Runaway

My mind was blown by a quote in a book I am currently reading.  The author tells a story of a woman who had experienced extreme tragedy in her life, and when asked how she survived it all she responded, “Once we know how much He loves us, there’s just nothing else.” 

It is easier to believe this in the hard times, I think.  When we have nothing or no one to lean on other than God, it is an easy choice - because it is our only choice.

But what happens when fifteen great Christian people are around all the time? It is easy to switch my dependence on God to being dependent on people. To judge and perceive how much I am loved and how much I am worth on what they think of me, what they invite me to, and what they say about me.

It is easy for me to seek love and affirmation from other people.  I am an encourager, an includer, an empathizer. And I really believe that our biggest strengths can often be our biggest weaknesses.  For me, I show love and appreciation in these ways because they are the way I feel loved.  When I receive affirmation or am invited or included, I know I am loved. 

The problem is, humans are not always affirming or inviting all the time (gasp!).  There is always going to be a point in my day or life where I have to rely on something else for my worth and value. 

Ultimately it is always going to end badly when I place my value in human hands; it will probably end up with me being bitter because really you can never receive enough affirmation – the bucket has a large hole in the bottom and leaks faster than it is filled. 

“Once we know how much He loves us, there’s just nothing else.”

This quote. It just keeps bouncing around the walls of my head, inviting me to something more.  I keep fighting this battle.  I keep knowing in my head that God’s love has to be enough, yet still in my heart I am searching for love and acceptance in other places.

“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love!”  Every time I sing that I am reminded…I’m a runaway.  We all are.  My running away might look really different than others – it’s a ‘ride my bike down the street to where I can still see my house’ kind of running away.  But I still hold my heart in my hands and offer it out to other people in hopes that they can “take it and seal it” and keep it safe. 

I’m trying to learn that quote for myself.  Trying to live out of that place.  I want to give God my runaway heart and my search for value because He is the repairer and fulfiller of all those things.  I am trying to daily remember that He knows my name, knows my heart, sees me, cares for me, and loves me despite my runaway tendencies. 

“Once we know how much He loves us, there’s just nothing else.”

Ask Him how much He loves you.  Ask Him to show you.  He will.  He is a God that shows up, especially when we seek Him.

“You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13)

* The book I am reading is Beautiful Battlefields by Bo Stern (:

Roots and Fruits

This guest post is from the one and only Mama Garrett.  What can I even say to describe her? She always makes me laugh, gives me constant guidance, and encourages me when I give up on myself.  She is the most talented teacher in the world, no contest. She is also an insanely amazing singer, gardener (despite what she might say about herself), pianist, wife, and of course, Mom.  I hope you soak up these words of wisdom - her knack for finding spiritual analogies in the everyday of life is an absolute blessing. 

Over 14 years ago our family made a move from Portland, Oregon to a smaller city about three hours east – Bend. If you know anything about Oregon you know that Portland is considered “the Valley” and once you cross the mountains you find yourself in the drier part of the state referred to as Central Oregon, or the “High Desert.” The Valley is lush, green (yes, and rainy) full of vegetation and life! Deserts…well, they are dry, brown, sparse… and for me this picture describes well the ensuing spiritual journey. It didn’t take long for me to realize just how very difficult this transition was going to be. I quickly claimed Isaiah 58:11, “The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land” called Bend, Oregon.

I love flowers, and color, and gardens… I’m not really a gardener, wish I was, but I have learned many spiritual lessons from my attempts to garden here in the “High Desert.”

First lesson, seeds are planted in the deep darkness of the soil. Sometimes the soil is dry and rocky, and one questions if a plant can even survive this place. The darkness can feel lonely and isolated. Scribbled in fading pencil, sitting next to Psalm 37 I wrote “Help me trust your heart even when I can’t see your hand.”  March, 2001. During my time in the deep dark soil, I discovered that a new Bend elementary school was slated to open in 2004. I can’t explain the feeling except to call it a glimpse of hope. The little seed begins to swell, feeding on this hope. 

Lesson two: seeds need water and nourishment to grow. As a seed begins to grow into a plant, a root system develops. These roots supply nourishment and enable the growth of the plant. They will ultimately determine the influence of this plant. I am thankful that circumstances drove me to seek a deeper knowledge of the Word for instruction, nourishment, and encouragement for my weary soul.

And water…Scripture calls us to ‘Come to the waters, for Jesus is the Living Water.’ Living in a dry desert climate has given me a greater appreciation for water. I can say with the Psalmist, “My soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” (Psalm 63:1) And “Just as the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God.” (Psalm 42:1-2.) This same visceral longing for God led me to still waters. Hallelujah! He provides streams in the desert ~ Drink!

During this time of growing, I entered a Masters of Teaching program. (Side note – this was a miracle: first cohort program ever in Central Oregon, pretty sure God planned it just for me!)

Lesson Three: Pruning is necessary for growth (John 15,) pulling weeds and digging up bitter roots (Hebrews 12:15) keeps the plant pure and healthy. This is hard work and not comfortable. It would be great if obeying and following God meant life was smooth and easy, but we know that in this life we will have trials and suffering. My journey was full of discouragement, fears, failures (weeds) as well as bad attitudes, self-pity, discontentment, envy (bitter roots.) Yet Romans 5 tells us to ‘rejoice in our sufferings (trials and training) because we know it produces perseverance and patience, which produces character, and the end result is hope. And hope does not disappoint.’ Say that again, Hope does not disappoint!

At one point along my journey someone said to me, “You think you are going to get a teaching job with Bend LaPine? Don’t you know that there are over 500 applicants for every single job?” Answer: well, I really didn’t know that fun fact. Truthfully, I know that God kept that from me. Fast forward the tape, I did get a job at Ensworth Elementary School, the very school I had read about well over a decade ago. And I know wholeheartedly that it was God, it was all Him. Ephesians 2:10 sums it up best. “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” He is the Master Gardener, not me. This plant eventually did bloom, where He planted it, and for reasons He had planned before the beginning of time!

Footnote: The plant, now being fully alive, has the opportunity to bring beauty, shade, fruit etc. to the world around it. How am I blessing those in my sphere of influence? The plant will receive sunshine (encouragement) as well as storms, rain, and wind (trials.) How am I standing? My hope and constant prayer is that I am firmly planted just like Paul describes in Colossians 2:6-7, “that you continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.”

The Reality of Therefore

We had some time in solitude yesterday at my internship, and were told to think about the question, “How has the gospel been good news to you recently?”  As I wrote, I started using sentences connected by the word therefore.  It is one of those words that you know, obviously, but we don’t really think about all that it means.  Its definition is consequently or for that reason.  It is kind of like an equation; this happened, therefore, this is true.

So how is the gospel good news? This is what I wrote:

I am unworthy of love, selfish and broken, yet You redeem me. 

You choose to love me because I belong to You.

You made me, therefore I have worth.

You fashioned me, therefore I am capable of being unbroken (put back together).

You created me, therefore I have Your Image breathed into me.

You saved me, therefore I am worth saving.

You sacrificed (a lot) for me, therefore I am worth a lot to You.

You have given me life and the opportunity for life abundant – therefore fullness of life and JOY are possible and achievable, in You.

All of that is good news.

If therefore means “that being the case”, we can figure out so much about ourselves based on what comes before the therefore.  What we know as fact, as objective truth, can logically be followed to what must be true.  Jesus sacrificed His life for us, He bled and died and rose again for us – that is truth.  We know that.  And therefore, because that is true, it means that we are saved. It means we are worthy of His saving.  It clearly shows that He actually does love us because why would He die for people He didn’t want to love or save?

What would happen if we lived in the resulting truth that comes after the therefore? If we truly believed in what came first, and lived out what consequently had to come after? I think we would start to see ourselves rightly.  I think we would start to see God rightly.  Maybe we wouldn’t doubt truths like His love or our salvation.

I want to understand the weight of this. I want to live after the therefore. I want the gospel to mean something deeper to me.

Not sure any of that will make sense to anyone else, but those are my thoughts and I’m sticking to them. (:

Life in Limbo

This post is by one of my favorite people in the entire world, by a long shot. We have walked an amazing journey together, searching for JOY and gratitude all over the world. She helps me dream, and bring these dreams to reality. This blog, and I as a person, would be way less cool without her. She now has a full-time job teaching high school math (which you will learn is a pretty great answer to prayer!) and here you get to read Caitlin's honest heart-thougths about transition and change.

I’m not the sort of person who doesn’t have a plan, and I’m definitely not the kind of person who says, “well, I guess we will just see what happens.”  As much as I like some spontaneity in life, my much more logical side says you need a plan and steps to follow - that’s what will make you successful. 

But, in May 2013 I was a girl without a plan. If you would have asked me what I was going to do in the fall I would have said any of the following phrases…”oh I don’t know I’m still figuring it out”  “well, I think I’m going to move home and maybe look for a job”  “I can’t teach in Colorado yet because of paperwork so I’ve got to get all that figured out”  “I’m still waiting for God to give me guidance”  And you know what? For the most part those would have been partial truths I was telling myself and others.  In reality I was terrified.  I was a girl without a job, and not a whole lot of desire to have one either.  I had a college degree and no idea what to do with it.  Sure I looked at a lot of jobs and said, “well I could apply for that but I’m probably not qualified, and that application is too much work, and I’m afraid of rejection.”  After working for the summer in Appalachia I packed up some of my life and moved back in with my parents.  I continued to avoid all questions of life plans and decided to just find some things I might enjoy doing.

In November I took a mini vacation to Michigan. While I was on the plane a nice gentleman sitting next to me asked, “so what do you do?”  I tried to not scare him or anyone around me with my deer in the headlights look as I thought to myself, how can I possibly answer his question?  No longer could I say I’m a college student, or I’m in band, or I do this and that.  My new identity was no longer wrapped up in what campus activities I was a part of or what I was studying. 

Reaction: Yikes. Who am I? 

I was pretty sure he didn’t really care to hear about the multitude of jobs I was dabbling in (babysitting, tutoring, toy store working, dog sitting).  And I was even more sure he wasn’t looking for a not so quick journey into my life story of who I am as a person. 

Realization:  I don’t really know who I am. 

If you think that in the next few paragraphs we will wrap this up nice and neat with a bow feel free to stop reading; I still don’t have a very solid answer to this question and I’m not really sure I ever will.

In this year of transition and messiness I experienced the thrill of the unknown.  If I hadn’t taken time to embrace my lack of plan I would have missed a lot of opportunities. 

I wouldn’t have watched sweet babies grow into toddlers bursting with personality and curiosity.

I wouldn’t have learned the names of all 32 teams in the NFL.

I wouldn’t have been a part of a sweet family’s journey to the Super Bowl.

I wouldn’t be able to wrap presents with curly bows in under 3 minutes.

I wouldn’t have rediscovered the beauty of Colorado.

I wouldn’t have spontaneously taken a trip across the country to see old friends.

I wouldn’t have shared my love of Colorado with many friends.

I wouldn’t have taken a substitute job I wasn’t confident about.

I also wouldn’t have experienced loneliness, challenges, joy, and so much more as I lived in limbo.  One of the biggest realizations I found myself coming to was that even with all of those jobs I was trying and experiences I was having, they still couldn’t really explain my identity.  In fact for the most part they were just things about me or things that I enjoyed doing.  But so often I find myself trying to fit into a mold of an identity that the world has created.  I think that the world has a mold for Christians and College graduates but I never quite live up to those expectations.  I constantly debate with myself if what I’m doing is good enough or if I’m really following God’s plan for my life. 

As I reflect on the last year I find myself smiling and my heart happy for the relationships I’ve strengthened and the chance to live life not following an ever growing to do list.  As I fly home from Michigan today I think to myself that when the nice man on the plane asks what I do I can smile and say, “oh I teach high school math.”  But I almost cringe at the fact that it puts a label on me.  I’d like to say instead I’m a joy-seeker and a lover of adventure, and most importantly a sweet, unique daughter of God just doing her best to discover what it means to live this messy life.