all my life you've been calling me

The most amazing thing occurred last night. I attended our weekly Community Group, as I do most Tuesdays, and was encouraged and prophesied over and inundated with love from the Holy Spirit. It’s strange to write those words and realize the weight that they carry. Before last night, I was a bit unsure of the whole prophecy bit in the Bible. I understand that our church believed in prophecy. I had heard stories about prophecies coming true, but I was not a true believer in it. And then last night happened.

For several weeks and months, I’ve been struggling. I have struggled with fear, with exhaustion, with feeling stuck, with resentment, with anger, with uncertainty, with even more exhaustion, with anxiety, with depression, with not knowing how to pray, with not hearing or feeling God, with insecurity, and with other things I’m not sure how to put into words. During much of this time, I have wondered and asked where God was in all of it, what His plan was, and why He was allowing things to happen.

There were some answers, yes, but my heart continued to break for more answers. I continued to feel worn down, to feel forgotten, to be angry. I tried to find joy, and I searched for peace. I asked for peace. And He gave it, but it was often the same thing the next day. And then the next.

In the past two weeks, I began to truly press into God, more than I ever have before. I was at a point, we were at a point, where there was truly nothing else that could be done but to press into Him. It took me a long time to get to this point, and it took even longer to allow myself to let go of my own personal opinions about what it looks like to press into God.

At first, nothing truly changed. It was a lot of work, pressing into God, and it was frustrating to try and try and try but feel like nothing happened. I refused to give up, and eventually, God did begin to reveal Himself in little ways, which I wrote about in this post. But, still, it felt like something was lacking.

And then last night happened.

Like I said, we attended Community Group. Instead of the normal home, we met at a condo (which I am in love with and want all to myself, but that’s another post all in itself). Our Community Group (C-Group, for short) has recently been averaging 20 people or so. Tonight, there were a smaller number of us and then four others who had never joined our group.

The four others came to equip us, to help us to learn about prophecy and to pour into us. It was a divine meeting.

I had difficulty at first with the equipping. Questions ran wild in my head and collided with doubt. I knew and know what the Bible says, but I just didn’t think God could, or would, ever use or speak to me in such a way. And then, dreams were brought up and how dreams can often by from the Lord.

I dream somewhat regularly, and I forget several of the dreams. However, there are several recent dreams I have been unable to get out of my head, and I have wrestled with if they were from God or not. There was a tugging on my heart which told me to talk about the most recent dream and to get direction on whether or not it was from God or if it was just a nightmare, as there was fear that went along with the dream.

When I had the dream, my husband was asleep in our spare bedroom (thanks to our two Labrador/pit bull mixed dogs which regularly boot one of us out of bed). Our family of four was home at night when our house was broken into. Somehow, though I do not remember how, I was able to call the police and then make it back into the living room where we were with the burglars. Our belongings were also in the middle of the living room, ready to be taken into their possession and out of home. I recall a sense of fear in the dream but also a sense of peace. Somehow, though I really don’t know how, the burglars left our home and left our possessions with us.

I was afraid when I woke up. The dream felt incredibly real, and it took me several minutes of prayer and deep breaths before I was able to fall back asleep. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, unsure of whether the dream was real or not.

I spent several days praying over the dream and asking if it was from God or not. I never got a clear answer until last night, when I was told that the dream did in fact come from God and that I had interpreted it correctly. My interpretation was that over the past year we had been attacked and had almost had everything stolen from us (our marriage, our sense of security, our belongings, etc.) but that the time of attack was almost over.

So much more occurred last night outside of the interpretation, and I feel it imperative to share as it was an absolutely amazing and divine experience. But I also know not to share all details of the night as I believe some of it was meant only for me and for the others in the room. There might be a time later on when I am meant to share, but for now, I want to treasure what happened in my heart and truly pray over it.

Like I said, four people joined our C-Group last night that I had never met. They knew nothing about my struggles or our struggles. And yet, the words they spoke and the pictures they shared elicited a joy and a peace in my heart that I have never experienced.

Some of the words spoken were: strength, sunrise, motherly figure, all things new, eagle’s wings, peace, light, coming out of the pit, the cusp of something new, newfound joy in our roles as husband and wife, and humble servant. Two verses shared were Psalm 40 and Jeremiah 29:11. One person also shared the story of Mary pouring perfume on Jesus’ feet. Another person also quoted some of the words I previously prayed and provided God’s response to my words.

I am still uncovering more and more truths in what were said. I am reveling in God’s love and His grace and the fact that He poured out so much into me. I feel so inadequate for what His grace delivered last night but also more complete in Him than I ever have before.

We are beginning a new journey and a new life. His blessing will abound, that was also spoken over us last night, and I feel as though we truly are on the verge of things we never could have imagined as is said in Habakkuk 1 (spoken about here).

And I couldn’t be more excited or more nervous or more anxious but all in the best way possible.

the sunrise this morning. especially poignant after last night. taken with my iphone.

(title from "the house you're building" by audrey assad)

this brokenness inside me might start healing

This past November, I ran away from Oklahoma and returned home to Texas for a weekend. A last-minute trip that occurred because of the aching in my chest, because of the overwhelming tears, and because of an exhausted mind and soul. I had watched my breaking point dance past weeks before, and I could no longer grasp onto the strings holding me to Oklahoma.

I spent a long weekend with my mother. A flight from Oklahoma City to Dallas in the early morning and then from Dallas to Houston, and I was home. Dressed in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, I felt almost as though I had woken from a long dream in which I had graduated college and married. It felt as though I were still the same, wide-eyed blonde with hopes to graduate and then make something of myself.

But it wasn’t a dream. I had graduated in May 2008, married in September 2008, and purchased a home in January 2009. So many life changes in fewer than 12 months. Maybe it was the short periods of time that caused my unraveling in November.

Returning home pieced me back together. My mother was the glue that held all the pieces in place; she is still the glue.

I’m not the best with intimacy, with making friendships that last a lifetime. I am easily hurt, easily angered, and have a green side that I try to hide myself from. I give up on people, but more so, I give up on myself too easily and decide it is time to move on, that I am too much, that it is no longer worth it.

During my escape to Texas, I began to combat these things. A closet full of trinkets, pictures, and memories, and a request that I go through the belongings and decide what to keep, what to throw, and what to pass on to a stranger. It was not what I had in mind for a last-minute flight to Houston, but my mother is the glue that holds me together. And as the glue, she often knows exactly what I need to make me whole.

I saw my entire life in that closet. Friendships that had lasted for 5 years, some that dwindled after two years. Pictures of boys that had captured my heart. Pictures of what happened after my heart broke. Notes passed in class and letters sent to friends in far-off states. And with it all, the knowledge that none of those relationships are truly intact as of this date.

We grew apart. Life got in the way. We moved to different states. There was a fight. Excuses and nothing but excuses for why relationships ended the way they did. Some relationships were meant to exist for only a season in my life, and I am thankful for all those seasons. Somehow the springs, summers, and falls brought me to my current season. It’s more winter than I would like, but I don’t think the groundhog has seen his shadow; spring is on the horizon.

And so many relationships could have passed into other seasons of my life, so many could be here with me now just waiting for the snow to melt and the flowers to bloom. But they are gone, a memory of the past and a reminder of how easy it is to walk away but how hard it can be to move on.

I’m still learning to release jealousy. I am forgiving myself for pushing others away. I am forgiving others for the things I interpreted as hurtful. I am learning to drown in a sea of grace for myself and for those around me. We’re all nothing but human with our own shortcomings and our own downfalls. No one can fix another, and none should need to.

I’m doing my best to relearn intimacy, to allow my heart to open and to allow the possibility of pain. A broken heart is terrifying, but loneliness is much more so.

Life has so much to offer. Some of it is good, and then there is so much that is not. When I remember the past, it’s hard to see the stumbling blocks. I focus only on overcoming and enjoying. How I want to focus on those things now and not just when I look in the rearview mirror.

So I traveled back to Oklahoma and took with me the lessons of Texas, the bottle of glue mixed especially for me by my mother. I’m still broken, I’m still not quite sure how I fit together, but I am allowing myself to be repainted, sculpted, and created better than before.

I still struggle with intimacy. I still worry over the words I say and if anyone will be nearby the next day. I wonder what will happen if I push you away. But I try to not act in the ways of the past. Instead, I reach deep, and I ask for help. I move forward, and I apologize for the wrongs that have been done.

I ask God to guide me. Then I close my eyes, and I leap. I know my mother will always be there to catch me, always available for a plane ride home if I need to be pieced back together.

(title from "the house that built me" by miranda lambert)