On Rest and Healing

Sometimes I feel like the player that has been taken out of the game.

I'm not saying this is a bad thing,
But rather,
It is a humbling kind of thing.

Some of us are in the front line of battle
Fighting all for His glory.
Others of us are in a season of waiting,
A time of preparation.

A friend once came to me frustrated.
She wanted to be out doing things for God.
She wanted Him to send her now.
She was tired of hearing Him say, "Wait."

I smiled as I had been in that position before.
I told her to cherish the season of waiting.
Trust that He is preparing her for something greater.
Knee deep in a spiritual battle,
I also admitted that I sometimes wished
That I too were still in the season of waiting.
...But I realized that He had called me to the frontline
For such a time as this.

After going through a period of waiting and preparation
To an intense spiritual battle for a couple years,
I find myself in a new season.
A season of healing,
A season of rest.

There's a part of me that wants to tell God,
"Come on. Send me back in the game.
I want to fight for You."
But He tells me,"Rest, my child.
Let these wounds heal."

I recently asked one of former professors
How I can begin to heal from being exposed to so much spiritual warfare?
Get close to His light.
Soak up His Word.
Let it speak healing into my life.

So here I rest
Waiting for His love to heal the wounded pieces.
Satan my have tried his best to destroy me,
But here I still stand.
Here I am safe
In the arms of my Saviour.

In battle, the god of this world may be strong,
But our God is stronger.
Yes, He is greater.

And I can't wait to go back into battle
To serve my King.

Something that Inspired Me

"If I could give everyone only one piece of advice it would be the following, 'Greet each day by sliding out of bed and hitting your knees. Tell God how much you love Him and thank Him for everything you can think of. Then give Him your day, energy, passion, desire, and needs. Talk to Him throughout your day. Turn off the radio while you drive and picture Him sitting beside you. Tell Him what is on your mind and ask Him advice. Then wait for the answer. He is faithful to always respond...we often simply assume He will not. Finally, treat each day with the desire to make your Heavenly Father smile. I like to close my eyes and picture my actions bringing a smile to His face.'"

--Dr. Jill Jones, Associate Professor of Graduate Education at Liberty University

If I could become half the woman that she was in Christ, I would be happy. This quote that they used after she passed away last year still impacts me greatly.

And I hope it inspires you as well.

Have Mercy on Me

The thing that I love about being a writer and a musician:

Connection.
We may live separate lives,
But in a way we are all connected.
We, all broken people that have wandered astray,
Each have our own stories.
Stories of joy, hope, love, grace, redemption, and light
Along with stories of pain, struggle, sorrow, loss, and darkness.

A couple weeks ago I found myself in Lynchburg, Virginia.
I planned to be there for school, but God always has a bigger message
A bigger plan for the times that I have visited Liberty University.

It was as though God knew that I would need space and time
Away from my normal environments to heal and be encouraged.
As always, God knew the right people to put in my path
For the two weeks that I was there this June.

It was there that, alone in my hotel room,
I first listened to JJ Heller's song,
"Have Mercy on Me."
I wept
...scratch that.
I sobbed as I listened to it over and over again.

A connection.
Someone that understands.

I had read the interview she had about this song prior to listening to it.
Someone had suggested that I listen to the song
Because it was about how the artist struggles with panic attacks.
Something that I have been struggling with greatly
For the past six months.

An artist that I have never met
Took the very same words and questions that I had wrestled with in my heart
And turned it into a beautiful song.
Suddenly, I realized
That I am not alone.
And that this struggle
...will bring me closer to Him.

This is why I am a writer.
This is why I am a musician.
To show others that they are not alone
And that there is a God that loves them
So much.
A God that is with them through every story of joy
and every story filled with sorrow.

Not Anymore

We dance through ashes
We sing through tears
We paint though our trials
We act though our fears

The times when we don't know
Which way is up
And we don't know if we have
Enough to fill this cup.

We continue walking
When we'd rather
Be on our knees.
We continue smiling
When we'd rather
Find a place to weep

The times we say yes
When our heart screams
We can't.
The times we give in
Just one more time
Just
One
More
Time.

We hold our breath
Until our lungs bleed
Until our heart shatters
This wasn't
How hope was meant to be.

I'm a dreamer
That has forgotten how to dream.
I'm a fighter
That let my fears paralyze me.

Jesus, take this cup from me.

Take these pieces
Scattered on the floor
I can't put them back together.
Not on my own
...Not anymore.

So let me dance through these ashes
And give me a voice through the tears
Paint a colorful story through these trials
And help me be me
And fight through these fears.

Father, take this weight from me
That chains me to the floor.
Set me free from this prison.
Give me grace to fly.
I'm not doing this alone.
...Not anymore.

Transitioning

There was another suicide in the village of Hooper Bay today.

I heard it from one of my students from ACC because she was a fellow high school classmate of the girl who commited suicide.
The girl who committed suicide has a baby that hasn't even turned one.

It makes me really sad.

I was telling a friend about the suicide issue in Alaska today.
He responded that he never even knew that stuff like this was happening there.
Most people don't know.
I was thinking today that more people in the lower 48 need to be aware though.

I do know.
And
I think this is the hardest part in transitioning back to Illinois.

The other day I went to an eighteen to twentysomethings group close to the Chicago area.
The first thing that I noticed was the nice cars.
Then the plasma tvs.
Then the people there with their nice clothes.

It was a bit of a shock coming from a rural Alaskan culture.
I used to want to be like that when I walked into settings like that:
Have the fancy cars
The nice clothes.

Not this time.

People in Alaska used to call me urban,
But I can say that there is one area in which I have changed:
I'm not as materialistic.

I'd rather just go into a place and be who I am
Than pursue the newest trends.
Don't get me wrong,
The worship service was definately what I needed.

But I just couldn't get Alaska off my mind.

As I looked at all of the nice/pretty things there,
I couldn't help but imagine how else the money could be spent.
How much more people could be sent to places that are in great need of His light.

I think at the core of it all,
I just need to get used to being back in Illinois.
God can use me here just as much as He can use me in Alaska.

Your Love is Enough

I am nothing without His love.

Because of His love, I have a greater capacity to love others.

This year taught me what it means to be a servant of God.
Full-time ministry is tough.
Being the frontline ministry of a ministry is tougher.

I never understood the heartache of the Alaskan Native culture
Until I lived it with them.
Their loss became my loss.
Their tears became my tears.
I lost count of how many nights I was up late with students for hours
As they grieved their loss
As they shared their tears and pain.
I was overwhelmed by their sadness,
Yet I was blessed to wrap them in my arms as they cried and pray for them.

There is power in prayer.
I saw God's power of healing through ministering to these girls for a year.

I remember one of my students bravely saying, "We've got to do something about this!"
Something about the multiple suicides
Something about so much death
Something about the substance abuse
Something about the physical/sexual abuse
Something about the people in the village turning to alcohol and drugs
Rather than a loving Savior.

One girl that I met lost 11 close friends/family members to suicide
...In one year.
The village of Hooper Bay at one point had a higher suicide rate
...Than the national average.

If Alaska is part of the United States,
A part of our own country,
Then why don't more people know about this?
And more importantly,
How can I help those in so much pain?
These are things I pondered as I arrived there.

But at the same time, I find that Alaska is one of the states
That is the most open to the Gospel.
In these times of despair,
Christ is a light that brings Alaska hope.
I can see God transforming Alaska.

It is His love
That is enough to light up the darkness.
And it is His love
That allowed me to minister and be ministered by the Alaskan Native culture.

And to respond to my student's exclamation:
Yeah, we've gotta do something about this.
We need to show people His love.

Learning To Breathe

Our society lacks in valuing a crucial necessity in life.
Our society lacks in valuing boundaries.

It preaches push harder.
Succeed in all that you do.
Never waste a minute.
Fill your schedule.
You can always do better.

But when does our world ever preach the importance of rest?

About a year ago a great mentor told me that if I did not create boundaries,
I would burn out in two years tops.
And here I stand (barely) a year later.
I have reached the point of burn out
Even to the point in which I must face the consequences.
I get evaluated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in a week.

Becoming a workaholic
Is no substitute for healing.
Helping others who need beyond what you have to offer
Doesn't eliminate your own pain.
In the end,
Your wounds will still be there.

So six car accidents,
Six months working as a counselor in a very unsafe mental health residential,
And one year working with a population that suffers great heartache later
...I finally broke.

I lacked in boundaries.
I never let myself rest.
...All to avoid my own pain.
That is
...until my body forced me to rest.
It decided to no longer function.
The stress was too much.

So I had a breakdown mid last semester
3,629 miles away from my family and closest friends.
I finally was pulled out of the ministry team for a week to rest so that I could last the final two weeks.

I barely made it to the end of the semester.
It was definately only because of God.

Needless to say,
I've learned the importance of rest
Of being able to say no to what I cannot handle.

God created a Sabbath for a reason.
Never forget the importance of rest.

Oh The Places You Will Go

I find that God puts passions within our heart that often open unexpected doors.
That is...If we are brave enough to use these passions that He gave us.
We grow in our passions.
We grow in our gifts.
And like a conductor, He points out the perfect timing.
At least, that is what happened to me as a writer.

A unique door opened when it seemed like doors would forever be closed.
A recent college graduate can easily fall prey to cynicism in this day and age.

About a year ago, I had encouraged a fellow friend and talented writer to continue writing.
He is a very gifted writer.
And it was at that point that I was inspired to write as well.

We encouraged each other to pursue our passion for creative writing.
And as similar interests often bring people together,
We became friends.
As much of friends as a person from Chicago and person working in Alaska could be.

Soon enough (two months later) I found myself boarding a plane to Anchorage, Alaska.
The person sitting next to me looked astounded at my move to Alaska even though I had never been there in my entire life.
God had opened this unique door
So I took a unique leap of faith
And went.

The journey from that point on is enough to write pages worth
Or perhaps a book,
But I still want to emphasize:
If He has gifted you, given you specific passions,
Use them
Because you never know the places they will take you.
They may even take you to some place you had never imagined.

Maybe even some place that seems silly.
Some place like
...Alaska.

Reverse Culture Shock...Or Something Like That

One of my coworkers warned me about the reverse culture shock that I would experience upon moving back home. Mind you, I had been home for Christmas break and didn't experience too much of the culture shock, so I briefly acknowledged the fact that it might happen and then proceeded to change the subject.

I noticed the obvious things at first:
The grass is a lot greener (literally).
There is a lot more traffic.
I no longer live in a family that consists of 35 students and 4 coworkers.
The sun doesn't stay up until midnight.
Canada doesn't seem so close
...And I am no longer surrounded by mountains.

But the longer I stay here, the more I realize:
Life has moved on (people date, break up, get married, have babies, etc).
I have changed a lot
...while others may not have changed much in the last year.
I'll say inside jokes from Alaska
...but then remember that I have to explain them because these people weren't with me there.
I'll say common Native phrase like 'Poor, I jokes, adii, or quyana'
...and receive really interesting looks.
When people ask me about Alaska,
I dive into a lengthy story only to realize that most people only want to hear the 2.5 second-5 minutes tops version of your story.
I've realized that people are more inclined to ask "How is Alaska?"
Rather than, "How are you?"
...I just tell them that Alaska is beautiful.
I guess we can leave it at that unless they inquire for more.

It is the strangest thing.
To be a new person and come back to a place that you have known for ten plus years.
Something so familiar,
Yet you feel so out of place.
This past year I had a clearly defined purpose (granted, it wasn't an easy one).
We fought hard in a spiritual battle for nine months.
It took its toll on us, but it in no means was a failure.
Lives were transformed through Him
...Including my own.

Reverse Culture Shock

It is hard to tell what is reverse culture shock for me right now.
I'm experiencing a myriad of emotions
Some related to the post traumatic stress (I'm being medically evaluated in a little over a week)
Some related to the loss of a culture and gain of a familiar one
And some from just being completely and utterly weak.

But there is one thing that I know:
I may have returned home less,
But in Him I have been made greater.
Yes, this was not a failure.
It was an eternal victory.