Sending love and light

When I was a kid, growing up in church, I heard a lot about right and wrong. The whole stereotype message of the Baptist preacher “hell fire and brimstone.” Yeah, I was buried deep in that. I remember when I was eight and realized I didn’t want to go to hell so I knelt at an alter and, without knowing what else to say, prayed, “Jesus save me. I’m sorry.” The words repeating over and over again as I hoped that I would not find myself in a scary, fire filled, dungeon forever tortured for eternity.

I found my salvation that day, but it wasn’t until much later that I discovered God truly as He is. 

What I had also found that day was a set of rules and regulations that I must follow. God would strike me down and punish me for not behaving. I knew what was right and what was wrong so I intended to follow every rule to the tee.

When my best friend entered into middle school a grade ahead of me and she, the one who was “the good one” of the two of us began the say “damn” and “shit” occasionally I chastised her and was confused about how she could do that. How could she mess up in something so “simple?” She told me that, “one day I would understand.”

And I did…but not for a very long time.

I continued to make choices in light of what was right and wrong. And held others to the same standard. I mean I was busting my ass to be a damn good perfect person, shouldn’t everyone else?

In college…my lack of grace and extraordinarily high standards for myself put my at the crux of a conflict between 5 girls living in a condo. I was to blame for it all they said.

I would discover that I was passive aggressive and bitter, resentful. I didn’t like that they were “doing wrong” and making mistakes and completely okay with it. Some times they did “wrong” things and committed sins and they didn’t even consider that they were mistakes or wrong! I couldn’t understand. It didn’t make sense.

[Remember when I told you that my Nana always told me not to make any important decisions until I was twenty-five because that was when something clicks and you wake up and realize, “Oh. This is life.” Well take heed my friends. She has always been the wisest one I know.]

My birthday is in a little over a month and my twenty-fifth year will come to an end. It also comes with a brand new year. I cannot tell you how absolutely excited I am for both my twenty-fifth year and 2013 to simply end. (Is that wrong? Wishing away time? ….I’ve spoken with God about it and apologized for my lack of presence…though I try to stay present…he understands why I want it to end and we’re okay with it I think. In case you were concerned.) Anyways, twenty-six will be embraced with open arms with a bittersweet goodbye to twenty-five.

My Nana was right, y’all.

I thought I could write my own beautiful, perfect, flawless story. I thought that would make God happy. Turns out….I cannot write a flawless story. In fact, what I have discovered is that I am incapable of controlling anything but my responses to this beautiful mess of a thing we call life.

I woke up one morning and BAM…there she was: life, in all her beautiful, painful, amazing, challenging self. slamming into my face like a mac truck.

But…what a year of life at twenty-five has taught me is this:

Jesus is sweet. When it is written, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind.” That is truly what He desires. When He says that He has given us a spirit of “power and love and self-control,” He means it. When he says that He comes to bring us life abundant and to the full, He is capable of giving it.

I have tried to follow every rule and regulation. Both God-breathed and man-made…and failed miserably. I have tried to maintain perfection and fallen embarrassingly short every single time. I have hated myself because of my feelings of inadequacy due to this and allowed myself to be in awful situations because of it.

But most importantly…I have never found myself so broken and alone that I had space and awareness and stillness enough to even try and see and wonder…”God, will you be enough? Are you? Could you?”

Twenty-five hit hard. And God stayed present. When met face to face with all of my failures–my greatest (and most unexpected) of a lifetime–God didn’t cringe. He didn’t turn away. He didn’t strike me down. (That one was a shocker.)

Lessons I thought I had learned…became real at a whole new level, a depth of meaning I didn’t know I could have. Spaces that had been filled by people now shattered and empty…and there was God, Father.

I know it sounds so cliche to say that “in my darkest hour, God rescued me” so I am not going to say that. But what I will say is that while (still currently) in my darkest and my most broken and heartbreaking place…God stayed and loved and hugged.

He is providing a spirit of power and love and self-control. He is the protective Shepherd. He has caused tears in Shavasana at the end of yoga. He has given me images of golden butterflies resting as He empties me of darkness and muck and He calms my spirit and makes me radiant with His beauty, life and light. He has–as a friend reminded me–spoken tenderly and so sweetly to me in the wilderness.

God as enough.

It’s not a foreign idea to me as a “Christian by birth.” (I recognize it’s not passed down through lineage.)

However…it was a foreign way of life. It was a foreign feeling. There was always just enough good to not have to make sure that He is in fact enough. Without anything else at all.

My best friend shared this song with me back in March when I was dwindling in strength and desire to hold on through the storm (before I even knew what the storm was might I add). The lyrics, “Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders…Let me walk upon the waters, Wherever You would call me…” wrecked me. I could not imagine such a faith. I remember wondering, “God…I don’t think I can have faith that big.” But it isn’t about me. It’s about Him. And being (and knowing and feeling) encapsulated by His light and love…well that changes things.

So my friends…I send you love and light and peace. Wherever life has landed you at–whether at 25, 17, or 73, I pray that you find Him where you are and feel worthy of be called a child of the King who cherishes you and loves you dearly. He sees your heart–the whole mess of all the pieces of your torn, beaten, and tattered heart–and he desires you. He pulls you in close for the best, warmest, most strong and gentle hug your pain cannot fathom on it’s on.

So tonight…may you feel loved. From the tips of the toes to the crown of your head.

Bear hugs my loved and adored amigos,

E