I watch life lived in story and listen intently to every story spoken . . . hoping, desperately hoping that I'll find myself in your story, and you'll offer me the ending or a character I can slip into, zip myself up, and find my way around.
Can I find my identity in you?
In your passion or your convictions or your love story? Will you, a stranger or a friend or anyone really, will you authenticate who I am? Actually, if you could just show me who I am, I'd take that too.
The twenties leave me spinning, stuck always in coarse webs that pull tighter each time I yank. Who am I? A conservative, Mennonite country girl? Or a college student that finds her place in a liberal city?
And as I sit at a church softball game today, I wondered if God reminded me of something so simple . . .
Danae, your story is absolutely unique. I've designed you with colors never arranged in this way before. You are a new story . . . and no, dear one. There is nothing new under this burning sun. There is common truth that envelops you that you will hear of in others' stories, but My love, there is a uniqueness about the way you will follow me that will not be told in others' stories.
I have not made you to be an uber conservative Mennonite. You will never fit completely into that world, even though you sometimes so desperately want to belong there. You belong in Me.
I have not made you a Katie Davis or a Mother Teresa. Don't strive to be hero or savior, danae. Just strive to follow and love Me.
I have made you into danae, and I will show you what it means to follow Me here in the dusty roads of walking out My story in you. I love you, danae. I'm so glad I created you. Keep following me. I love you. Don't be so worried about your story. Come into Mine, and you will find that you have belonged here all along and that it is perfect for you to be simply Mine.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Help Me: Part 2
. . . continued
I lay still, fallen, two minutes, six, nine.
Until I finally am flooded with enough adrenaline to move.
The arrow puncture isn't life-threatening . . . yet.
I am weak enough to crawl but not strong enough to cry.
So I whisper:
Healer, Healer, You have to come to me.
i can't make it to You this time.
i don't feel worth healing.
i have nothing to give You but a used-up, rebellious heart.
but i've heard You are good and kind and patient.
please, please hurry.
And suddenly, my senses snap, highly sensitive,
And I hear new words as I realize there are arrows whizzing
The opposite way . . . into enemy territory.
I hear them, hear them sing.
YHWH is worthy and compassionate and kind.
He binds up the brokenhearted and heals their wounds.
He washes the sinners until they're whiter than snow.
He is love and loves you, danae.
He will not forsake you. He is faithful to you always.
I tripped into a battlefield unaware.
But not alone.
This is war,
And He is ready.
You come, O YHWH, when I am least deserving,
To remind me that Grace is that which
Grabs me under my arms and lifts me up,
That reminds me when I feel like I should have been
Better and Smarter than "that,"
That it's not about that at all,
But instead, that You are better than I could ever imagine.
Please bring me through these battles, Jesus.
Give me the energy to reach for Your truth,
To sing it always.
To let every evil arrow ricochet off the shield of faith,
Of trust in You.
You heal me in ways I don't expect.
I'm not out of danger yet.
Please train me for this war.
It is real.
You are ready.
You will win.
And somehow, I will find the strength in You
To run to You
Instead of shamefully running away.
i am on Your side.
No turning back.
I lay still, fallen, two minutes, six, nine.
Until I finally am flooded with enough adrenaline to move.
The arrow puncture isn't life-threatening . . . yet.
I am weak enough to crawl but not strong enough to cry.
So I whisper:
Healer, Healer, You have to come to me.
i can't make it to You this time.
i don't feel worth healing.
i have nothing to give You but a used-up, rebellious heart.
but i've heard You are good and kind and patient.
please, please hurry.
And suddenly, my senses snap, highly sensitive,
And I hear new words as I realize there are arrows whizzing
The opposite way . . . into enemy territory.
I hear them, hear them sing.
YHWH is worthy and compassionate and kind.
He binds up the brokenhearted and heals their wounds.
He washes the sinners until they're whiter than snow.
He is love and loves you, danae.
He will not forsake you. He is faithful to you always.
I tripped into a battlefield unaware.
But not alone.
This is war,
And He is ready.
You come, O YHWH, when I am least deserving,
To remind me that Grace is that which
Grabs me under my arms and lifts me up,
That reminds me when I feel like I should have been
Better and Smarter than "that,"
That it's not about that at all,
But instead, that You are better than I could ever imagine.
Please bring me through these battles, Jesus.
Give me the energy to reach for Your truth,
To sing it always.
To let every evil arrow ricochet off the shield of faith,
Of trust in You.
You heal me in ways I don't expect.
I'm not out of danger yet.
Please train me for this war.
It is real.
You are ready.
You will win.
And somehow, I will find the strength in You
To run to You
Instead of shamefully running away.
i am on Your side.
No turning back.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Help Me: Part 1
Wounded.
I must have tripped into a battle ground unsuspecting.
All I know is the child's play of toy soldiers, but this?
This is war.
And I'm not ready.
The arrows fly . . . whizzing a foot away from my ear drums,
Making them rattle, making my heart beat.
Faster. Faster. Faster.
And the whiz of the arrows makes words and sentences.
Another one flies by,
And as it cuts through wind, it cuts out words, speaking:
danae, danae, you're not a warrior.
you're a coward, a reject.
your life doesn't look like theirs.
it's a shards pile of rebellious brokenness.
who do you think you are?
you don't even know what it's like to follow Jesus.
you've forgotten Him, remember?
you're not even worth wounding in this battle.
black sheep.
you'll never find a home.
you definitely don't belong here.
you'll fail and disappoint everyone.
just get out of the way.
your life's a joke.
forget it.
oh, i see.
now you're playing victim.
wow.
stoop that low, huh?
it's all your fault anyways, remember?
another arrow, another arrow, another arrow.
closer. nearer. contiguous.
STRUCK.
silence.
To be continued.
I must have tripped into a battle ground unsuspecting.
All I know is the child's play of toy soldiers, but this?
This is war.
And I'm not ready.
The arrows fly . . . whizzing a foot away from my ear drums,
Making them rattle, making my heart beat.
Faster. Faster. Faster.
And the whiz of the arrows makes words and sentences.
Another one flies by,
And as it cuts through wind, it cuts out words, speaking:
danae, danae, you're not a warrior.
you're a coward, a reject.
your life doesn't look like theirs.
it's a shards pile of rebellious brokenness.
who do you think you are?
you don't even know what it's like to follow Jesus.
you've forgotten Him, remember?
you're not even worth wounding in this battle.
black sheep.
you'll never find a home.
you definitely don't belong here.
you'll fail and disappoint everyone.
just get out of the way.
your life's a joke.
forget it.
oh, i see.
now you're playing victim.
wow.
stoop that low, huh?
it's all your fault anyways, remember?
another arrow, another arrow, another arrow.
closer. nearer. contiguous.
STRUCK.
silence.
To be continued.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Reflecting on the Earlier Days: Leaving Home
I must have written this right before I headed off to my freshman year of Multnomah. It's sprawled across a piece of notebook paper:
the clock ticks
as if each tick tightens
my stomach
tighter.
You say "Don't Worry"
i'm too invincible to cry for help
And too normal not to
be nervous.
to leave all.
who do i be away?
it's all new; or will the past
follow and destroy
what could have been.
how do i say no to falling stars
i may have ignited?
the burning brilliance
must die and me
die.
And sometimes it seems
only in Fairy tales
do dead things
again live.
change my heart.
I had no idea the pain ahead of me nor the healing that would come for the pain behind me. "He makes all things beautiful in His time."
His time is not my time.
Heartache is one of if not the worst types of pain . . .
. . . but He wounds to heal.
. . . and He allows to make us look like His very own.
And someday, those of us who are His will all stand healed. Maybe we'll wear the battle scars, but we'll be healed.
It's coming.
Soon.
the clock ticks
as if each tick tightens
my stomach
tighter.
You say "Don't Worry"
i'm too invincible to cry for help
And too normal not to
be nervous.
to leave all.
who do i be away?
it's all new; or will the past
follow and destroy
what could have been.
how do i say no to falling stars
i may have ignited?
the burning brilliance
must die and me
die.
And sometimes it seems
only in Fairy tales
do dead things
again live.
change my heart.
I had no idea the pain ahead of me nor the healing that would come for the pain behind me. "He makes all things beautiful in His time."
His time is not my time.
Heartache is one of if not the worst types of pain . . .
. . . but He wounds to heal.
. . . and He allows to make us look like His very own.
And someday, those of us who are His will all stand healed. Maybe we'll wear the battle scars, but we'll be healed.
It's coming.
Soon.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
And Even the Dream Ages
More than a decade ago, I was ten-year-old-baby and the world was my black canvas that I wanted to color in love. Sunshine yellow, hope in blues and greens.
I was a dreamer.
And Sara Beth Geoghegan's song was my song, . . .
"I'm a dreamer, and a thinker. I analyze everything today.
I'm a feeler and a crier, sometimes I cry 'til there is nothing left."
And Bethany Dillon's song was my song, . . .
"I am a dreamer, take me higher.
Open the sky, and start a fire.
'Cause I believe even if it's just a dream . . . "
And the world was sad, but a tear stained world can be changed and cheered with just a little bit of love.
And I was so confused of those who had grown older and jaded and had lost the dream. So confused by those who stopped loving, who stopped wanting to chase the world in deep, crimson LOVE. LOVE from Jesus.
I was scared. Scared of losing the dream. Scared of becoming the inverted one who forgot the feeling of His love burning in my soul, of becoming the one who got too comfortable and stopped reaching out . . . but only reached in. Scared of becoming just another jaded heart.
And years past. The dream grew, especially as I saw the smiles of those who just needed a little more love to keep going. And I really thought I could do it . . . save the world for Jesus. Change it . . . because if I didn't, who would?
And storms later I grew a little weathered.
And suddenly, the world isn't just looking sad. It's looking dark and evil.
Unsafe.
Evil is quick to cloud out hope. Also, I've been learning just how incapable I am of changing anything and healing anything.
Real love is hard. Harder than I ever imagined because Love, the essence of God, is never to fail; it is to be more consistent and stronger than any pain.
And now, the twenty-one-year-old girl looks at the dream, embodied in a crumpled picture of a little, smiling girl in a summer dress, eyes shining wonder for a dying world. Great evil turns my twenty-one-year-old gaze to that trash can a few steps away to my left . . . and sometimes, evil seems much more real than hope.
But I look back and forth, from the crumpled picture of a girl with Hope in her eyes, to that trash can that promises a jaded life is a life that is more real, that can keep you safe from the aching of this world.
But then, something happens. Jesus comes, and He sits down right next to me on this wooden bench. He comes in softly and gently, and He holds out His hands. "Can I see it?" He says, looking at the picture.
I just nod and hand it to Him.
"I remember that girl. Oh my did I love her. I put joy in her eyes and let her carry a big, colorful dream. I used that little girl to bring about a little more sunshine and love in my dying, painful world."
"Oh Jesus, part of me wants to find that girl again. Part of me wants to live so untouched by the evil of this world, but You didn't even do that. You stepped right into the evil, and I just don't know. I don't know how to run into darkness without losing my Light. I don't know how to live in a way that validates the pain in the world and acknowledges the evil but still hopes and believes that Love is stronger and more real. I'm afraid I'm losing the dream, Jesus."
And He is so gentle.
"Baby girl, do you remember the end of this story?"
"Yes, Jesus. In my head, I know. I know You win and that Light is stronger than darkness and somehow Love will triumph."
"My love, when you were little, I gave you a wide dream. My dream . . . to love the world, but baby girl, I made the dream wide and vague enough by shielding you then from much of the evil of this world.
Now you are older and more grown, and I'm beginning to show you more of the dream by showing you more of My heart, and danae, My heart aches. I've let you feel it . . . just a little, because you're older and more ready now then you were then. I have let you see the places of evil because I'm trying to give you My eyes.
But My love, oh My dear love, along with My eyes, I have given you My Light. And My Light will burn victorious. And you're right, danae. Some evil will never break. Some pimps will die hell-bound, and those runaways who refuse to come Home will find the grave a horrific place, and You don't understand that now. You won't for a long time.
But trust Me with this. My LOVE and My LIGHT are stronger, and the Love I have put in you will change the places I send you. They won't necessarily change them the way you think or wish . . . but there are things you cannot see. Realms you are so unaware of . . . and darkness cannot stand the light.
Your dream is changing, My danae girl. It's becoming more focused and more real. Don't be afraid of it changing; don't trash it. I love you, dear one. I loved you then as that little girl. I love you now as the little girl you still are in My eyes. Follow me. We'll love this world together. It won't be comfortable. It won't be as pretty as you thought at age ten. It will give you scars like it gave me, but I promise I will never leave you in the process. You're not a ten year old anymore, danae, but I have given you an innocence and a child's heart that I have called you to use to love this world with Truth and Grace.
The dream is not the goal. Follow Me, my Love. And I will lead you into Loving, into filling this world with more of My Light."
And tears slide down my cheeks. I slowly nod.
Because He is gentle to handle me when I want to give up.
Because it hurts to love but to be loved makes the hurt bearable and worth it.
Because He takes the picture of me, of the girl I want to go back to . . . the girl who lived innocently, unaware of evil. But yet He takes that picture and holds it near His heart, and He gives me a new picture of a twenty-one year old, and she looks so different, but He still painted Hope in her eyes . . . and she's still smiling.
Because Light will always be greater than darkness.
Always.
I will remain a Lover.
My dreaming may not look like my ten year old dreaming.
But I will remain true to Loving this world because someday Love will be the only One standing.
Because Love really makes a difference because Jesus really makes a difference.
I refuse. Somehow, I refuse to be jaded.
Somehow I refuse to be discouraged by an evil that WILL LOSE in the end.
Somehow I refuse to let darkness cause me to forget the power and brilliance of YHWH's LIGHT.
But only by the power and blood and promise of Jesus Christ.
I write these words so unsure of what this looks like in my life, so afraid of becoming calloused.
So afraid.
So Jesus? Please. Help me to live into these words.
Help me to live into You, into Your promises and Love and Light.
You didn't give up on this world.
Help me not to give up on You. Please forgive me for each time I have when I've believed the lie that things are hopeless.
Please, please forgive me.
Thank You for sitting by me today, for speaking truth and life.
Thank You for giving me one of Your dreams.
I love You.
Yours always,
danae
I was a dreamer.
And Sara Beth Geoghegan's song was my song, . . .
"I'm a dreamer, and a thinker. I analyze everything today.
I'm a feeler and a crier, sometimes I cry 'til there is nothing left."
And Bethany Dillon's song was my song, . . .
"I am a dreamer, take me higher.
Open the sky, and start a fire.
'Cause I believe even if it's just a dream . . . "
And the world was sad, but a tear stained world can be changed and cheered with just a little bit of love.
And I was so confused of those who had grown older and jaded and had lost the dream. So confused by those who stopped loving, who stopped wanting to chase the world in deep, crimson LOVE. LOVE from Jesus.
I was scared. Scared of losing the dream. Scared of becoming the inverted one who forgot the feeling of His love burning in my soul, of becoming the one who got too comfortable and stopped reaching out . . . but only reached in. Scared of becoming just another jaded heart.
And years past. The dream grew, especially as I saw the smiles of those who just needed a little more love to keep going. And I really thought I could do it . . . save the world for Jesus. Change it . . . because if I didn't, who would?
And storms later I grew a little weathered.
And suddenly, the world isn't just looking sad. It's looking dark and evil.
Unsafe.
Evil is quick to cloud out hope. Also, I've been learning just how incapable I am of changing anything and healing anything.
Real love is hard. Harder than I ever imagined because Love, the essence of God, is never to fail; it is to be more consistent and stronger than any pain.
And now, the twenty-one-year-old girl looks at the dream, embodied in a crumpled picture of a little, smiling girl in a summer dress, eyes shining wonder for a dying world. Great evil turns my twenty-one-year-old gaze to that trash can a few steps away to my left . . . and sometimes, evil seems much more real than hope.
But I look back and forth, from the crumpled picture of a girl with Hope in her eyes, to that trash can that promises a jaded life is a life that is more real, that can keep you safe from the aching of this world.
But then, something happens. Jesus comes, and He sits down right next to me on this wooden bench. He comes in softly and gently, and He holds out His hands. "Can I see it?" He says, looking at the picture.
I just nod and hand it to Him.
"I remember that girl. Oh my did I love her. I put joy in her eyes and let her carry a big, colorful dream. I used that little girl to bring about a little more sunshine and love in my dying, painful world."
"Oh Jesus, part of me wants to find that girl again. Part of me wants to live so untouched by the evil of this world, but You didn't even do that. You stepped right into the evil, and I just don't know. I don't know how to run into darkness without losing my Light. I don't know how to live in a way that validates the pain in the world and acknowledges the evil but still hopes and believes that Love is stronger and more real. I'm afraid I'm losing the dream, Jesus."
And He is so gentle.
"Baby girl, do you remember the end of this story?"
"Yes, Jesus. In my head, I know. I know You win and that Light is stronger than darkness and somehow Love will triumph."
"My love, when you were little, I gave you a wide dream. My dream . . . to love the world, but baby girl, I made the dream wide and vague enough by shielding you then from much of the evil of this world.
Now you are older and more grown, and I'm beginning to show you more of the dream by showing you more of My heart, and danae, My heart aches. I've let you feel it . . . just a little, because you're older and more ready now then you were then. I have let you see the places of evil because I'm trying to give you My eyes.
But My love, oh My dear love, along with My eyes, I have given you My Light. And My Light will burn victorious. And you're right, danae. Some evil will never break. Some pimps will die hell-bound, and those runaways who refuse to come Home will find the grave a horrific place, and You don't understand that now. You won't for a long time.
But trust Me with this. My LOVE and My LIGHT are stronger, and the Love I have put in you will change the places I send you. They won't necessarily change them the way you think or wish . . . but there are things you cannot see. Realms you are so unaware of . . . and darkness cannot stand the light.
Your dream is changing, My danae girl. It's becoming more focused and more real. Don't be afraid of it changing; don't trash it. I love you, dear one. I loved you then as that little girl. I love you now as the little girl you still are in My eyes. Follow me. We'll love this world together. It won't be comfortable. It won't be as pretty as you thought at age ten. It will give you scars like it gave me, but I promise I will never leave you in the process. You're not a ten year old anymore, danae, but I have given you an innocence and a child's heart that I have called you to use to love this world with Truth and Grace.
The dream is not the goal. Follow Me, my Love. And I will lead you into Loving, into filling this world with more of My Light."
And tears slide down my cheeks. I slowly nod.
Because He is gentle to handle me when I want to give up.
Because it hurts to love but to be loved makes the hurt bearable and worth it.
Because He takes the picture of me, of the girl I want to go back to . . . the girl who lived innocently, unaware of evil. But yet He takes that picture and holds it near His heart, and He gives me a new picture of a twenty-one year old, and she looks so different, but He still painted Hope in her eyes . . . and she's still smiling.
Because Light will always be greater than darkness.
Always.
I will remain a Lover.
My dreaming may not look like my ten year old dreaming.
But I will remain true to Loving this world because someday Love will be the only One standing.
Because Love really makes a difference because Jesus really makes a difference.
I refuse. Somehow, I refuse to be jaded.
Somehow I refuse to be discouraged by an evil that WILL LOSE in the end.
Somehow I refuse to let darkness cause me to forget the power and brilliance of YHWH's LIGHT.
But only by the power and blood and promise of Jesus Christ.
I write these words so unsure of what this looks like in my life, so afraid of becoming calloused.
So afraid.
So Jesus? Please. Help me to live into these words.
Help me to live into You, into Your promises and Love and Light.
You didn't give up on this world.
Help me not to give up on You. Please forgive me for each time I have when I've believed the lie that things are hopeless.
Please, please forgive me.
Thank You for sitting by me today, for speaking truth and life.
Thank You for giving me one of Your dreams.
I love You.
Yours always,
danae
Monday, February 18, 2013
t.w.e.n.t.y{ONE}
I'm on the brink of a new year, a new age.
t.w.e.n.t.y{o.n.e}
And I think I'm a little more lost than I was a year ago stepping in to twenty.
I'm a little more uncertain of who I am or what YHWH's doing.
But I bless Jesus for this vantage point . . . because even though I'm in an uncomfortable place, my eyes have no where else to look besides up, and this is precious. :)
Jesus?
Thank You so much for walking with me through a year of adventure. There was pain and more pain and yet there was extreme joy stuffed in the open spaces.
Thank You for what You're teaching me now about letting go of control and about repentance.
Thank You for putting me in places where I've recognized a little more clearly just how needy I am for You. A Radiator Shop. Broken Relationships. Too Much on My Plate. etc etc
Thank You for letting me feel the THRILL of being loved by You. For the gift of an incredible mentor. For feeling so excited about being alive in September and October especially.
Thank You for the people You've let me get to know in deeper ways, for all the laughter, the abundance of tears. Thank You that these are evidences that You really do work in my life too. I really need You.
I have no idea what You have for me as a twenty-one year old, but God?
I'm Yours.
Please do whatever You want in me and with me. Would You please teach me what it means to follow You humbly? To realize that I am not healer? Will You teach me to give of myself in relationships instead of simply taking? Will You teach me to continually confess and repent?
Please teach me how to love You?
I praise You, God. I thank You for each of these twenty-one years. For the incredible milestones and memories. Oh man, Jesus, You have given me a lot. I will be held accountable for it, won't I? Please help me to live well? To live my life with open hands, open heart?
I don't know much, Jesus. You know that. I have this fragile heart though. It's Yours. Thank You for twenty-one years of faithfulness to me. You have been my sweetest Treasure.
I love You, Father.
In Jesus' name,
amen.
Monday, February 11, 2013
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.
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.
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