Following Jesus, Not Following Needs

I was soooo tired. Soul, Body, Mind, Spirit. Just tired.

I was sitting by myself, eating dinner. There were few in the cafeteria with it being so late, and I was just finishing up when one of my brothers walked by and said, "Hello." He asked me how I was doing, and we started talking.

And I talked about how I was so tired, and I didn't know how to tell the difference between being tired because I'm doing good things {and the tiredness is normal, simply a sacrifice} versus being tired because I'm doing too many things that the LORD never meant me to do.

And my brother said something that I haven't been able to shake the past few days.

Some people follow the need, but we're not called to do that. We just need to be doing what Jesus has called us to do.

Heart Pierced.

And this deep question confronted my heart.

danae? are you following needs or are you following Jesus?

{Ouch}

Y'all, I get so distracted by the best of things. Needs overwhelm me. They're everywhere, and it doesn't seem like they're being met. People need to be heard and loved and encouraged. People need to be fed and held and given a warm place to stay. People need to be rescued and healed and protected.

My city is weeping without realizing it.

My fellow-warriors here at college, many of them are crying as well . . . so discouraged and tired and hurting. Some are falling through the cracks.

Neon-signs everywhere: NEED! NEED! NEED!

And I get distracted.

And because sometimes I get haughty and in my pride, I see these needs not being met and think that means nobody's doing anything, but I can! I can do something!

So I hop in to be the "good guy," and . . .

i forget Jesus.

My mission becomes about fulfilling needs, about being savior.

instead of loving Jesus and seeking what He wants.

And I've thought through this because I've heard it said that doing God's Will is meeting the needs around us, and in a sense, I think there's huge truth to that.

1 John 3:16-18 says,

"Bu this we know love, that He laid down His life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers.
But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in Him? 
Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth."

Love produces ACTION. Love sees need and reaches out.

But the proof that we're really loving people isn't demonstrated in our need-meeting . . .

{If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love . . . 
1 Cor 13:3a }

. . . but in whether or not we love God and obey Him.

{By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey His commandments. 1 John 5:2}

The focus is on GOD.

Not needs.

And I couldn't help thinking of Jesus' words in Matthew 9:37-38.

Then He said to His disciples, "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest field." {NIV}

And I wonder. I can't harvest the whole field . . . and Jesus doesn't seem to be expecting His disciples to either. He doesn't tell them to meet all the needs of the harvest. He tells them to pray, that the LORD would send out more to meet the need of the plentiful harvest.

So as I reflect on this, I'm realizing that I can easily miss Jesus in doing good things. 

Meeting needs is not equated with following Jesus.

Oh Jesus, I want to seek YOU. I want to be available, to let You meet any need through me that You desire. 

I want to display my love for others by loving You and obeying You {not the other way around}.

And I will pray that You will send people to meet the needs that I see, always willing to be the one you send if that's a need You'd like to meet through me (I'd be so happy to do that) but realizing that You might have someone else in mind to meet that need or You may be working on that individual's life in such a way that the need shouldn't be met right away.

I'm here to follow You. To let You have control. Please forgive me for being distracted, for trying to take over Your role in busying myself with meeting needs. I'm glad You're God, and I'm not. I'll try to act more like Your daughter, like Your servant. I'm so glad to be Yours. I love You. Thank You for showing me these things, for reminding me of my priorities. You are my first Love, my King. I will follow You.

In Jesus' name,
amen.

Your Love Is River

Letters bounce in my fingers and tap through my fingertips, aching to come out somewhere, anywhere, and a blank computer canvas seems to be the perfect place.

Some people stay away from blogs because they don't want their personal diaries out in the world, there to be analyzed by an audience of strangers, friends, and those only held at arms length who clomp around the internet. 

Me?

Well, I guess I never intended this to be a place of raw emotion. It's more the chance to take a whirl at the brush and see if any beauty can come from the pain and joys and peace and brokenness of the everyday. 

So I type and type and type and try to bring redemption of some sort. 

But the Word whispers in my ear . . . I am the Redeemer, my Love. I am the Author of your story and as often as you try to write and rewrite and reorganize, . . . I am the only One who will make the ending sweet. Let go. 

I am no Redeemer. Not like my Jesus, but I am a witness to His redemption. 

And I beg to see it.

I beg to see it in the life of the family who's mother committed suicide on Friday.

I beg to see it in the life of a friend whose heart is broken, just when he was beginning to learn to be loved again.

I beg to see it in the life of the couple trying to figure out where their relationship goes from here . . . to move forward or to end? All for Jesus . . . through pain or joy. I pray for peace for them.

I beg to see it in the girl who has been running and running from Jesus. She sees Him trying to grab her attention again. Tragedy and tragedy comes, and He desires her HEART. But she's not quite ready to let go.

And Jesus? I beg to see it in me. The broken lover . . . the broken do-er and mover who can't seem to just be still in Your home. I beg to see it in my broken heart and my broken motives and motions and relationships. In my broken, cracked dreams. I beg to see it in my past decisions and actions and failures. I cannot redeem myself. 

We cannot redeem ourselves. Oh sweet friend, how often we try. We beat ourselves up, hoping we can bring redemption, work things out in the world so the balances are even. We try to over-correct our mistakes. We are not our redeemers.

But I know One who is very good at what He does.

Even when we can't see Him working.

He's beginning to show me His fingers again.

Moment by moment.

In different shadows and wells, I cup His love to my mouth and try to drink. I look at the sky when the birds soar across it and try to drink. I read the words that just fit and try to drink. I find His smile in the smile of a gentle heart and try to drink. 

And His love is our life, and His love, when we let it come and fill the dry corners, will bring a redemption of us. Because only love can change the dry, cracked, broken into something that can move and breathe and sing again. :)

Come, Redeemer. We will drink deeply of Your love and the hope found in hidden corners. Only You can redeem me. 

Your Thoughts

I'm a thinker.

Self-proclaimed self-analyzer.

I have thought myself through and through, trying to figure out who I am and where I stand and why I do what I do and think what I think. I have recently tried to figure myself out through every angle, every perspective, . . . except for His.

So in my fallible, messy heart, I tried to imagine what His words would be to me {what He thinks of me} because I'm so desperately longing for His response. What would His words be to you, friend? I wonder if they might sound similar.

Maybe something like this?

danae . . . oh danae, my Love.

You think I'm so far away, that I'm at work in others' lives, that you are too far beyond my reach. You think of yourself as the hard-hearted pharisee yet you deeply desire freedom from this. Oh my Love, I know. This is not how I see you. I see you as daughter. And you, my dearly loved child, I've seen you. I've seen your tears and your unanswered questions, and I understand why you've responded to life the way you have lately. I understand. I see. I know. Come to me. Just come. I still want you.

I know. I knew this all before it would happen. I allowed you to press forward into a relationship that I knew would break your heart, and I knew. I knew you would reach a moment of intense weakness, but I have leashed satan. He can go so far and no further. He has lied to you, danae, over and over, and I knew he would. I knew he would come at you when you were weak and down, but I promise I have never left you, and I have defended you, and I need you to come back to me. I need you to remember that I am Love, danae. I am Holiness and Mercy, and you can only find your peace in me. Come. Come to me. I know where the green pastures are and the quiet streams. I know. I will take you there. I will not leave you when the shadows of death rise. I will not forsake you. I have called you by name; You are mine, and I will not lose you because the Father has given you to Me. You are in my hands. I will pluck your feet from the net. Fear not, my love. Fear not.

You were not wrong when you called me gentle and kind. I will call you higher, and I will push you farther than you've ever dreamed, but I promise, I know how to grow you. I have grown thousands before you, and I have loved thousands, and we will get where we are going . . . together. Come, my love. Follow Me.

Sometimes I Need to be Reminded . . .

. . . that He does miraculous things with our lives, that He absolutely changes us. That HE is the Changer and Redeemer and Healer.

So encouraged, almost to tears, as I watched these videos. The LORD is remarkable, and it gives me HOPE that He will continue to work in me.

Be blessed, my friend.









Let it be known that we as God's kids are far from perfect. We have hurt each other and many others, and Jesus is still working on us. We are the products and the becomings of His grace. What we are becoming is something we could never dream of . . . praise Jesus.

Twenty-Thirteen

Hello twenty-thirteen.

I walked into you as a child just awakened from a deep sleep, and you were the light I wiped from my eyes. I wasn't sure I wanted to face you. I was too fragile. You were too brilliant and everything about you so uncertain, your light too unfocused.

But I took a couple small steps, fragile, cautious, hugging on to all I knew as comfort and familiar.

I walked into you, and now I'm nineteen steps in.

Nineteen miraculous steps in.

I am much safer than I've felt. I've been comforted, and while sometimes {often}, healing is a long, deep process, it has been coming.

I prayed for Brokenness in October.

I even warned one of my friends, told him he might want to keep his distance from me because it would be possible that everything would cave in my life in a while. I'm not even sure I knew what I was saying, but there was a little truth in that. :)

Not everything caved.

But some things did.

... so i entered twenty-thirteen a little broken ...

And I had to remember how to breathe again.

Questioning everything.

Feeling everything.

Feeling nothing . . . from Jesus.

And there is mystery in brokenness, in the way that it sends us spinning and is never quite as neat as we may hope it is.

But what precious piece of its "magic", that it is the perfect heart-condition for YHWH to work more mystery . . . of planting and uprooting, of confronting me and my false ideas of who He is and who i am.

Well . . . this can happen in brokenness.

This is what I want to happen.

This new year marks a new season.

But I won't forget what's been behind. I sure don't want to do that . . . I have left one of the most beautiful seasons in my life thus far. I have let go of precious things, and I grieve that. My desire is gratitude, to be thankful and to carry the gratitude and the many good memories forward into this brand new season. This season of brokenness and emptiness.

Jesus still feels far away more often than not these past few days, but tonight I want to praise Him for that because it's easy to praise YHWH when my feelings align with what I know, but when my feelings are sprawling and spinning and everything chaos, this is when I can prove to YHWH and myself that I KNOW beyond a doubt that He is GOD, regardless of my heart. I can prove that I do  trust Him and will live that trust.

I'm a mess, y'all! What a mess.

But WHAT A SAVIOR!!!!

So twenty-thirteen? I know I wasn't too sure about you, but I'm starting to get a little more excited for all the possibilities and unknowns you're hiding because YHWH is up to something I cannot see. And He is TRUSTWORTHY and FAITHFUL and CREATIVE and SLOW TO ANGER. He is GOOD.

I'm with You, Jesus. :) Please make me real and genuine and submissive. I am not who I should be, not who I want to be, and not who I will be, but {okay, okay ;)} it's time for me to stop trying to direct our relationship and my growth. You're perfectly capable. :) Thank You for being a Leader and a Lover. :) I will follow You.

Twenty Twelve. One. Last. Farewell.

"But I also pray that I will praise Him when the pain comes back. When things break and things aren't easy.

Teach me, Jesus, please teach me to trust You. To give You my expectations of how You should use pain in my life. I want to know in my soul and trust that You know exactly how much I can take. You won't give me an ounce more. What a gentle God. Alleluia."

I wrote those words this summer in a blog post and tucked it away for a day like today when the pain is back. I am so glad that YHWH is still on the throne on days like today, that He still loves me very much, that some things never change. He is very gentle and compassionate.

Looking back, 2012 has been a wild year. 

Got in my first mini-wreck.
Found a new church that I LOVE.
Started helping in a new ministry. WHICH I ALSO LOVE.
Rode the Max. By Myself. Probably Stupid. But I met beautiful people, hungering for truth and love and Jesus.
Became a junior in college.
Was tested for Lupus and then told it's just eczema after meeting with several doctors.
Worked at a Radiator Shop the whole summer. Jesus met me. Changed me. Loved me.
Went to Iowa for a family reunion, went tubing, etc.
Became good, good friends with a man who I LOVE deeply. That season is ending, and I hurt very much, but I'm trying to cherish every memory. No regrets.

And I learned a few things. Or was taught a few things.

I learned that I can't put expectations on pain, on how long it should last for God to still be good (He is good, and He determines what we need. He is gentle too.).
I've learned the power of this verse: "We love because He first loved us." We must know His love in order to love.
I've learned that He is the God of encouragement and endurance. YHWH longs to encourage His children and calls for us to run farther and deeper, to keep going when times get hard, to work things out with each other. He is cheering for us.
I've learned a little more the power of God's grace and what it can do to someone who longs to give their life over to the LORD. Beauty.
I learned that God wants to be known as He relates to His people, "Slow to anger, merciful, gracious, abounding in love, . . . " etc. 
I've learned again that God is trustworthy and that He answers wild prayers.
I've learned the importance of "embracing the lonely" and that I have to be fully dependent on Jesus.
I've learned that there are some things we will never understand nor have good answers for . . . but the LORD can carry our unanswered questions. He is strong enough.
I've learned that laughter really is good for the soul. And so are tears. 


Dear dear Father,

This year was hard. You know. I struggled with You so much, especially the first half of the year, not understanding You, not understanding where You were at and what I was feeling and why I was feeling what I was feeling. 

And then You sat me down by a lake in a Sweet Home summer and taught me about Your compassion through Isaiah.

And You revived my soul, and You let me be YOURS. Really YOURS. I knew I was loved by You. 

And I thank You for all the precious gifts of this year.

For some of the best friends a girl could ask for. <3>
For good memories and crazy adventures and lots of encouraging texts.
For all the tears and the tough places and for those You sent to keep me going through them.

Thank You for speaking to me and for sending me incredible opportunities and beautiful people. Thank You for putting Yourself in me. God-in-me. Holy Spirit. 
Thank You for nestling me into a church and surrounding me with people who care. This may be only for a season, who knows, but I am so grateful for it!

You know my heart, Jesus. You know it's not feeling very good today, but Your love will outlive my pain. We are yours.

I have no idea what a new year holds. It's kinda terrifying, Jesus. 

But as long as You go with me, I'm ready. 

I love You very much. Thank You for loving me. 
In the Name of JESUS,
Amen.

Trusting. Completely.

It's finals week! And you know what that means: BLOGGING! ;)

It's time for a study break, even though it's 12:33am and more studying is awaiting me. :)

I've been thinking a little about trust lately. Trusting the LORD.

I had a lovely date with one of my gal-friends last week, and we were talking about our futures and trusting Jesus, and it struck me.

When we trust Jesus only part-way, the future is TERRIFYING!

Only partial trust is practically no-trust.

Imagine.

You're in an old, creaky building. The slabs of hardwood floor are dusty, and you're sincerely worried that you'll fall through the floorboards. You're confident in some of the rooms of the house and some of the pieces of the floor. Some of the floorboards seem sturdy, especially in some rooms of the house. But in other rooms, you're not so confident. There is always that fear that this one floorboard you step on will be the one floorboard that caves in. Partial trust is terrifying.

And by not trusting it all, you're not really trusting that floor.

You're labeling it inadequate, faulty.

At least in parts.

But if part of it is untrustworthy, how can it be considered trustworthy?

Uh . . . shoot.

When I only trust Jesus partially and yet partially distrust Him, I'm saying He's faulty. He is not completely reliable.

But, I picture a little child, completely trusting her father as her dad leads her around the hardware store and then near the playground in the park. The child is not afraid of anything because she fully trusts in her dad. She doesn't think of doing anything else.

Full trust means full freedom . . . no fear.

And as I stand in the place of needing to trust Jesus with things dear to my heart and with an unknown, unclear future, I am asked to embrace a full faith that trusts. Completely.

That trusts that YHWH is all He says He is. He is trustworthy. He is reliable. He wants good for us (and only He knows what that looks like). He is on our side. He loves us. Oh how He loves us. :)

So come what may, Jesus? I trust You. Fully. I have no reason to fear. You have proven again and again that You are trustworthy, that I can lean into You and be led by You, and You will lead me by those green pastures and quiet streams.

So I'll let go.

You are in complete control.

Thank You. :)

*Note, it is so much easier to say this than to live it. Help me, LORD? I need You.*