Help Me God

/Help Me God
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“Wake Up, You Need to Make Money”

M and her family are missionaries in Africa. Their life has been characterized by moves and shifts, encountering the most broken people, and utter reliance on the Lord.

She didn’t finish her degree at Bible college and is in the process, after almost 20 years, of completing her last two semesters. Because, hey, there was no money, and then they got good jobs and had kids, and then they moved overseas where ministry happened. Now she walks into brothels and shares the Gospel and rescues babies from their pimps and brings them home.

We were eating dinner at Dr. G’s apartment, and I was fascinated by her story. Her husband’s business is what completely supports her ministry to these women, and because of his connections, he’s been able to get them out of trouble on many an occasion.

She said, “What God redeems, he uses.” Her husband’s terrible childhood and exposure to the

Travesty

Sometimes I read something and have to blink back tears.

Tonight I was scanning the news and saw an article about mass illegal immigration from Serbia and beyond through the Hungarian border to reach Western Europe. This has probably been happening for a long time, and I don’t ever pretend to be on top of things. But, tonight, the article was highlighted because of Hungary’s recent decision to seal the border with massive barbed wire and walls.

Accompanying this article was a brutal description of deaths: refugees found floating to shore from capsized boats in the Mediterranean, photos of little girls with hair tangled up in barbed wire, a freezer truck dumped at the border oozing decomposed bodies of Syrians who were trapped inside. They found a baby in there, by the way.

What is this dark world? Why? Sin? Evil? Travesty after travesty?

I can’t call it tragic because it’s expected. Sin has infected

Today I ran errands

It’s too easy to worry. I hate it.

Sometimes I look around me and wonder if other people are even thinking about some of the things that drive my mind to oblivion. Like, the kind of thinking that just snowballs races runs jumps until I’m standing teetering on the edge of anxiety. Where are the brakes on my thinking?

I know I’m analytical. I write to help me understand what’s going on in my life and what God is doing. Sometimes, though, the analysis slowly draws my head downward until I’m navel-gazing and trapped inside a melodramatic bubble where I forget Jesus is still Lord and that he’s in control because, hey, he made the universe and holds it together. Col 1:15-20.

I’m reading Luke. I’m taking each piece and just studying it, instead of glazing over and neglecting to ask questions: what does Jesus mean? Why did Luke choose to include this

Catharsis

It’s quiet around here.

I’m back in the city temporarily for work. Dearest Claire and I are rooming together for the week, and it’s a strange place without the crew, profs, and daily routines that light up campus during the school year. I’ve left Julia the Roommate, Hebrews class, and Year 2 behind. And I have come out more reliant on Christ than ever.

It’s as though this year opened up a whole new level of depth inside my heart. Things seem more real, more three-dimensional, more important. I know how much more I need Jesus, and I have realized that I am united with him as his chosen child. As the church, I am a part of the collective bride of Christ, joined with him as one flesh. I have seen intercessory prayer answered as friends have experienced peace, clarity, and reassurance from the Lord. My own faith has grown as

“Lord, I Need You” and the Extrovert

I sometimes feel a panicky desperation in my heart whenever I’m with people I care about. It’s not because I dislike being with friends or claustrophobic; on the contrary, I want those moments to last forever, and I feel this rising tightness that whispers intensely to me: “Lock this in! Take in everything! Analyze every color and shape and emotion in this scene! Because it won’t happen again!”

I have an eternal Rolodex of those. Today, I added several scenes to the picture diary in my head. Watching the sunrise with some floor sisters this early morning, sitting quietly in the plaza as campus woke up, and skating at an 80s-style roller rink are some of those precious images. They are broken down into bits and pieces — it’s not like I can vividly remember each and every fleeting thought — but I value them. Sometimes it’s hard to move into

“Hearts Like Ours” and the Assurance

“He is faithful. I don’t understand,” she laughed. “There’s a lot of grace.”

Brynna the RA and I took a long walk this afternoon through the park and down to the beach. The weather is beautiful, the end of the semester is near, and the campus is alive with shorts and flip-flops.

We hadn’t been able to really talk for some time due to work and school schedules, but I was so glad we were able to catch up. Her encouragement and experience is like a refreshing wave regarding some of the stuff I’m sorting through. God provides and speaks through our brothers and sisters more often than we know. I will miss her when she leaves for ministry across the world.

I continue to humbly learn how much I need Jesus. I need him to love others through me, to wake me up, to give me words that will help and not

“Nothing Without Love” and the Struggle

Too much information + an analytic mind + a pressing internal desire to know God’s truth and get it right by his Spirit = (not sure yet, not at the end yet, is there an end yet?) Add Nate Ruess’s latest tune, and that’s been the soundtrack for today.

I met with Dr. M. this morning to process some things I’ve been learning in class and life. Namely, where do I fit in God’s designs for his children? I know my passions and giftedness; how do I honor him and not malign the Word when it comes to teaching the truth of the Bible?

This discussion is one that I’ve been turning over and over in my mind. I so desperately wish to serve God, and I want to “get it right” when it comes to what his Word means in light of A) who is given the green signal to teach