Over the past year the image of the tree has become pretty significant to me. The Lord often speaks to me through pictures and images, and the image of a tree seems to continue to come up. I have often found myself drawn to paintings and designs that incorporate trees.

At the beginning of this present journey the tree was small, just a shoot. Tender and willowy with roots that barely breached the soil. It was easily bent and swayed by the wind that often swirled around it. While it was planted in the soil and rooted there, moments would go by that would tug at the very roots holding it in place. The tree often felt like an moment she would lose her hold and be carried off by the mighty rushing wind.

As time went on an amazing thing happened, the tree grew. The roots dug themselves down more deeply into the soil, the trunk thickened and became more firm, the branches began to reach towards the heavens. The winds still rushed and swirled around but the little tree was no longer swayed as easily. There were less and less moments where the tree felt like it would be plucked from the soil it clung to and carried off by the wind. There was a settling, a confidence that no longer would the slightest breeze threaten to overtake the tree.

As the tree stretched toward heaven joy began to spring forth. It started small at first, just little hints here and there, but as the sun shone down and the tree soaked in it's warmth, as the roots grabbed hold of the soil and felt their firm grasp, the tree couldn't help but be overcome. She knew that she was growing, changing, strengthening. She knew that she was firmly planted in a soil so rich she only had to soak in it's nutrients. Her job, her task was to soak in the sun, feel it's warmth, bask in its greatness and to open herself up to the richness in the soil holding her in place.

She still had much more growth to do, but now, being a bigger and stronger tree, she could dance with the wind instead of bow her head in shame and fear.

Grieving

I am grieving. There I said it. It's out in the open. Hidden no more.

But I'm not grieving in the traditional sense. I didn't lose a loved one to death. Instead I am experiencing the grief of changing friendships / relationships.

I never thought that one could grieve over something other than someone that you love dying and no longer being around. I never thought I would grieve the changing of relationship with friends who I care deeply for. In fact, it feels very humbling, and frankly embarrassing, to admit grieving over the changing of relationships.


I have always been strong. In crisis situations I have always been looked to for strength and support, to be the strong one, the one that nothing phases. Being the oldest child from a messy home, I am guessing I came by this naturally. I am also a pretty even person. I don't typically have really high highs or really low lows. People are always telling me how strong I am and how great I handle things. Because of that I have often pressured myself to remain strong in tough situations.

This has all changed this past year. As I have been working on my inner self, the Lord and I have taken a journey into the depths of my soul. What I have found there has been much pain and heartache, but also freedom and love that I have never known. I have experienced some pretty low lows and have seen sides to myself that make me want to hide my head in shame. I'm not the strong stoic person I, and many others, think that I am. I am a meek, timid, scared little girl looking for love and acceptance. I am a girl filled with many hurts, a girl desperately in need of a Savior, a friend.

I have been an absolute mess and more so, allowed myself to be that mess and allowed others to see it. Of course not everyone is privy to my mess and I am sure that the majority of people in my life have no idea the journey that this has been. But I have worked hard and fought to remain true and authentic with my closest circle of friends. And a fight it has been. I have battled the fear that friends would grow weary of walking with me in my messy, hurting, needing state and turn away. I am sad to admit there have been many days were I listened to that fear and hid my hurt, my pain, my mess so that I wouldn't seem so needy. But there were other days where I humbly asked for help, grace and love, knowing that if my burden became too much to bear and they couldn't take it and walked away, that Christ would still be by my side.

As I asked for help and opened myself up an incredible thing happened. I found love. I found grace. I found acceptance. I found women who stood by me, prayed with me, cried with me, loved me in spite of my mess. And I have clung to them and really come to realize how much they mean to me. Realize that I never would have made it through this journey without them. Realize how much I love them.


But time marched on.


Within the last 5 months one moved far way, one has gotten married (one who I had lived with and shared life with for over 8 years) and one is about to be married. All wonderful things. Things that deep within I rejoice over and thank the Lord for. Things I have prayed with them for and am so excited about. But what that means for me is a drastic change in all 3 of my closest relationships.

I didn't realize all these things compiled together in such a short amount of time would mean grief. I didn't realize how much those relationships meant to me until they shifted and changed. I didn't realize how much I relied on that love and support until it looked different.

I am still friends with these women and hope to always be, but I am grieving what was. I used to be the one they talked with about hard days, the one they called when they needed to cry, the one they called when something great happened and they couldn't wait to share it, and the one they wanted to hang out with on a Friday night.

Within my soul I know that I will get through this. I know that we will figure out this new kind of relationship, that time will march on, that our relationship will morph and shift like the changing of the seasons. But I also know that I need time to grieve.


Weird. Grieving relationships that still are. Grieving the loss of people who still live and move and are a part of my life, albeit in different ways. But I need to do it. I need to allow myself the space and freedom to mourn, to be sad, to miss what was.

It sucks. It's humbling. It's hard. But it's real. And that is what I have been fighting for this past 18 months - being honest with where I'm at and gentle with myself. Allowing myself to feel, to breathe, to be real. For too long I have stuffed feeling and emotion so that I could "be alright," and "be strong" only to become this broken, wrecked, lost individual.

So I humbly ask for grace as I walk through the tangled web of emotions that is grief. I know I won't do it perfectly. I know it will be hard on more than just me. But I also know I need to walk this path.

Thankful

"You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence." (Psalm 90: 8)
But it is there, in the light of your presence, fully seen for all that we are, that grace abounds. There in that vulnerable, scary place we find love, a limitless, merciful, amazing love. Love that washes our iniquity, our sin, away, leaving us spotless before your throne.

Serving. Friends. Refreshment.

Fargo, ND a town about 3 hours away from the Twin Cities is located along the Red River. The unique thing about the Red River is that it flows north instead of south. Because of this it is prone to flooding in the spring when the southern part of the river thaws more quickly than the northern part. Right now the town of Fargo is preparing itself for some massive flooding. The river is already over it's banks and continues to rise. The community has banded together to lay around 2 million sandbags in an effort to stop the water.

My friend Dave had the incredible idea to drive up there for the day to help. We left the Twin Cities at 9 am on Sunday morning and got up there around lunchtime. We parked at the Fargodome and loaded one of the buses bound for the dikes.

Driving to the work site was a tad surreal. The city has built dikes made out of dirt in different portions of the city. These dikes look like large dirt walls running down half of the street, leaving only one lane to drive on. The homes on the other side are blocked in by these dirt dikes on one side and sandbag dikes on the other. The theory behind it is if the water makes it through the sandbags then the wall of dirt will stop it from flooding the entire neighborhood. I had never seen anything like it. Pulling up to the work site our bus our bus slid around a corner. If you have never experienced a bus sliding in slow motion around a corner, it's pretty sweet (only because we didn't hit anything).

We worked for about 5 hours laying sandbags to help build a dike and guesstimate that we helped place around 1,500 sandbags. We also met some fun people in the process: there was a youth group there (which made it feel a little bit like we were on a YouthWorks site), we met 2 people who had worked at camp with one of our co-workers, a man who is the uncle of someone who used to work for YouthWorks, and a guy who is dating a girl who went to high school with Dave. In addition we met a lot of really cool people who live in Fargo.

Getting dirty (we were covered in mud), working side by side with friends and strangers, and accomplishing something tangible was a super refreshing way to spend the day.

The year of 2009 I have dedicated to learning to love others better. To put daily into practice the verse that says "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves." (Philippians 2:3). The phrase "consider others better than yourself" has been running on a looped track in my head these last few months. There are moments where I live this out very well and almost want to boast at the way I am putting others ahead of me, but I am ashamed to say that there are many more times where I take the selfish path. The path that looks the way I want it to look and the path that is the most comfortable and convenient for me.

Out there in the mud and muck, lifting 20 lb bags of sand and working with people from all walks of life this phrase often found it's place in my head. I found myself wondering how I could serve these friends and strangers in my midst. I found myself wondering if my sacrifice made a difference, if it had any effect on those around me. But then I remembered that I don't love and serve others for their sake. I love and serve others because they are reflections of the God I love and adore. I love and serve others because Christ calls me to that. I love and serve others because in serving and loving them, I am serving and loving Him.

My head hit the pillow late that night thankful. Thankful for friends and deepening relationships. Thankful for laughter. Thankful for car sing-alongs. Thankful for serving. And thankful for a God who loves me, despite moments of selfishness and vain ambition. Who loves me really, inspite of my sinful self. Who loves me because of the beauty He sees within me.

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
He drew me out of deep waters.
He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes who were too strong for me.
He brought me out into a spacious place;
He rescued me because
HE DELIGHTED IN ME."
Psalm 18: 16,17,19

A Time of Sacrifice

This post is a collection of all the random thoughts that are floating around in my head as of late:

It's crazy to think that Lent is already upon us. The Christmas season with it's hustle and bustle is a semi-distant memory. January, which turned out to be just as, if not more, busy than December seems like it only ended yesterday and yet March is staring us dead in the eye.

Lent starts tomorrow. Tomorrow I begin a journey that will last 40 days and which will culminate with the celebration of Christ's resurrection. I have decided this year to incorporate fasting into my sacrificial giving up. Fasting to petition the Lord. Fasting to cry out for a word. Fasting to draw me nearer to the heart of God. Fasting to ask for a gift.

As I think about this time I reflect on the current state of my life. Hungry but not satisfied. Longing but unable to seek. A place that wants to be hopeful but a place that more often feels pushed down and held back. I am struggling. Struggling to put God first, struggling to love Him with my whole being, struggling to connect intimately with my Creator, struggling to trust in his goodness in the midst of waiting. There is a hunger inside of me that keeps calling out, keeps asking to be filled. I am scared that as I keep ignoring it that it will become less and less, but that doesn't seem to be the case. In fact, the opposite is true. It seems to be growing bigger and bigger, not allowing me to forget it's existence. It's always there, calling out to me, urging me to come, but when when I do, when I make time, I run up against a brick wall. I don't know what this brick wall is or why it continues to hold me back. It's frustrating. I miss Jesus. I miss sweet fellowship. I miss growth and change. I miss steps made toward my God.

I'm seeking answers to things that have long gone unfulfilled. There are moments where I ask "is this worth it? do i really want to live this christian life?" I am being pushed to a place of trust that is scary and hard. All these may be my walls. Things that hold me back. Ways I am held at bay.

Why can't I break free? Why can't I be totally content just being loved by Jesus? Why do I long for more and more? Why are you silent God? Why can't I get back to that place of sweet fellowship?

i miss you.

i need you.

please hear my cry through sacrifice.

draw me near.