the guy was talking about how sometimes it seems like the only testimonies we hear are from people who've experienced a sort of instant and miraculous healing. He pointed out that we don't often hear from the people who've wrestled, and are still wrestling, for years with a sickness or injury, yet have learned how to endure. He said we need to hear those great triumphs in testimony form too, because we need to see those heroes of faith (a la Hebrews 11) who ultimately point to The Hero Jesus. I agree with him. And, I would go farther.

I think we need the testimonies from the people who, just like me, are STRUGGLING. And who haven't even figured out how to endure, and maybe can't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet. Testimonies from people who, like me, spend WAY too much time than I'm comfortable admitting crying (or maybe you would insert "being angry" here, depending on your personality), and believing lies, and wishing someone would ask me if I'm okay, and not knowing how to respond when someone asks me if I'm okay, and silently hurting inside, and hating myself for being stuck in the exact same place I was yesterday, and last week, and last month.

The thing is --- I know I'm not the only one. And I've been wanting for weeks now to say that. I know there are people in our church family who are struggling. And feeling like a failure for struggling. And feeling like you're the only one struggling and failing. But that's a lie.

This morning, Casey reminded me of a song --- one line says, "Hallelujah, we are free to struggle; we're not struggling to be free" --- the premise being, because we are in Christ we are secure and we are free to wrestle this thing out with God every second of every day. It's not going to be easy. It's going to be hard. God is smashing down idols in our hearts, and building up spiritual muscles, "and it's tearing me [and you] apart," in an awesome way. And we are not alone (lie #345567) --- Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. And we are not alone (lie #345568) --- we who are in Christ are "members one of another" (see, like, all of the epistles --- Romans 12, Ephesians 4, etc.).

Praise God, I have an awesome God-fearing, Jesus-loving, Spirit-filled husband who patiently endures my fits of crying and passionately points out the nasty lies that I am believing and asks me if I'm okay and waits if I don't know what to say and loves me even though I seem to struggle with the same things over and over. Wow, what a small picture of a BIG God. How gracious of God to give me this man who points me to a Better One who is way more patient, way more enduring, way more forgiving, way more loving  (can it be?). AND, on top of these things --- a loving God, a godly husband --- God has added a family.

The local church is a family (the whole big-C Church is a family). And God put us in this family when we trusted in Christ, and He meant for us to live out this life-struggle together. And if we don't, we are Not only hurting ourselves, as the saying goes. We are hurting the whole body. God knows this is hard for me. I mean, how many times have you seen me stand up in front of a large group of people (or small group of people!) and share my struggles? Probably on one hand, that's how many. I know this is what God is saying to me. But, I thought, maybe, God might say it to you, too. So, that's that. I look forward to hearing some more stories from people who are struggling, and are okay with admitting it. I'm gonna try to do that with you fam
.

There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother

I was reading my friend Tim's blog this morning. Here's something that caught my eye in the post: 

"Nobody knows you like God knows you. He knows the fears you hide, the dreams you have in your sleep and those you have while you’re awake. He knows the strengths in you that you don’t even know in yourself. He knows the sin that you hide from every other soul. He knows your years and your moments, both those that lay behind and those to come. His thoughts toward you are for healing, wholeness, peace and power."

All of a sudden, I remembered laying on my bed as a teenager in high school, imagining these long conversations with a guy I liked, in which I was able to eloquently describe everything going on in my mind and heart, and magically, he understood me perfectly, and knew just the right questions to ask me, and just the right things to say to comfort me. I longed to be understood. I longed to be known -- and not just known, but known AND still loved. 

Our former pastor (when we were in Raleigh at Summit) JD Greear often talks about this desire to be both known and loved. If we are loved, but not known, it's just shallow and fake. If we are known and not loved, it's kind of our worst fear come to fruition. We are either too much, or not enough. What we really long for is to be known to the depths of our being, and loved in spite of it. That's why I spent hours wishing I had a boyfriend who would listen to me. I thought that's what I was waiting for. Someone to complete me. And I wasn't altogether off-course. I was waiting for someone to listen to me, someone to complete me. I was just willing to settle for far less than I was being offered.

When I was 17, in October of my senior year of high school, I finally quit resisting God's pulling on my heart, and I took the first step to follow Jesus, and I gave Him my life, and I haven't turned back. Immediately, I started reading the Bible, and I literally could not get enough of it. It's like I had been starving and someone had finally given me a plate of food, and I couldn't just eat one thing off the plate. I had to have a bite of every single thing on the plate. I would start off in one place, and then I'd flip to another, and then I would wonder about something else, and go there to read. The word was alive! I was alive! The Holy Spirit was now living in me, showing me truth that I'd never seen before. 

I remember the first time that God showed me how the whole Bible was about Jesus. I was reading Proverbs 18:24, "A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." I imagine I must have sat upright then -- "That's Jesus!! That's Jesus! You mean this whole Bible is about Jesus?? It doesn't say His Name here, but I know it's about Jesus!!" 

How amazing was that moment when I realized all I'd ever longed for, I had found. There is one who sticks closer than a brother, and His Name is Jesus. He knows every single thing there is to possibly know about me. He loves me more deeply than anyone else ever could. He has more reason than anyone else to not love me, yet loves me all the more. "Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of His inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy. You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea. You will be true to Jacob, and show mercy to Abraham, as you pledged on oath to our fathers in days long ago (Micah 7:18-20)."

Amen.

"Take words with you and return to the LORD..."

This is the admonition found in Hosea 14:2. On this National Day of Prayer, I found God gave me these words from Isaiah 59:

"Surely the arm of the LORD is not too short to save,
nor His ear too dull to hear.
But your iniquities have separated you from your God;
your sins have hidden His face from you,
so that He will not hear.
For your hands are stained with blood,
your fingers with guilt.
Your lips have spoken lies,
and your tongue mutters wicked things.
No one calls for justice;
no one pleads his case with integrity.
They rely on empty arguments and speak lies;
they conceive trouble and give birth to evil.
They hatch eggs of vipers and spin a spider's web.
Whoever eats their eggs will die,
and when one is broken, an adder is hatched.
They cobwebs are useless for clothing;
they cannot cover themselves with what they make.
Their deeds are evil deeds,
and acts of violence are in their hands.
Their feet rush into sin;
they are swift to shed innocent blood.
Their thoughts are evil thoughts;
ruin and destruction mark their ways.
The way of peace they do not know;
there is no justice in their paths.
They have turned them into crooked roads;
no one who walks in them will know peace.

So justice is far from us,
and righteousness does not reach us.
We look for light, but all is darkness;
for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows.
Like the blind, we stumble as if it were twilight;
among the strong, we are like the dead.
We all growl like bears;
we moan mournfully like doves.
We look for justice, but there is none;
for deliverance, but it is far away.

For our offenses are many in Your sight,
and our sins testify against us.
Our offenses are ever with us,
and we acknowledge our iniquities:
rebellion and treachery against the LORD,
turning our backs on our God,
fomenting oppression and revolt,
uttering lies our hearts have conceived.
So justice is driven back,
and righteousness stands at a distance;
truth has stumbled in the streeets,
honesty cannot enter.
Truth is nowhere to be found,
and whoever shuns evil becomes a prey.

The LORD looked and was displeased that there was no justice.
He saw that there was no one,
He was appalled that there was no one to intervene;
so His own arm worked salvation for Him,
and His own righteousness sustained Him.
He put on righteousness as His breastplate,
and the helmet of salvation on His head;
He put on garments of vengeance
and wrapped Himself in zeal as in a cloak.
According to what they have done,
so will He repay,
wrath to His enemies
and retribution to His foes;
He will repay the islands their due.
From the west, men will fear the Name of the LORD,
and from the rising of the sun,
they will revere His glory.
For He will come like a pent-up flood
that the breath of the LORD drive along.

'The Redeemer will come to Zion,
to those in Jacob who repent of their sins,'
declares the LORD.

'As for Me, this is My covenant with them,' says the LORD. 'My Spirit, who is on you, and My words that I have put in your mouth will not depart from your mouth, or from the mouths of your children, or from the mouths of their descendants from this time on and forever,' says the LORD."

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Help!

I woke up Wednesday morning in a bad mood. A "foul mood", actually. My words to God were few:

"GOD,
I am in a foul mood. Because? I have to clean? The house is a DISASTER? And I feel overwhelmed by all I have to do. In life. I need help."

By lunchtime, I'd only managed to eat breakfast and get one of the three loads of laundry in the washing machine. Oh, and I had already cried at least once, if you count crying as productivity.

Poor Casey, coming home to the weepy wife. Again. But God filled him with patience and truth and love for me. "Cristina, your identity is not in housework." And I said, in my head anyway, "Why are you talking about my identity? I'm talking about these dishes! And laundry. And the mail strewn around the living room. And your dirty clothes on the floor. Yeah...your dirty clothes. And your dirty dishes. The problem must be you."

But God was faithful. As I wasted time scouring pinterest for some fix-all solution to my dirty house, and perused facebook to distract myself from the pile of dirty clothes behind me, God sent me to a blog I'd never been on before. I came across a post she'd written about "finding rest in the unfinished". Her blurb about her blog? "Bottom line, I pray that God would stir a big faith, a deep love, and an unwavering hope in us regardless of our circumstance -- regardless of the glaring laundry." Funny, God. But  you know what she had the nerve to say? The same thing Casey told me. She said:

"If I dig down to the root of that pursuit for perfection, I find identity issues. I find concern for what (other fallen) humans might think if they saw the mess. And I find distrust that God is working or actively loving me."

And I fell instantly on my face and confessed to God and my whole attitude changed and I did all the laundry and dishes and proceeded to whip up a completely homemade meal, with dessert to boot...OR...I exited the blog and disregarded it because I didn't believe that was my problem, and continued on in my funk for the rest of the afternoon. Yes, that was it.

Not much further along in my self-loathing and blame-shifting, I went to meet Tammy and Katherine and Blair for our weekly time of accountability/encouragement. I didn't want to answer any questions. I didn't want to be real. I didn't want to be vulnerable. I didn't want to admit that I can't clean my own house or make my own husband dinner. A 27-year-old should know how to do these things. And hadn't God given me enough grace already? I mean it's been almost three years that I have been learning how to be a wife! Isn't that enough already??

After several times of me sheepishly answering "I don't know" to questions posed by my friends about what was going in my life, and what I needed help in, I finally broke down -- tears streaming, of course -- and told them I felt like I was failing at life. I knew it was silly, but dishes and laundry and cooking were overwhelming me. They are just always there, waiting to be done, and I never have felt like I know what I'm doing and pushing through it has just been exhausting, and there you go. Now you know. I don't know how to be a wife. (sound sort of like identity issues, doesn't it?)

So, can you guess their response? I wouldn't have! Of all things, these crazy people said they wanted to come help me clean my house. Which you would think was the answer to my prayers, right? Chores are overwhelming me, and my three friends just offered to take that burden off of me. That should delight me. Then, why was I filled with a sense of dread and guilt instead? Why did I keep saying, "I don't know guys...I really don't know what you'd do...I mean, it's not that a big of a deal...I...er..."

I told Casey about the friends' offer that night. I told him I was nervous. "Why are you nervous?" he asked. "I don't know...I mean, what are they gonna do? What if they get here and think that it's really not something for me to overwhelmed by?"

I woke up the next morning. Friends were coming at 10 am. I tried to decide what things should be tidied before they got there. I mean, I wanted them to help me clean, in a way. But I didn't want them to see how messy I am. Really.

I sat down on the bed and Casey had a video of an interview between an author and some guy (?) pulled up. Honestly, I don't even know what the video was for...I only watched a few minutes of it, but this one piece was like a lightbulb. The author was talking about humility or something -- I don't know?? -- and he said "You know, every morning, before I get out of bed, I pray three things. 1. God, I'm a man in desperate need of help. 2 Lord, please send helpers. 3 Lord, help me be humble to receive their help."

First thing Wednesday morning I had asked God, maybe only half-believing (one quarter believing? One sixteenth?) he'd answer, for help. He'd answered, because even when we're faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself. He'd sent helpers. He'd sent Casey. He'd sent the blog lady. He'd sent these three friends. I ignored the first two. Now three of them were coming to my house and I had to decide what to do. "Okay, God, I'll take it. I'll take their help. I'll let them wash my dishes, and clean my bathrooms and dust my shelves. Even though it is killing my pride...okay, because it is killing my pride. I understand now, God."

And, so they came, Katherine, and Tammy, and Blair. And they brought along two happy little boys, a box of donuts, a bowl full of chicken salad and a box of crossaints, and a banana cake with almonds and chocolate sprinkles. I mean, who does that?? Who comes to clean someone else's mess up? AND brings food, too?  And then leaves it here for ungrateful me to eat it??? (And how could they have known that just hours before, Casey and I had sat down to look at our budget for April and then told God it would be a miracle if we didn't overspend it, and asked Him to take care of it?) God does that. And he lives inside those girls. And He teaches me. And He's so patient. And even those helpers I first ignored, Casey, and my sister blogger --- His Spirit opens my eyes to even see the way He was speaking to me then. He's just so good to me. So good. And I just don't deserve it. But I'm His daughter. And it's just His delight to grow me to be more like His Son. He won't stop, either. He promsied. Not until it's complete. And He keeps His promises.