Day 360

I watched the changing colors of the morning's sunrise.  The light blue mingled with the fading orange, and a cool breeze met my cheek.

As I admired the sky sparsely peppered with feathered clouds, sadness plucked at my heart and thankfulness lapped at its hinges.

A week from today my one year challenge will be over.  This chapter will come to an end, leaving another to begin.

This portion of my life is a difficult one.  Probably the most difficult of all my years.  My father's ailing health.  The distance between where I am and where I want to be.  Fading friendships.  Failing friendships.  Friendships that never begin.  Overwhelmed by responsibilities within a calling for which I'm not sure I am ready.  Struggling to be a leader, a lover, a mother, and sister.  A car engine that refuses to be healthy.  Not to mention the problems of the world.  A flooded New Orleans.  A pain-stricken economy.  A new natural disaster stealing lives and well-being.  The world itself seems to be imploding.

When you become a believer the problems of the world and every day personal struggles do not simply melt away.

Christians have it no easier than any other religion, no easier than atheists.  Our lives are filled with equal hardships.  It's not suddenly that we believe in God and the Christ who gave His life for us and we're rewarded with plentiful bounties here on earth where suddenly our relationships are perfect, we're promoted at work, or that Bentley we've always wanted sits in our drive-way.

No, to become a believer means something deeper.  And I have spent this year seeking.

This wasn't just a dating fast.  This wasn't just me struggling to be single.  This was a journey of purpose, seeking what is true love and life everlasting.

I have looked through the world with the eyes of a soul who knows that at the end of this life, at the end of this world, there is a God who loves us perfectly and has plans for us.  Plans for us to sit beside Him.  Plans for no more pain, no more suffering.

Life is not to be lived under the reigns of SINGLE or MARRIED.

But HIS.

Our short lives are lived out under the scope of eternity, and while we're here, it's a balance of mattering the least, but of what we do mattering the most.

My heart has changed eternally and no record could adequately share what is now His or all I have learned.

Only of this am I sure, that when one fasts from that on earth which holds the most meaning, they are sure to never be the same.

Day 358

Free-heart

Let him be past all his past relationships, his heart free from resentment, pining, and unfinished business.

It took me three years to get over him.

Mistakenly, I dated men throughout the process.  I tried to heal myself through them, both directly and indirectly.

Directly, I tried to change them, suffering from comparing everything they were doing to everything that had been done.  Trying to let their love and acceptance and validation overwhelm the unmovable rejection and hurt.  The more I tried to heal from their love the worse the hurt became, and the more I tried to change them in a preemptive attempt to prevent the coming end of the relationship.

And even through it all sometimes I would think, "I really miss him." While someone else held me, wishing that it was him instead, cheating my current beau out of purity and devotion.  My mind wandered, my heart still too deep in my past to give to anyone else.

And because I've worked on my heart, my obedience to God, set my determination to let myself be loved by Him, I ask for this in a husband.  I pray for a man who has devoted His life and His heart to God.  Someone who has spent time relinquishing the past.  Someone who harbors no hurt feelings.  I do not wish for someone perfect, but someone who is ready to give his heart to me with no discrepancies, no unreal expectations, and no attachments.  A freed heart.

You can't give your heart to someone new when it belongs to someone else.  Rule one.  Rule two is, you shouldn't let someone into your heart until you've given it completely to God.  Give it, as broken as it may have been, giving the peace back to the Healer, letting Him bandage the wounds.  Letting Him heal your heart.  Not expecting me to do that for you.  Not wishing you were still with her.  Not seeing her out and wishing that was you beside her.

Two hearts, new to each other, would do well to release all hurt prior to their meeting, so that availability to be loved can be met with a freshness and a chance to bloom.

Day 357

I collected Psalms for the October edition of my girls group.

 

And as I wrote each question for each Psalm, I paused and wondered which girl would receive what verse and what it would mean in the present state of her life.

When I saw Psalm 51:8, I thought to myself, “Whoever picks this is going to be going through a rough time right now…”

And as I opened my pocket today, I almost laughed as I read its words. 

 

Yup, I’m definitely going through a rough time right now.

When I say I’m miserable, I’m miserable.  I am fighting through misery to understand why God has me where He has me these days.  My heart is torn in fifty-million directions, aching and confused.  I don’t blame God for what I’m feeling, but neither do I know how to thank Him or find joy in my every day for what He has given me.

It is so easy to let a heart grow heavy and anxious.  It is so easy to not rejoice in His goodness.  It is so easy to complain, to cry, to pity oneself.

I can’t find peace.  I can’t find joy.

But stress finds me.  Jealousy finds me.  Anger resides in my heart.

Admittedly I haven’t been spending much time with God lately.  As it has a habit of doing, time moves so quickly, and in busyness, unfortunately, I fail to make a priority in intentionally spend time with Him and Him alone.

I prayed today when I returned home, and my hands went searching through my library.  Ten books I pulled down from the shelves and sat, flipping open to random pages, praying for vision, direction, comfort, understanding, and peace.

Lovingly, God always obliges when I ransack my shelving, taking me to pages that offer wisdom, comfort, and sense.

My soul, practice being alone with Christ.  O my soul, practice that solitude!  Practice dismissing the crowd!  Practice the stillness of your heart! (Streams in the Desert)

Stand firmly in the place where your dear Lord has put you, and do your best there…The strongest and greatest character is grown through hardship. (Streams in the Desert)

Linda didn’t fit in with the rest of the crowd, but the teacher fought for her, adored her, and gave her a way out.  God still loves me if no one else does, and He fights for me. (Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul)

When we worship in these hard places, we are reminded that none of it is about us—it’s about God. (What Happens When Women Say Yes to God)

Courage in suffering. (A Man Worth Waiting For)

The true nature of a heart is seen in the response to the unattractive. (And the Angels Were Silent)

Pray in three areas for your future spouse. (The Love Dare)

Young girl, I tell you to stand up!  Talitha, koum! (The Greatest Moments in the Life of Christ)

All of these notes mingled together, offering both unanimous and singular advice.

Then I read on through more of the Psalms, let the saddened feelings of David resonate within my own worries, but taking to heart his moments filled with light, worship, and hope.

Please give me peace for the coming days, God, and help me to remain close to You.  For there is no peace with You.  No joy.  No hope.  Please help me stay close, keeping You at the center of my weak heart.

Day 356

Loneliness

Let him be a man who will not date me out of loneliness, but out of true interest.

I have dated men out of loneliness.

But what is a relationship born out of loneliness?

Misery.  Misery from unmeetable expectations from an unrealistic responsibility.

When you date out of loneliness, you are not asking anything of your partner except for company.  You are not interested in character, or habits, but just the mere presence of someone—anyone.  And those who move quickly often deny their non-negotiables whereas those willing to wait—though they wait—will be much more satisfied in who they have awaited.

Where before it was about mere occupancy, now it becomes about something much deeper.

Character.

And be assured that character and vacancy are not on the same clock.  A date born out of loneliness meets its expiration immediately, whereas a date set on character affords mileage to be had, and, truly, a merrier ride.

Day 355

Intimidation

Let him be not intimidated by my spirit or walk with Christ, having diligently pursued God in his own life.

　

The older generations always seem so sad when they find that I’m single.

Suggestions, advice—even an occasional grunt is uttered in response to my news that finds them not so well.

Recently, a man asked, “Miss Jamie, do you think that you’re intimidating?”

I thought, curious.

He quickly made sure I knew it was a compliment, and went on his way.  But the question lingered.

Is it a bad thing, if it is the case, to intimidate men?

The world doesn’t glamorize strong women.  It makes fun of them.  Instead beautiful women are idolized and are more easily ranked among the most wanted.  But strong?

What man wants a strong woman?

And then it came to me.  A strong man.

A man who is strong in his own right, a man who is secure in himself, a man secure in a Christ who saved Him and loves him—that is the man strong enough to handle a strong woman.

In many ways, as God always finds a way to shield and protect, if this is the case, that I intimidate men, I should find myself in good company.  He has given me assurance that a man who approaches me will be securely invested in Him, knowing who He is, and who he is, before wanting to know who I am.

To appreciate my beauty, he’ll have to know Christ.
To appreciate my past, he’ll have to be secure in Christ.
To appreciate my present, he’ll have to see through the eyes of Christ.
To appreciate my personality, he’ll have to know the character of God.

To know me, truly, he must know Him who made me.

My heart seeks he who can lead me.  And until one finds me, it is upon only Him that I rest myself, my soul always enjoying the intimacy of His love.

Day 354

Shyness

Let him be a man who desires to pursue in spite of my shy nature.

I have faith that God can use what we think is a personality blip for His glory and for our good.

Never have I liked being the center of attention.  Instead, a comfy wall offers more comfort.  To survive school, I trained myself to be unheard and unseen, resting into the backdrop in the lives of others.

So this is why it must send me into shock when, from across a crowded room, an attractive single man notices me.

A smile sends me into a panic.

A wave flushes my cheek with color.

And conversation makes my heart palpitate as if I just sprinted a mile.

My motor functions fail and I stare blankly in response or dart away into another grocery aisle in avoidance.

I cannot help but wonder if this shyness is God's cloaking, for what man will take notice of me, a shadow?

He who pursues will have to have a heart of determination and an eye set to find me.

His way will be hedged up, fortitude his friend.  To pursue that which seems unpursuable, one must desire to invest, for no one invests lightly.  A lackadaisical investment does not exist as the word itself calls for true interest, energy, time, and passion.

A man interested in an easy quest will learn all too quickly I'm not what he wants.  And for that I'm thankful.

Day 353

You leave home, you move on

And you do the best you can

I got lost in this whole world

And forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it's like I'm someone else

I thought that maybe I could find myself

—The House that Built Me, Miranda Lambert

The leaves fell against the windshield of my car as I sat, quietly passing time.  The words of Miranda Lambert's song stung my heart.

For the first time since my visit to California in February, I do not hear God telling me to stay in Memphis, but neither do I hear Him telling me to go.

In February, I heard His will clearly.  He wanted me to stay, to finish learning, to grow stronger.

But now, now He's quiet.  He has offered no direction and His unresponse has made me begin to think maybe it's due time to move back to California.  Back to the place I vowed never to live again.  Back to the place that sucked away years of my life.  Back to the place whose memories hold so much pain.  Back to the city where my family still lives.

I told God I would die for my parents if that meant they would be with Him in Heaven.  I would give my life to see theirs spared.

But I fear what He is asking of me is far worse.  Dying to my desires, dying to my will, and moving back home to my parents is a fate far worse than merely dying in their place.

The lyrics of this song mean so much to me, holding thoughts much deeper than I might chance explaining.

A friend reminded me that God does not want us to grow comfortable.  This isn't our home.  Memphis isn't any more my home than Stockton is.  Heaven is where I'm bound, and then, and only then, I can rest, comfortable, in the palace of my Father.  But until then, not growing comfortable is the best weapon of defense.  Discomfort allows for flexibility whereas comfort is all too dangerous a seductress, bending us to remain in her coils of coziness.

My lease ends next September, giving me a little less than a year to spend my days in prayer over the matter, trying to discern God's voice above my own.  Should I leave and move back to Stockton, my parents would surely never leave, which means I would also stay.  Another friend, who is very wise, reminded me that we spend and invest much into Biblical leaders here in Memphis.  But what is to be done when we raise up these leaders only for them to remain here?  We should spread ourselves throughout the world, taking what we've learned and sharing it with unreached cities, investing in the uninvested.  So what good is it that I stay in a place where there are many leaders when my city is dying, overrun with sin and crime?

Should I stay, eventually my parents will move here to be with me, which means they will leave a city where nothing but death resides.  I would continue to grow with the church I have grown to love.  But mostly my family would be safe and we would be together.  But we also short Stockton of one less stable family, a city already aching from moral deprivation, thereby adding to its inevitable demise.

What to do?  My heart is torn and I can't hear God's voice clearly.  All I hear is my own, whispering fears, concerns, and meek hopes.

This, while seemingly unconnected to the One Year Challenge, is very much a part of it.  Unsure of where to root my feet leaves me wondering at the appeal of stepping into a relationship.  For what is to be served should I fall in love with a man here if my calling is in Stockton, California?  What should happen to our hearts then; should he leave his own family to attend to mine?  Yet another complication added to the puzzle of life, leaving me to figure out what serves God best and how I have matured, as the decisions I make infer what fruit has taken seed in a life claimed to be devoted to God.

Then I think life and love are not so much these decisions, but our reactions to them, being a telltale sign of our ability to follow God.  Falling in love here matters not so much as love vested in Christ would be sure to have God's will working in its way. 

I know God's will prevaileth over all.  As Jonah resisted Ninevah, he still ended up there.  No matter how much he tried to not go, there he was.  And I'm sure my fate is the same.  Wherever Jesus wants me, that's where I'll be, qualms, questions, reservations, and all.  At least I know He will be with me wherever I sojourn, even in the deepest pit.

Day 351

It's good to see them smile.

For the first time ever, I Skyped with my parents.

I miss them so much.  It’s incredible.

Dad asked, “So how many days left in your year?”

“Sixteen.”

There was a pause, and then he asked, “…you got anyone in mind?”

Turned my head, and thought.  “No, no one in mind…but, after all this, he’s going to have to be pretty amazing.”

Mom chimed in, “That’s too bad ‘cause I married the last amazing one...Dad's one of a kind.”

#sweetestthingiveheardhersay

Then she said, “Maybe you should start easy.  Don’t worry about commitment.  Just be friends first.  Go younger…”

Dad laughed, “Naomi, she doesn't want a boy who thinks he can, she wants a man who knows he can…”

“Are you quoting Spice Girls?” Mom asked.

Dad just laughed.

I love my parents.

God is amazing.  He has brought us to this amazing point where I don’t think I could love them any more than I already do.  He’s opened doors I thought were long closed, locked.  But here we are.

I’m living my life, my parents are supportive, and can even joke about parts of it.  They’re proud of me, even though I never turned out to be better.  To make more money.  To be smarter.  They’re proud of the me that I am.

I miss them so much, and wonder how much longer of my life will be spent in Memphis…

Day 350

Am I attracted to him?

I didn’t think I was until seeing him last week formed a knot in my stomach.  You know, the knot—the butterflies that dance in your stomach.

As he walked away from the counter, my coworker asked, “Would you date him?”

My response was a simple, “Do you think he believes?”

You know you’ve changed when your reactions change.  Months ago, a handsome face or a great sense of humor would have been enough to not only peak but to keep my interest.  Now, it’s a much different story.

Over the summer Sandy Wilson from Second Presbyterian came to Fellowship to preach.  I love him.  I’ve heard him preach when I used to visit Second Pres, and this sermon was no different, delivering as much wisdom as all his others.  In his visit, he gave me some really great dating advice without even meaning to.  He said:

As Jonathan Edwards preached in his famous sermon, "Praise is the chief employment of Heaven, and if we're not worshipers, we're not going to enjoy Heaven at all."  If someone complains about only believers going to Heaven, I say, "Well, would you like to just worship all the time?"  "Well, gosh, that would be boring."  "Well, you wouldn't like our Heaven, so you wouldn't want to go anyway." That's what it's all about...you see my point and the point of the Scriptures.  For a Christian, worship is the first thing and the number one priority."

If you don’t want to worship God, why would you want to go to Heaven?  That’s all we’re going to be doing.

If you don’t want to worship God with me, why would you want to date me?  That’s all I’m going to be doing, bringing glory to His name.

Some friends have faulted me for not giving non-believers a chance.  “Oh, you think you’re better than them,” they say, or, “You could always bring them to Christ, why not give it a chance?”

Not dating a non-believer is the greatest mercy I could have.

It’s the greatest mercy I could have on him, and myself.  And I don’t think women understand that.  By dating a non-believer, we’re putting ourselves into a really difficult game, where the man is supposed to be the spiritual leader, you're assuming his role.  And while I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, or can’t happen, that a man will find Christ by way of his wife, it is definitely a struggle—one in which you have to weigh your futures and the weight of the unknown, and how important it is to you to be led.

Don’t get me wrong.  Attraction matters.  It does.  Butterflies matter.  But they’re not the only element.

I need a man who gets my heart racing, yeah, but also one whose spirit is racing with me to finish line of glory.

Day 349

Everything probably isn’t going well…

…but I’m too overwhelmed to really let myself feel it.  To let it all sink in, because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll just fall to pieces entirely.

I feel like a complete failure.  Like I don’t know what I’m doing most days.  I have no idea if I can date.  I really don’t think I can, especially after today.

There is so much I still have left to work on.  I am selfish, and ungrateful.  How do you find a balance between fair and crossing the line when you live with someone?  I don’t understand how people live together for the rest of their lives.  That’s a long time.  And it feels like such a foreign thought.  How do you not grow to hate each other?

I don’t think I have what it takes to be a mom.  I don’t think I have it in me.  I don’t think I can be anyone’s wife.

I just don’t think I can do it.  I think I’m exactly who Paul is preaching to when he talks of singleness.

I haven’t been able to reach my parents, and they haven’t been able to reach me.  I miss them so much.  And just through text Mom has been saying, “Dad hasn’t been doing well since you left.”

And immediately that makes me want to go back.  I thought to myself, I could sell all my things, move back to California, live in my parents’ living room, and find a night job.  That way Mom could work during the day and I can work at night, and Dad would always have someone there to care for him.  I could watch Steven.  I could take care of Grandma.  I could be there.  I could sacrifice Memphis, and move back.  Nineveh.  That’s essentially what Stockton is.  And I’m Jonah.   I feel a whale approaching…

I’m struggling.

Volunteering is wearing on me.  It didn’t take me long to realize that not many people volunteer for their churches—not enough anyway.  What I used to love, well, I still love it, but I have so much less energy.  I wish more people would volunteer.  The producer-consumer ratio is really off.

What am I doing with my life?  What am I doing with myself?

Today was a sad day.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

You know it’s bad when they ask for prayers.  They don’t ask.  That’s just how it is.  Why am I not there with them, God?

Day 348

It seems like so long ago that I received this encouragement
from my friends for reaching Day 100 of my One Year Challenge.

Nineteen—19!—days.

That is insane.  Clearly, the biggest accomplishment of my life.

Some people win Nobel Prize.  Others run for President.  And still some are queens, college graduates, and newlyweds.  The list goes on, and the spectrum of accomplishments is a wide one.  But this—this is mine.  This is my gift from God.

I first noticed boys when I was in the third grade.

When I was 12, I lied about having a boyfriend.

When I was 14, I experienced my first kiss, my first love, and my first heartbreak.

When I was 16, I met my high school sweetheart.
When I was 19, I cheated because just one wasn’t enough.

At 21, I moved 2,000 miles to be with the next-best-thing.
Until I met the next next-best-thing, and was engaged at 22.

At 24, I dated my first “Christian.”

At 26, I found the truest love of my life, then said goodbye to him…

…all because I finally gave my heart to a man who said, “No more.”

No more sex, because that’s not you.

No more pining, because that’s not you.

No more desperation, because that’s not my daughter.

No more looking for love…because I love you.

I love you with a love greater than you could ever fathom.  My love is true and real and for everything your heart has been seeking.  I designed your heart.  I designed all of you, every part.  I created you, personally invited you into the world.  I have intimately asked to love you, to be loved by you.  I adore you, my daughter. Your light brown eyes that look upon my sky, your brown hair fashioned from that of your parents.  Your fingers skimming so quickly across the keyboard.  Your mind that composes.  Your laugh, like music to My ears.  I created you.  I enjoy you.  I laugh with you.  I cry with you.  And though you may not feel Me, I hold you.  I hold you so tightly.

You came to Me.  I’ve waited for this day, don’t you know?  I was there when you were born.  I was there when your grandmother died.  I was there every moment of hurt when the bullies called you names and spit in your hair.  Every bus ride, I was beside you.  I was there when he shattered the Christmas tree.  I was there when he lied, when he shunned you.  I was there when the rumors were spread.  I was there when she confessed.  I was there when he hit you.  I was there when you were strangled.  I was there for every snide remark, for every day he cut you down.  I was in the quiet when the results were received.  I was with you in the loss.  For the heartattack.  In your hospital room.  I was there.

I was there and have been there every moment of your life.  I’ve always been there, merely waiting for you.

You’re mine.

Four years ago, I learned about God.  Three years ago He declared I was His.  Two years ago, I fought against Him.  A year ago, I gave up, gave in, and made the wisest, most difficult decision to die to myself faithfully and to follow Him.

This has been a year filled with sanctification and opportunities to personally and vividly experience His glory, His wide love.

Let Him love you.

Four words that in four years have eternally changed my life—a life that will now live on as a living sacrifice for all He’s done, because, oh, how He loves us so.

Nineteen days left.  Three-hundred forty-seven days in.  Four years of knowing Him.  Twenty-seven years of Him fighting for my love.  An eternity of loving me.  And an eternity in which to love Him back.

What beauty is it that the sum of my life and the truth of my eternity is condensed into but a simple entry.  What magnificent wonder it is that an eternity is made up into so few words.  He holds all of my eternity in His hands.  And I’ve only begun to live.  What joys awaits eternity, only my Redeemer knows.

My Redeemer. My Father.  My Savior.  My Lord.  My King.  My Shepherd.  My Lover.  My Provider.  My Love worth worship.  My ever-constant companion.

Ever constant.  Ever mine.

Ever His.

Day 347

Flee from temptation, right?  Right.

So when Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream would find its way onto my radio, I would change the station.  A girl like me with a past like mine need not hear such words or be led to think such thoughts.

I'm a get your heart racing

In my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight

Let you put your hands on me

In my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight

See?  See?!  Vivid imagination at work!  I do remember what it was like to be a teenager, Katy Perry, but I’m desperately trying not to remember.

For months, I’ve continuously clicked off the song...except for today when God laid on my heart Song of Solomon.

He made me think of context.  It depends on context. You can take those love ballads of Song of Solomon and place them between a man and a wife without being married, and it portrays a very different picture than that of two in covenant with God.

And I think that was why her song was so hard to hear when it initially came out, because of the context I had wrapped it in.  It made me think of my past, my recklessness, what I’ve given away and won’t have to give my future husband—all my hurt, from where it stemmed.

But thinking of Teenage Dream within the context of marriage, suddenly my entire perception of the song has changed.  Instead of imagining irresponsible, adulterous lovers, I see two committed people who have vowed to spend the rest of their lives together.  Try it.  Read it as if it’s a girl who’s dreaming about her husband…

You think I'm pretty

Without any makeup on What girl doesn’t want this?

You think I'm funny

When I tell the punchline wrong I especially need this guy!

I know you get me

So I let my walls come down, down Yup, ready for this guy.

Now every February

You'll be my Valentine, Valentine If I get married, I have a permanent Valentine.  Wow.

My heart stops

When you look at me Ready for this feeling, too.

Now baby I believe

This is real Waiting for the real deal.

We drove to Cali One day he’ll meet the ‘rents.

Got a motel and

Built a fort out of sheets Someone I can be a crazy kid with even when we’re old.

I finally found you

My missing puzzle piece That day when we find each other…

I'm complete Complete in a different way.

Let's go all the way tonight

No regrets, just love

The truest love is the love found in God, from Christ.  And that’s what I crave so desperately.  And I truly believe that if one does not know the love of Christ that he cannot know true love.

People give themselves away for love.  That’s why there are regrets.  People end relationships after having given the most intimate part of themselves to a person who wasn’t supposed to have it.

I know the next time it happens, if there is a next time, that it’s going to be something of beauty, and something out of true love.  Not just a hook-up.  Not just a way of validation.  If our love is Christ-centered, if we’ve kept God at the center of our hearts through our friendship, our courtship, our engagement…I don’t see there being regrets.

...for once, I don’t see there being regrets.  Which will be unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

I think there’s a little bit of gospel in everything.  Now, this ain’t no Anthony Hamilton, but still, there’s a message in it.  God just sometimes has to focus our peripheral vision to see it.

We can dance, until we die

You and I, will be young forever

Day 345

I love my guy friends.  Absolutely.  I appreciate everything they do and are and how they’ve encouraged me, but ultimately I know that there are boundaries, limits, and often expiration dates on these opposite sex friendships.

One thing I’ve learned from Andy Stanley’s sermons is that you don’t need to be married—or even in a relationship—to prepare for marriage.  Preparing for marriage comes long before the vows.  And the sooner you start, the better.  Because I have learned this, my friendships with men, while spiritually encouraging and life-changing, remain at a less deep level than my friendships with women.

I know that long after I marry it is these friendships that will be with me, that will continue to have the ability to grow deeper, to be bonded in a way that male-female friendships cease out of respect for a marriage and its intimacy.

And this is how I came to want so desperately friendships—and deeper friendships—and opportunities to grow with women.  And I also figured that if I could want these things, that it was very likely that other women wanted them, too.

And while I prayed to God for Him to move and provide, I sat.  Idle.  Waiting.  Wondering.  And after a year of waiting for His provision, I realized He was waiting on me.

And through a course of events and people (people, who without this would not be possible) s•i•b was born.  Something in Between.  Something not just prayer, not just worship, not just one thing.  We began in July, where I held my first gathering, trying to verbalize God’s prompting in my life.

Month 1: Introduced the Prayer Board where we write our prayers
on post-it notes, both sharing our prayers
openly with each other and awaiting God to answer us. 

Month 2: Created Cue Cards to spark conversation and offer the girls
a planned out way to be open with one another about how God had
recently blessed their lives.

Month 3: Each girl picked a gift pouch that contained a unique verse, and each
verse had an accompanying question.  It's a group activity that makes us
women work together and talk to one another about
God and what's going on in our lives, purposefully.

I wanted for women to connect.  I wanted for us to have opportunities outside of church to know each other.  To provide a reason for women to share.  The ideas began rolling.  Cue cards.  Questions.  Ways to open doors for those wanting doors to be opened.  To challenge women to step into roles they may not otherwise receive or volunteer.  To push them to be leaders, to pray out loud, to share.  To share in His Word.  To sing praises to Him, worshiping together.  Giving women a prompting to share God’s love in their lives—to share His glory.

The simple needing of something can provide the road to its very provision.

Not every meeting has been perfect, but each one has been written by Him.  I feel His hands over all of it.  The development, the songs, the girls who attend, the words that are spoken, the prayers that are prayed, the fellowship, the open hearts—it’s Him who has fashioned everything.

I don’t know if the other girls feel the same way I do, but after each finish, I reflect on the short, but meaningful time spent together.  Always I am thankful for the women He calls to attend and who He has introduced into my life and whose lives have been connected by Him through this.

There are a million different reasons this was formed and because of this, there are a million different provisions that are received from it.  I hope that it gives each woman something, because the only woman I can vouch for is me, and I know that listening to my sisters talk openly about the God who loves them has been a bigger blessing than anything else.

Each meeting has been unique, different.  And I look forward to the coming of the next one.

Dear God, I just praise You for all You have done in my life.  You have taken my hands and made otherwise incapable fingers fashion doors for women.  You have opened the hearts of those in attendance and I pray that You continue to guide those women.  For those who have come, but not returned.  For those who RSVPed and never made it.  For those who have dueling schedules and cannot make it.  For the women who come regularly.  For those who have helped at every point in this process.  I pray for all of these hearts.  Father, I pray that You continue to guide me through this and show me more people who have any advice.  I pray to know older women, to connect with the wise.  To be poured into.  I pray for the hearts of my peers to have similar desires.  I pray that if there is a woman out there who has the same desires that she walks through the next door, and receives whatever it is she needs.  Praise and deep thanks for those who have helped along the way.  Without their help, encouragement and direction, this wouldn’t exist.  Thank You for placing them in my life.

Matthew 7:7

Day 344

Just ask him how he made it

He'll tell you faith and sweat

And the heart of a faithful woman

Who never let him forget

Be a best friend, tell the truth

And overuse "I love you"

Go to work, do your best

Don't outsmart your common sense

Never let your prayin' knees get lazy

And love like crazy

—Love Like Crazy, Lee Brice

I think this song truly epitomizes for who my heart is longing.

Day 344.  How did I make it this far?  How has it gone by so quickly?  How have I been able to change so much?

I am just in awe of this last year of my life, and know that it’s only the beginning.  I diligently disciplined myself through Christ’s love and grace and am such a different girl than I was so many days ago.

I think people shortchange this challenge.  They don’t really get what all goes into it.  You get what you put into it.  If you don’t change your inside and expect the outside to change, well, my friend, that’s a poor attitude that will get no one nowhere.

I looked through my treasure box today, running my fingers over mementoes.  Stuff I never thought I’d do, I did.  Stuff I didn’t want to, I did with a joyful heart.  I’ve received so much through this—from Him.  Selfishly, yeah, this challenge was about bettering myself, being a better, happier person, but He used it in so many ways—ways I couldn’t even imagine, because I was open.

People think, “Oh, you’re just not dating…that’s easy.”  But internally, there’s a shift.  You learn how to operate around the opposite sex, how to channel your mind into reality, not fantasy.  You learn to wait.   Patience is a learned virtue.  You practice obedience.  You don’t say things you want to say when the Spirit leads you not to say them.  You say things you don’t want to say when you’re guided by the Spirit to say them.  I have put more work into this than anything else in my life.

This challenge was to kill my idol, to rid myself to validation through men, sex, and relationships.  To heal from the hurt caused from living knowingly and without obstruction in judgment with sin.  To forgive myself, to forgive others, to lower my expectations and to raise them.  To love Christ and God the Father completely and faithfully.  To trust His will above the desires of my own.

I went from having a man validate my entire existence to not needing a man at all.  Not physically.  Not intimately.  Not emotionally.  Not needing in a sense of my whole being depending upon them.  And for someone who spent 27 years of their life like that—that’s a comeback right there.  A comeback by the hand of Christ who lifted the shackles from my wrists, unbound my heart tethered to Satan’s lies, and lifted me from the unrealistic, wholly-healing fantasies of love and marriage.

One day I might be married.  Now, I might not be—but chances are someone is going to come along who reminds me what it feels like to fall in love.

My story will not be an easy one for him to hear, I’m sure, but what he’ll know is that I spent time, effort, energy—that I invested in him long before he came to me.  I invested myself in my Father, my Savior, my Redeemer, which flows into a beautiful river of loving and respecting others when it pierces your heart so unshakably.             

With 22 days left, I plan to spend them diligently wrapping up this year with Him, my ever-present Father.  And it is so wonderful to know that unlike any other relationship in my life, this one has no expiration date.  There is no break-up where He wounds my heart.  There is no realization that He’s not “the one”—because He’s The One.  And I will spend the rest of my life following Him, doing my best to bring honor to His name, loving those around me that He has sent to me, and being loved by Him.

What better reward to a dating fast is there than a man who will never leave you…never forsake you…and Who has given His life for you?

None, I say, and know this truth better every dying day.

Day 342

I hadn't planned on writing.  But then again, I had no intentions of being up this late either.

I expected the pain medicine to kick in by now, the side-effect of drowsiness taking its rightful place in my system.  But, here I am, half past midnight and awake, thoughts churning.

For the second time this year in leaving California, an even stronger confusion over what I'm doing was raised.

It took six years and a changed heart for me to love my family as I do now.  And to leave them at this time in my life seems ridiculous.

As I climbed the escalator I kept looking back at my mother, waving.  This was the first time my father could not be with us to see me off.  And it was also the first time I secretly watched them leave first.

Normally they stay until they can't see me anymore.  And as I seemingly disappeared, they turned and left.  But I walked backwards, just out of eyesight, watching my mother and brother leave the terminal.  With every step, my heart raced a little more.

I could stay.

I could ride down this escalator in a panic and declare I'm not leaving.

I could go home and be with my family every day.  The father that raised me.  The mother who loved me even when I didn't love her.  The brother who chooses to love me now despite the years of torment.  I could go back and stay back and be back there with them.

What's the point of saving strangers?  What's the point in saving people I don't already love if I'm not even devoted to the salvation of my own blood family?

Of course in the Kingdom, there is no such thing as a stranger.  Every woman and a man a sister, a brother.  A responsibility of mine to be shown love.

But still.  Save my mom.  Save my dad.  Love my brother and perhaps save him, too.  What could be greater than a loving of your first family?  The only family I had before I knew the family of Christ?

What am I coming back to?  I thought as I boarded the plane.

I've got friends, yes.  But as time goes along, we've all got separate paths.  I know I can't determine the circumstances of my life upon the geography of others for they too shall be drawn to different corners of the world for His glory.

I've got a job, but not a career to which I cling.  I am free to leave at any time and work anywhere else.  This is a slighted freedom that not obtaining a college degree has afforded me.

Really.  What's to keep me in Memphis?

I've not even a husband to tether me anywhere, which persuades me to think that it is meant to be so.  After the One Year Challenge ends...after this year of denying myself from the idol that clutched my heart so tightly over the last half of my life...after securing myself in Christ so desperately and completely...what's to keep me here?

This last trip gave opportunity to see I'm not who I was and I have no desire to be ever again.  Being in the same city that had me as a child, teenager, young adult...it would not affect me by peer pressure to be any less than what I am now.  So confident in my Savior, I have no desire to ever gain anyone's acceptance knowing that, that which I once sought left me no gain.

Why stay?

Maybe more appropriately, why choose to remain so far from the family that tugs at my heart?

The challenge ends in November.  And next September my lease is over.

I can leave at any point with nothing cementing me here in Memphis.

So, God, I ask...why stay?

I read this recently and it caused me to pause:

The Mayonnaise Jar and Two Cups of Coffee

A professor stood before his philosophy class and when class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.  He then asked the students if the jar was full.  They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar.  He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls.  He asked the students again if the jar was full.  They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.  Of course, the sand filled up everything else.  He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous, “Yes.”

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things–your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions–and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

“The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.  The sand is everything else–the small stuff.  If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.  The same goes for life.  If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

“Pay attention to the things that are critical for a life well-lived.  Play with your children.  Take time to get medical checkups.  Take your spouse out to dinner.  Play another 18.  There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal.  Take care of the golf balls first–the things that really matter.  Set your priorities.  The rest is just sand.”

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.  The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked.  It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.”

Day 341

The way she laughs.  The shine in his eye.  The curious smirk on his face.

These are the marks of my family.  Marks I wish never to forget.

No day is promised to us.  It should be very likely a day to come that is not filled with the words of my father’s wisdom, my mother’s compassionate murmur, or my brother’s endless knowledge.  Quiet walls.  When wrongness comes the space between is quiet and hearts fall dim.

With every ounce of my soul I wish they knew the Love that is greater than my own.  The Love that landed the stars in the sky, that causes the moon to rise, and the sun to shine on the gardenias in their garden.

Oh, how it were that my father’s hand would be at the pages of a Bible or on the wood of a pew.  That my mother’s thoughts filled with delight in unending grace.  That my brother’s ears heard prayers of love and justice and atoning sacrifice.

But alas, in a world all too familiar, they stand.  Unsaved.  Scared.  Unknowing.

And I hear nothing from God, but, “Love.”

Loving them means tenderness and gentleness, a giving I feel time does not afford.

But still I hear His voice say, “Wait,” and only, “Love.”

Love will draw them near.

And so I love.  I love with a love not of this world.  Not quick to anger or condemn, but lighting a path akin to those lit for planes, for flight, for direction.

I whisper, “Follow me,” in the small hope that they hear my Father’s loving voice—but not just my Father, no, the Father that gave them wind to laugh, hands to garden, and hearts to love.  The Father that formed them long before I knew them or they knew me.

And I wait.

I wait for the moment they say, “We hear.”

And though I fear that day I may not meet, though I underestimate the power of an all-powerful God, though I question the very God who brought I as a lost sheep to Him, my candle burns with the undying hope that perhaps.

Just perhaps.

And that time will then have no venture in our love.  That money will not dictate time spent together, but that our wisps of lives on this earth are all met with eternity.

Eternity where God holds us near, and love is complete and pain has been ushered to the unmentioned realm.

Perhaps.  Love.  Waits.

And so shall I never abandon, but fight with the quiet fervor as a warrior of The King, despicably desperate for all to be reached and for all to reach Him.  For it is His heart and His heart alone that propels the very world, and the only loss is given at the unknowing of He who made us, loves us, and wants us.

Here in lies the great meaning, we must lose our lives to be saved, but can’t do so until loss beckons our name.  Which voice shall be ultimately heard?  Which answered?  I hope in favor of the Father, the Redeemer of the Lost.

Day 340

The view from the plane on my way home.

I’m comfortable being single.

I missed my one-month-left-iversary while I was away in California without my laptop.

So, I say now that I am full of joy in this place where God has me, and do say that if this were my cup for this life, I would take it upon myself to drink any gifting from God.

This does not mean the desire in me is dead.  And I know, because on the off-chance that a very handsome man in an airport who offers a smile in my direction—a smile given in any other place at any other time would invite conversation—that it still causes my heart to stir and my cheeks to flush.

Yes, the desire to be someone’s lover, servant, and wife remain inlaid on my heart, as does the stronger desire to serve God.

After about a year of challenging yourself from restraining from an idol, you realize the great gift of all gifts is Him, and that anything that comes from Him is a secondary gift.

Whether I wed, whether I remain but a single girl—gifts.  Both gifts.  And really this year has been the unblinding of this knowledge—not a shift in desires, for they remain—but to heed His love above all else, knowing that His love is all sustaining—solely sustaining.

I do not have to be at a certain place at a certain time with a certain man for my will to be done.  My will is irrelevant unless it aligns with His.

I do not know what should happen in a month’s time—and don’t need to.

That is yet still part of my amazingly unhinging journey and I thank Him every day for His doing.