Waiting is REALLY Worth It

I remember that day vividly. On a warm summer evening in July, I was feeling a sudden inspiration all the while being over cumbered with grief from a broken relationship, to start a blog. I excitedly texted my good friend Jinny that I would turn my aching pain into words for a part of my story and she couldn’t have been more thrilled for me. Writing really is a coping mechanism for me to release stubborn emotions. I frantically searched and found multiple sites on how to set up a blog, etc. I picked a site, a name, and what my writing would be based on. I then took it to the next level and clicked on the plus icon to start my first post!

That’s when it hit me.

I knew what I had to write about. I suddenly felt less excited and more anxious and sad. If I were to get my message out there as well as my emotions, I knew I was going to have to face them.

I had to re-experience the pain, anger, fear, and sadness I felt about that broken relationship and to find a way to put them into words and share it with strangers. That was NOT an easy thing to do. I knew I had to turn to God and pray my heart out about it. As time went on, my heart was letting go a lot of intense emotion and I felt an overwhleming peace about my past.

I wrote about my pain and how I coped with it (only through the power of Jesus Christ). I wrote about the seasons I had experienced: my love season with God and the importance of singleness, the pain with dating and to watch out for wolves in sheep clothing, and eventually about my season of severe depression and where I considered suicide last year.

This post today is a loving one. A post that reminds my heart why I started this blog in the first place. I’m sitting here at my black kitchen table with a mason jar full of sweet tea, glancing over at my husband of almost 2 months, just thanking Abba Father above that every tearful, daunting, dark nights I cried from sadness, the days screaming in my car full of anger, and praying and worshiping until my lungs almost collapsed led to this: waiting is REALLY worth it.

I found the love I was looking for in a person, but it goes beyond that. I found someone whom I love getting to drink coffee with every single morning. Whom I love getting to pick groceries and figure out a budget plan with every month. A love that lasts more than a Sunday. 3 years ago I was broken, lost, and then found me. I fell in love with being alone and enjoying me. Now, I fell in love with my husband and never want to be without him.

Pursuing Christ.

The dictionary defines pursue asĀ (of a person or way) continue or proceed along (a path or route. That is the core statement in our daily lives of pursuing the call of Christ. I know we all go through our seasons. A time to thrive, and a time to wither. I have had that very thing happen to me. I deliberately wrapped my arms around temporary satisfaction and turned my back against God. The more my soul was being sucked by sin, the less I began to pursue call and I suddenly began to feel at lost of my purpose.

Months and months I awoke in a frantic on dark nights just entrapped by the heaviness of guilt and shame. When the sun finally rose in the morning, it still felt as if the night never left. I began to feel hollow on the inside, ashamed to even call myself a Christian for all the mistakes I have made. I almost was tempted to turn away from God because I felt like I had ran my course with Him and there was just no hope in Him still using me as a vessel of His own heart. The voices of the Liar began to overpower me. I believed I was not good enough. I believed there was no way I could even enter church or sit with a Christian friend because of the sin still encrusted beneath the surface of my skin. My vision, passion, and just soul felt dry and meaningless. I could not find a possible way to escape this endless cycle of despair.

Yet, my friend, Jesus was there all along. The nights where I felt like ice, His loving light burned brightly to satisfy my warmth. The days where I sat in quietness of my car or laying naked in my bathroom tub, God stroked my hair and whispered sweet melodies to try to entice my broken heart. Each day Jesus pursed me, because He will never abandon or give up on me. Jesus saw my agonizing weakness as biblical value to my personal relationship with God.

For it is through human weakness that God’s strength upholds us and is displayed for the world.”

God compares us to a jar of clay. Before we are made into His perfect mold, we need to understand that our clay is a brittle, easily broken substance. Through that, though, He makes our clay into jars–designed to hold the most valuable treasure: the Holy Spirit. God places His treasureĀ within our clay selves so that we can withstand the damaged, broken cracks life causes toward us.

God still uses us in the midst of our wandering. There is a requirement of focus: We need to seek things of Heavenly value, not Earthly value. This is to be a continuous act of never taking our eyes of the Cross. The word is our instructions to a heavenly life and to live righteously.

“God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us.” Acts 17:27

“Let us not become weary in doing good,Ā for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9

“Turn from evil and do good; seek peaceĀ and pursue it.” Psalm 34:14

ā€œSometimes Stars Fadeā€

It begins unexpectedly.

Sometimes things break. We strive to protect our desires, basking in the euphoria we feel when our needs are met. But once those desires become flat, we feel deprived.

Sometimes stars fade. We see the light. We know the path, itā€™s lit for us. No stumbling, just smooth sailing. The wind is blowing in the right direction, no clashing thunder tries to rattle the mahogany boards that make up our ships. It feels safe, comfortable, and secure. That is, until the stars start to clash down abruptly from the heavenly skies, making our clear path ambiguous. We begin to panic. Chests tighten, palms shake, hearts race.

When I put my hope and trust into things that are earthly, I’m choosing to quench my spirit with temporary water. I get flustered when I’m constantly thirsting for more earthly values. I shame God, and turn my bare, cold back against His warm, immeasurable embrace. I cut my feet constantly onto my shattered dreams, expecting to escape the bloody chaos. He still rescues me… because He knows that I don’t belong in the ground, I belong on the clouds.

Sometimes things break, but He chooses to fix our undoings over again. Sometimes Stars fade, but His ceaseless light burns my unlit eyes so I can see life through a perspective of the Savior, not the Serpent.