Obstacles, Assets and Perspective

“He entered Jericho and was passing through.  And there was a man called by the name of Zaccheus; he was a chief tax collector and he was rich.  Zaccheus was trying to see who Jesus was, and was unable because of the crowd, for he was small in stature.  So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree in order to see Him, for He was about to pass through that way.  When Jesus came to the place, He looked up and said to him, “Zaccheus, hurry and come down, for today I must stay at your house.”  And he hurried and came down and received Him gladly.  When they saw it, they all began to grumble, saying, “He has gone to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.”  Zaccheus stopped and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, half of my possessions I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will give back four times as much.”  And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he, too, is a son of Abraham.  For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.” –Luke 19: 1-10 NASB

 I’ve heard this story more times than I could count. It’s a classic Sunday school story, and Zaccheus even has his own song.  However, this past week in bible study I saw some things I’d never seen before in this story:

1.       Zaccheus was trying to see who Jesus was – there’s nothing new in that. Jesus drew huge crowds and lots of curiosity, so it makes sense that people would want to try and see who this Jesus was.
2.       I love that Jesus said, “I must stay at your house.” As curious and persistent as Zaccheus was to see Jesus, Jesus sought him out personally and with divine intention. And Zaccheus “hurried and came down and received him gladly.”
3.       Zaccheus’ encounter with Jesus led to him receiving and repenting
4.       Often times what I see as obstacles or limitations in my life, the Lord has specifically and strategically placed them in my life as resources to see and meet Him.

 I’m short – so I get part of Zaccheus’ problem.  I hate concerts and football games and all things crowd related sometimes because I can never see the band or the players on the field…which is why I’m there in the first place. Zaccheus was aware of his limitations, and while most people could see a tree as an obstacle, he saw it as an asset. As I go throughout my day, I tend to see lots of obstacles – hurdles, inconveniences, things to move around or accommodate. Maybe I have a difficult patient that tests every compassionate bone in my body, or maybe plans just fall apart – regardless, I don’t typically see them as a means of seeing the Lord.  Zaccheus was so focused on seeing who Jesus was, that an obstacle like a tree became a resource in which to see the Lord. His perspective changed because he was focused on the end goal of seeing Christ.

I believe that God wastes nothing. That He knows my limitations and my circumstances, and that He’s present in my moment-to-moment life. There’s a constant invitation which He extends to me to meet with Him as I go throughout my day.  What I might see as an inconvenient hurdle, He might see as an opportunity for me to walk in dependence and intimacy with Him, an opportunity for redemption, healing, or sanctification, an opportunity to reveal His character.

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Humility and Community

To say that my life has been a whirlwind since my last post might be a bit overdramatic, but it has been a little busy. Moving is always stressful – and I always feel so burdened by all of the crap that I have. I was blessed to have the company and muscles of my mom, brother Pat, and O’pa – they were phenomenal. I’m officially unpacked and getting to know my little duplex. It’s old and a bit creaky – but we’re getting along just fine J I’ve been reading through some of the letters in the New Testament. It’s been neat to see how the Lord uses different authors with different backgrounds to share and facilitate in the same message. He’s so sovereign over His Word; it’s exciting to see how it all ties together. 1 Peter 5 was so convicting and encouraging that I had to read it twice… it’s always cool to see Jesus point His gracious finger on an area of my life that isn’t in tune with His heart, and then bring Scripture to my mind to reveal His point. For two weeks I hadn’t been able to sleep throughout the night… I saw 2am and 4am every night. I was frustrated and tired, but I just put up with it. I’d mention it to my mom, or to a friend, but did I bring it before the Lord first? No. I just figured eventually I’d get so tired that I would have to sleep through the night. 1 Peter 5:5-7 just kind of brought some truth and conviction.  “Likewise you younger people, submit yourselves to your elders. Yes, all of you be submissive to one another and be clothed with humility, for ‘God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’ Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” I tend to either shoulder my care by myself, or turn to other things or people, before I present it before the Lord. There’s a whole lot of pride and stubbornness at the root of that tendency. I read this chapter the first time a couple mornings ago. That night, I’d mentioned my lack of sleep to a friend, who volunteered to pray over it, but it didn’t really occur to me to apply the passage to my own life and bring the issue before the Lord first. In frustration, I asked Jesus to help me sleep. I woke up 7 hours later for the first time in two weeks. As I was lying in bed, I could just hear Jesus’ voice calmly reminding me of the verses I had read the morning before. “I care about every detail of your life; I want you to come to me. I’m for you, and you can trust Me.” Walking in humility is incredibly difficult for me, so I love that Peter gives insight into how to do it, rather than just saying, “Hey guys – be humble!” Humility involves casting my cares – what I value, what consumes my thoughts, what I’m worried about or wrestling with, what I love, etc. upon the Lord. When I cast my care upon the Lord, I remove them from my shoulders, placing them into His hands, trusting that He cares for me. I’m no longer depending on myself to handle things, but I’m completely dependent upon Him. It puts me into a posture of humility, one that practically reminds me that God is God, and that I am not. It’s an admission that I can’t but He can. When He holds all of my care, then I have to trust that He’ll meet my needs and take care of me in the way that’s best for me. Peter goes on to talk about resisting Satan, referring to him as a “roaring lion, seeking whom He may devour.” (5:8) I love that in verse 9, God encourages us to “Resist him (Satan), steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world.”  How often do I buy into the lie that I’m alone in my struggle with sin? I see the pretty, put-together-outside of other believers and miss the reality that our struggle with sin is universal. Believing the lie that I’m alone, or that my sin is too gross to let anyone into, isolates me in fellowship and makes me weak with shame. I think that’s why the Lord calls us to, “Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much (James 5:16)” and why He calls us to “know” that we, as the body of Christ, experience the same sufferings. He knows better than we do how lions hunt the prey that’s weak and separated from their pack. It’s why He encourages us in Hebrews: “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:23-25)” Not only was I hit with the conviction of not coming to the Lord with my cares or concerns, but I was also convicted of not making fellowship or corporate worship with other believers a priority. Walking in humility is not only consistently turning to the Lord and trusting Him with every aspect of my life, but it’s also doing life with other believers, living in community and confession, encouraging one another and bearing each other’s burdens. I’m not going to lie, that’s not always a pretty or easy picture, but it’s so much better. We were not meant to do life alone – we’ve been called to so much more.   <3 a

24

The last twelve hour shift of the week felt like an eternity of charting, dealing with noncompliant patients with extensive psycho-social history, and juggling two incredibly helpful nursing students. I felt like I could fly on the knowledge that at 0645 the next morning I would be flying home. Sasha dropped me at the airport and security made sure everyone knew it was my birthday. I had to laugh, because they were so joyful at 4:30am. I made it through security in record timing, by now I’ve got it down to a science. After a quick stop in Atlanta, I landed in Charlotte. Mom wasn’t there yet, so I headed to baggage claim. I got a phone call and practically ran to meet her as she walked into the airport. It was the best hug ever. Mom mentioned she brought a surprise with her, and I turned to see the lovely HannahB walk out of the bathroom. There were squeals of excitement and another best hug ever, collecting of bags, and then an everlasting trip to Ikea. That place is a brilliant marketing strategy: let’s trap our customers in a maze so they can’t leave! Hannah crashed somewhere between Rock Hill and Columbia, so Mom and I got some good time talking and catching up. I love that woman. Moe and Bella greeted us in the driveway and immediately rolled over for their tummy rubs. That night we baked scones and feasted on veggies and hummus for dinner (well, the guys had pizza). My birthday morning was spent with a cup of green tea and time spent on the porch with my parents. The boys eventually woke up, Hannah and I went for a walk, and then we all piled in the car on a hunt for sunglasses. Mom made lasagna for dinner, the grandparents came over, we feasted. Hannah made a brilliant cheesecake for me. It was a solid birthday – mainly because I wasn’t the center of attention. Can I just brag on my brother Patton for a second? He drove up to Clemson, got an extra kayak, shot me a text that said, “Kayaking at 11 tomorrow” and totally swept me up for a day on the river with my best friend?? He’s so thoughtful and gentle at heart, I loved it. Pat’s not one to really talk – like when he came out onto the porch and I said, “So how’s life” his response was, “I came out to rest!”  So the fact that he took initiative, was super patient with us, and used his own gas money, etc. was just impressive. Such a good time with him and his friends, and even O’pa tagged along! Dad grilled out, we feasted even more. My family keeps me laughing when I’m home. Each one has such a unique personality, sense of humor, and joyful element that they bring to the table. Hannah and I giggled like little girls before falling asleep.  It was such a blessing to get to see her for an entire weekend. I got to catch up with Merid and Bryson on Sunday, which was so sweet to see them. Mom and Dad dropped me off at the airport in Charlotte before Mom convinced him to go to Ikea again with her. I made the first flight with no problem, but a delay had me literally running through Atlanta in my beaded sandals and yellow skirt. I feel like I'm always running in airports. Adrien picked me up in Nashville and we stopped in for some Thai takeout on the way home… such a great end to such a lovely birthday weekend. I’m one happy and extremely blessed 24 year old. <3 a

366 days later

Yesterday marked my first anniversary as a post-college graduate. I remember waking up last year on May 13^th too tired to even fix my hair for graduation (after looking back on the pictures, I wish I had put a bit more effort into it). Our apartment was almost empty, saving a few air mattresses and last minute things to pack after the ceremony.
I celebrated my first year out of nursing school at work, on Mother’s day, complete with down computer systems and paper charting. It was a late and exhausting day, seeing as how I clocked out an hour later than normal, but there were some really rewarding parts. I didn’t have much time to reflect yesterday, but this morning over my cup of tea, I’m so thankful for God’s faithfulness.

In the past year, I:

-travelled to France

-passed NCLEX

-experienced more and more restoration in my relationship with my dad

-moved to Nashville

-got a credit card

-became a car owner

-started a job at Vandy

-got my own health insurance

-survived my first OBET with my patient (and had a few others since)

-kept all my patients alive (that sounds dramatic, but it’s not meant to be, that was a real fear coming out of school)

-navigated airports and flights alone

-joined a new church

-met some really awesome friends

-went on my first blind date

-made some tough adult decisions

-bought my first piece of real furniture

-bought my first TV ever (seriously)

-signed a lease on my first, very own, apartment.

-went back to therapy

-did some things I was really afraid to do

-decided I still like slow mornings over a cup of tea.

I was so terrified of real, no strings attached, independence in a new city and job a year ago. Yet, the Lord has been so gracious to me. I am so blessed to be where I am, to work with the people I work with, to experience fellowship with the friends God’s placed in my life here. I’m so thankful for His patience towards me, because heaven knows how much I’ve tried it over these past 12 months. This year has not been easy or very pretty, but it has been one of the richest seasons in terms of growth, joy, challenge, grace and refinement. That being said, I’m really glad to have year 1 under my belt.

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Therapy Session 1

She sat across from me as I tried to settle on the brown leather couch. I was a little unsure of where to sit, but I figured in all the therapy sessions I’d witnessed on TV or experienced myself had involved the patients on the couches – so I went with that. She had blonde hair cut at her shoulders, kind eyes, and a friendly voice. I handed her the paperwork that chronicled my list of issues and she started to ask me what brought me to therapy, where I wanted this to go, etc. After a while of mumbling my way through the session, feeling like I couldn’t explain anything clearly to a wall, let alone a counselor, I fell silent.

“Next week, we’re going to talk a little bit more about your history, family and relationships.”

Apparently I look as terrified as I feel, because she pauses, then asks if that makes me nervous or feel stressed.

“Of course it does. I shelve things I don’t want to think about and try to move on. Of course I don’t want to re-experience certain things, but I know that I need to. I’m just not exactly looking forward to it.” The truth was, I was trying so hard not to let tears slip down my cheeks. Why was I about to cry? It’s a relatively rare occurrence, and it almost never happens in front of strangers. And she was a stranger.

“This won’t be easy. If it gets too stressful, then we can stop and work in that moment… I just encourage you to see this through to the end. You’re choosing to deal with life, rather than just treating the symptoms. You might re-experience feelings that are hard and unpleasant. This won’t be easy.”

“I know. But I’d rather work through it.”

“Oh, on your form you mentioned feelings of worthlessness. Tell me about that.”

“I mean, I never know what to put on those things. I guess I just don’t like myself. I mean, sometimes I do, but most of the time I don’t. I look in the mirror and just see everything that’s wrong, but I know it’s not just a physical problem. I still thought I was fat when I was 96lbs, so I know there’s more to it. I guess I just don’t see what’s to love. I don’t know how to receive love. And I know that when you’re not at home in love, you can’t really love others in a healthy way. There’s always this subconscious taking from them – like a leech, because you need them to feel better about yourself.”

“So if I’m hearing you right, you find it difficult to receive and extend love.”

“I mean, I think I’m thoughtful. I have people that I love in my life. I love people. I just don’t understand why they would love me. I don’t get what all the hype is about, if that makes sense. I also don’t know how I can have such low self-esteem and yet be so prideful." I paused. "I feel like a nut case…”

“Trust me, if I put you in a group of recovering perfectionists, you’d fit right in.”

I let out a short laugh, “Well that’s comforting, I guess.”

“It’s true. Okay. So I’ll see you next week.”

“Thanks for meeting with me.”

“It was nice meeting you.”

I opened my car door and sunk into the seat. Gripping the steering wheel, I couldn’t understand why I had this strong desire to cry. To break. If I was back at home there would be half a dozen places I knew I could go to just to weep, but here in this semi-new city, I couldn’t think of anywhere solitary and safe to escape. I turned the key in the ignition and my car came to life. Merging onto   I-65, confessions of fear poured from my lips, followed by a prayer for help, for restoration, for healing.

And so it had begun…

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catching up

Goodness! I knew it had been a while since I’d posted, and I knew I’d been incredibly busy, but since February? Really? I guess I should catch up. The last half of February and all of March were full of overtime, in-services, and a lot of Airborne.

I now know the definition of being burnt out. When I got home, I was so exhausted; so tired of needy patients with unrealistic expectations – those who confused “Nurse” with “Slave” or “Waitress” and “Hospital” with “5 Star Hotel” or “All-Inclusive Resort.” I’m generally not a violent person, but I knew when I walked out of a patients room, having fought a strong desire to hit her, I needed a break.

Towards the end of March I was able to get a week off and visit my lovely friend Autumn in Athens for a night on my way home. Being in Athens was so sweet. It’s a place that represents healing for me in many ways. I remember escaping my sophomore year for a weekend and receiving nothing but encouragement, love, and truth – even if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear at the time. I’ve adopted some of Autumn’s friends as my own, and whether they realize it or not, they challenge my view of Father God and the Spirit every time I encounter them.

It’s a long drive from Nashville to home – just in case you were wondering. I never thought of myself as having any bit of ADD in me, but that drive makes me itch. I stopped often, just to stretch my legs, but it was never enough. I was stuck somewhere between wanting to just stop and expend some physical energy and toughing it out just to get home faster. I can’t tell you how excited I was to hit that familiar dirt road, see my pups running up our driveway, and pulling in to the sight of my mom and brothers working in the yard and washing cars. Home.

I spent about five days at home. I was blessed to see all of my family and celebrate my precious Aunt Christa’s birthday. Also blessed to sit down with a family friend, who happens to be a gifted financial planner, and glean from his wisdom. A deep tissue massage, two of Chandler’s soccer games, and having all six of us home at once didn’t hurt either. It was just what I needed before heading back to a slammed work week. April was ushered in amidst four 12 hour shifts in a row, and just like that, March was gone.

I bought some new porch furniture. Nothing fancy, just a small table and two chairs, and little lantern lights, but I’ve turned it into my own small oasis (forgetting that the parking lot is only four feet from me helps). The sunny and seventy degree weather has been like balm on my soul, and sporadic thunderstorms like icing on top of a cake. I’ve devoured a couple of books since I’ve come back to Nashville, too. I caved and started The Hunger Games, of which I’m now officially addicted, and I also indulged in the cheesiness that is Nicholas Sparks’ The Lucky One.  I’ve decided that each time I read his stuff, I’m angry towards the end (that I called from the beginning), but I should give him credit because this one was better than the last one I read. I try not to think of how my taste in literature has fallen, but these books were like a vacation, probably because they were written for teenage girls. I’ve realized what a romantic I am at heart – not necessarily a lover or believer in fairy tales, but a romantic nonetheless. Maybe hopelessly so.

I ran for the first time today in a rather long time. My legs felt like Jell-O as I struggled to keep them up under me. I decided to go with some intervals instead of my standard 2 mile jog, mainly because I didn’t think I could handle that much running. It felt good to say hello to that familiar rhythm again, and really good to eat spaghetti for dinner with complete freedom.

So there you have it. I’m imagining you on the other side of my porch table, where my candle sits burning brightly, sharing a cup of Kava root tea (it’s supposed to be a good stress reliever) with me. I realize that, in all likelihood, you don’t care too much about the book I’m reading or what I ate for dinner, but these little details have comprised my life for the past few weeks. However, there are times when I find that sharing these little details is more difficult and makes me more vulnerable than talking about any number of “deeper” things, because they’re real. It’s a way to invite you into my humanity.

The tea is good, by the way.

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a marathon marriage

I run. Not for very long distances, and not very quickly at all, but I run every now and then. Moving to Nashville has been tough because I can’t find any “safe” places to run around my apartment. My solo trail adventures were stopped after my coworkers cautiously reminded me that this is not Chapin, SC. I listened to their wisdom and I’ve been sticking to the treadmill during this rather chilly weather. While I should probably run more in my physical life, I run much more in my spiritual life…and I run from the safest person far too much.

My freshmen year of college I was driving home after a spiritually heavy week. I had the blessing of being prayed over by a guy who had a very similar struggle with anxiety attacks, panic, and depression – only he had been delivered from it. So when I say heavy, I don’t mean bad – I just mean there was a lot going on. Anyway, I was driving home and I had this vision – or picture, or daydream – whatever. I was wearing a white dress and standing alone outside a stone chapel. It was my wedding day and I was the only one left to walk into the church. For some reason, I was afraid. I didn’t know who was on the other side of those doors – and what if there was no one there at all waiting for me at the end of the aisle? As I was about to run, the wooden doors opened and at the end of the aisle was a man – who I understood to be Jesus. He was firmly planted, unmoved, and His eyes spoke the very truth into my fears that He wasn’t leaving; He was inviting me to come. I stood there frozen in place and the picture was gone. I was driving down the highway sobbing.

You can judge me for how cheesy that all sounded – but I’m not exaggerating or trying to be dramatic. At this time in my life, I was the complete skeptic – especially when it came to visions and healing. What bothered me most – for a good few years – was that I never saw myself walking down the aisle.

That same tendency to run is still present in my walk with Jesus – though often it’s not deliberate. Most of the time it’s more subtle, fueled by lies and assumptions that are so easy to believe when I forget to remember God’s heart towards me and His character. Often it comes after I completely blow it. Rather than running towards the Lord, I distance myself from Him. I spend less time with Him during the week, and before I know it I feel like I’m oceans away from Him. It’s small, normal things – like choosing to listen to the radio during my morning commute, watching the weather report or making breakfast before work (instead of eating a protein bar on the way), or hitting snooze just one time too many in the morning – that steal away time from His presence. In themselves, none of it is bad, but when it’s driven by guilt and avoidance then each is a step in a marathon of withdrawal.

This morning I realized how little I actually rest in His presence. How rare it is that I stop everything and just wait for Him. If I’m being completely honest, most of the time it’s because I’m afraid of what He’ll say to me. Fear stems from three scenarios that run through my head each time: 1. Either He’ll come at me harshly, 2. He won’t show up at all, or 3. I’ll actually have to respond to what He tells me – I can’t avoid it or fain ignorance.

The truth is being still before the Lord is difficult… It’s hard for me to be still. But this morning I realized (once again) that the Lord doesn’t put up walls like I do in our relationship. Jesus is my peace – He destroyed the barrier wall of sin in my relationship with the Lord. Although my sin separates me from experiencing intimacy with Jesus, it’s because I’m choosing to walk away from Him – It’s not because He alters. 

When someone hurts me, it’s my first response to put up a wall. When it happens repeatedly, the wall gets bigger and bigger, until I’m completely cut off emotionally from that person. But my first response is not Jesus’ response to me. He doesn’t react out of disappointment because He’s already dealt with all of my sin. He can’t rebuild a wall that He Himself destroyed.

Don’t misunderstand me, sin always hurts the Lord. It’s like a slap in His face each time, because when you love someone it hurts to see them engage in self-destructive behavior, become a slave to lies, or settle for anything less than what’s best for them. He rescued us for so much more. I could be wrong, but the distance and the walls I feel in my relationship with the Lord are almost always a result of my running away from Him, not His movement away from me. He’ll invite me, call me, woo me, and pursue me the entire time – and He knows exactly how to draw me back to Himself. In our marriage, He’s continually reminding me of His faithfulness and inviting me to rest securely in it.

I feel like I just rambled in the most disorganized, nonsensical manner, but I hope you get something encouraging out of it. Jesus invites you to trust Him and feed on His faithfulness (Ps 37:3NASB). Running is healthy and encouraged – as long as it’s in the right direction.

Wishing you warmth and sunshine from this frigid city,

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