The Plan

Today my Grandma said to me, "Last year at this time you would have never thought that this is what you were going to be doing with your life...you have had a hard year." And she was right. Last June I was in a relationship with a man I loved and I was expecting to be getting engaged right around right now, I was going to be a wife by December 2011. That was my plan. And I loved that plan. I put my hope in that plan. I put my joy in that plan. I had a PLAN.

Tomorrow morning at 8:30 I will be boarding a plane in transit to South America (with no man). I was asked recently what my "plans" were once I got to South America, and when I planned to be back. I looked at them and I said, "7 years." Now, that is my way of saying, what ever God wills. I have no plan, other than going to serve, with undivided devotion, Jesus Christ.

I have incredibly mixed emotions. My heart aches with sadness as I leave those I love. My mom just told me that God was going to do marvelous things there, and I replied, "I know, I just don't see them yet." But when my spirit lets me see with spiritual eyes what is ahead of me, I can't help but become excited. I'm all about some adventure! I just didn't expect to be going on an adventure, especially this adventure, alone.

But I'm not alone. "I turn my back on my father, my mother, I turn my back on every other lover, and I press on, yes I press on...Because I am in love with YOU." You are safe. You are hope, you are joy, you are my future, you are romance, you are love, you never leave me. And I will gladly give up my life in this world for life in your Kingdom. "He is no fool to give up what he can not keep to gain what he can not lose." So true, Jim, so true.

Faith

In 6 days, at this time, I will be sleeping in a bed located in Colombia. Fear is setting in. The unknown is by far my biggest fear in this move. Fear even defines my dreams when I dream of Colombia. My mind can not wrap itself around anything other than the unknown, and in ALL of my thoughts about it, the resounding feeling that arises is fear. But my spirit is crying out from within me another tune. Peace, that surpasses all understanding. There is one thing I know, and it really is all I know about this journey. His name is Jesus Christ. In this knowledge of him, I indeed consider surpassing worth, and for his sake I suffer the loss of all things, even my grip on "all I've ever known." He is the Author and the Perfecter of my faith. And what is faith? "It is the...conviction of things not yet seen." <--The UNKNOWN.

I have been reading in 1 Kings. Over the last week I have read about Solomon and his journey to kingship. Right as Solomon became king, he worshiped the Lord in his own inadequacy, desiring God to be in charge. God looked down and saw his humility and took the position Solomon desired him to have...FULL CONTROL. Then he asked Solomon what he could give him, blessing him for his humility. We know the story after that...

I have bound myself to the service of God as Solomon did. Humbly taking an incredible position, but completely inadequate to fulfill it apart from his grace. This is my moment on a "high place." My place of worship and surrender, and I am crying out to God as Solomon did. Now I don't know if the Lord has asked me the question of "What can I give you?" but I do believe that if it is not being asked, I have the boldness to enter into the throne room and humbly ask him, if need be. And that is what I have done.

Tonight, I asked the Lord to give me authority over fear. To walk as he walked, but more specifically as his disciples walked after he ascended, not being afraid of what they didn't know, but acting in faith. Acting in faith...even unto death. My mom has told me for years that fear and faith can not abide together. But they have. One at a time, but definitely both.

I draw my line in the sand, I make my altar. I will stand in faith.

The Door

I hear the tap tap tap on the black ironwood door that is called my heart. Was the door closed? I last left it cracked months ago. If it were open, would they not just walk in? So why the tap? The tap concurrent with the beat of my heart that guides the syncopation of my breath. Anticipation is the entry way to the door. I quickly arrive at the door and turn the knob, which I affectionately name romance, and wait, for just one moment.

The moment seems to last forever, but I want to soak it all in; I want to feel every emotion I can experience. I know that the moment I open the door, it will be like Christmas day, but don't we all know that at 4 o'clock every Christmas, all you really have left is your memories. But Christmas Eve, that is where the magic lies. This is my "Christmas Eve". So I wait. But it taps again, with more vigor.

With great joy and nervousness we open the door that takes two to open (which you may have figured out is the reason I could not close it.) And what stands before me is the landscape I see upon opening my door. No one is there...again. Ding-dong ditch is what I used to call it. Tears stream down my face as I realize my foolishness. I have imagined the tapping. Images of Mr. Darcy have clouded my ability to hear and know the true tap. My alternate reality. My false reality has become my ultimate reality, except in this reality, my prince doesn't sweep me off my feet. So the door remains open, and I will wait for Him to close it again.

But wait...WE OPENED THE DOOR. Why would he open the door to disappoint me? He has never disappointed me. Even when he allowed me to peer through the peep hole, or under the crack in the door, or even through the keyhole. And what about the time that in my strength I was able to crack the door. But no one ever awaited me outside. He was inside. He didn't go and come, he didn't become impatient with my failed attempts to open the door. He always waited for me to return, and as surely as the coming of the dawn, he was there, in my every walk back of shame.

So why did He open the door? I turn around and look at him. His smile returning so kindly to me. His eyes beckon me to turn around...back to my assumed disappointment. I don't want to turn around, He is all I want. I can't bear the pain of rejection again, and I know he has not and never would reject me. But I can't shake his kind eyes, that give me the guidance and the confidence to turn around. I slowly turn.

There he stands, the only one the door could fully open to. He was familiar because he looked like Him. Clothed in humility, eyes of kindness, a heart of patience, hands eager to serve, feet eager to GO, and words that cut through the marrow and into the soul. He was, however, evidently weary because the road to my door was filled with obstacles. But they were obstacles he was willing to endure and overcome. He did not back down when fear surrounded him, he only pressed on. He did not turn back, even when he wanted to, because of the peace that had decided this. He was also faithful. Why? Because he had not made the journey alone.

And here, at the door, awaited his prize: Me. Our eyes met and instinctively knew the path we would journey next. A journey of 3. A three-stranded cord is not easily broken.

It is eternity to know God...

It's not that I don't want be here, it is that I want to be there. I want to be back in my comfortable little lifestyle where flesh was alive and there was no death on the horizon. But death is here now. Death to my self will. Because if it were me, I would have it like Burger King every day, so I could just "have it my way".

My way would have me where my pain could be dulled by an unrealistic sense of security. Security in friends. Security in my future. Security in the KNOWN. Let me repeat, the known. I have never lived on the edge, but the mountain I have been climbing has has not gotten me to a plush valley at the top but rather the edge, the edge of the mountain, with no way down, all I can do is JUMP. Jump into the unknown, where it all looks like a black hole of fear. What if I fail? I can't see the bottom, I can't even see my hand in front of me.

And then with much trepidation I jump, and it is peace like a river that attends my way. I'm surrounded by the glory to glory. And my hand feels something. Something I've felt before. A hand, Another's hand intertwined with mine. BUT NONE OF MY FRIENDS JUMPED WITH ME. They didn't even make the climb...to the top. Who's hand is this? None other than the One who formed my hand, who invented the hand. And it "fits". My stomach no longer drops because of the free fall, rather I become content in this darkness. Because though it is unknown, He is KNOWN. I know him. I'm do not want my false security because he is all my security.

It is eternity to know God...