I Don't Fight Alone

I have an enemy, of this I'm sure. He hates me and wants me to fail. And sometimes I feel like he's very close to winning.

It seems like the more I start to focus on what it is God's doing in my life, the more opposition I face. It's very hard to make any forward progress when I'm constantly fighting off attacks. I truly don't know how I'm ever going to succeed.

Why is it that life doesn't become easier when I'm on the right track? Honestly, I could use a little covering. Some sort of protection from the devil as I'm trying to learn how to fight.

I know this isn't the case, but I often feel like I'm all alone in this battle ... like God's sitting on the sidelines, cheering me on from afar. But I don't need a cheerleader. I need a teammate. I need a defender. Him by my side, in the arena, fighting with me.

Because I will be defeated on my own, I know this.

I wish I could see the real battle. I wish I could see, even just for a minute, what I know is the truth ... that God is fighting with me. For some reason, though, He's chosen to hide reality from us right now. And this makes it so hard to fight with strength, perseverance and courage.

I'm struggling to remember that what I think is reality, that I'm alone in this battle, is not actually real. It's a lie.

The truth is, I do have a Warrior by my side. I have a Defender. I have the King of the Universe, the Creator of all Heaven and Earth, with me in this.

I'm not alone. And the victory is already ours.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
~Ephesians 6:12 

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.
~1 Corinthians 13:12

My Vicarious Trip to Ecuador

Chris and I are very different. We often marvel at how our marriage works when we are so completely opposite. There is one big thing we have in common, though. We both love to travel. And, I might add, for being so different, we travel quite well together. I so look forward to the day when life slows down and we can see the world together. (Read: retirement.) First stop: northern Italy.

Until then, however, I will live vicariously through Chris. He gets to travel for his job. Mostly domestically (and really, who can complain about San Francisco?) but occasionally internationally, as well.

This week he is in Ecuador. I'm very excited for him. Of all the trips to Compassion countries I've been on, (okay ... that's only four, but still) Ecuador was definitely my favorite!

He'll be posting on Compassion's blog about the trip. I'm looking forward to reading along, particularly on the days when they visit the jungle. From what I understand, it's very remote. They have to travel for over an hour in a canoe to get there!

The group is made up of eight women and three men, so I imagine that should any of the jungle fauna decide to make an appearance during their adventure, there will be inordinate amounts of high-pitched squealing. I am confident that my super manly, incredibly strong, extremely courageous, east coast bred and raised husband will not be among them.

After all, he is sporting a mean mustache.

Finding My Faith: The Beginning

As I sit here writing this morning, the sky out the front window is pink. Or maybe orange. Actually it's somewhere in between the two, like a color from Heaven that doesn't exist on Earth. It's pretty amazing.

God continues to surprise me. (Really, why should I be surprised? He's God.)

This morning I got an email from a friend who said she really related to my recent post on faith. (This wasn't the first time, but it was written in a way that really struck me.) It's weird to share something so personal only to find that someone else feels the same way.

Sometimes I wonder why God made me the way He did. I've never felt like a complete mistake, but like maybe (as I so often do) He overlooked the details. Why, when I have the ability to express myself through writing, do I have such a hard time articulating my thoughts and feelings verbally? Why do I want so desperately to do things differently, and I find myself doing the same old thing? Why am I so totally driven by emotions? Why do fear and anxiety have such a stronghold in my life? Will I ever be free of them or will they haunt me forever?

Since my dad died in December, I've had to face the overwhelming fear I've been running from my whole life - the death of my parents. Over the last year of trying to make sense of it, I don't think I've made much progress. I still am confused why I prayed more fervently than I ever have only to watch him die. I still struggle to understand the point of prayer. I don't understand how a God who created and desires intimacy still feels so far away. Why do I cling to something that, in the darkest hours of my life, didn't seem to make much difference?

I guess it's in the face of these questions that faith really becomes faith. When there is no evidence and it seems like anyone in their "right" mind would give it up, stubbornly I still believe. I still believe that God is good and loves me. I still believe that He'll make good on His promises that death is not the end and I'll see my dad again. I still believe that He hears my prayers.

I don't think I've found faith yet. I'm just beginning to see what it might look like in my life. Until I questioned my faith, there was no way to know if it actually existed. Because what I thought was faith wasn't.

Faith isn't what I do on a daily basis or how I think. It's what's left when there's nothing else to hold on to.

We Fly Acoustic Airlines

We fly Southwest Airlines almost exclusively. Traveling with a child, you can't beat their luggage policy. Now here's just one more reason we'll keep flying them ... I can hardly wait to see who's going to show up on our next flight! (If it were Mat again, I wouldn't be disappointed.)

Who's the artist you'd most like to surprise you with an in flight concert?

The Day My "Faith" Fell Apart

I wondered what it was going to take for me to post again. It's been six months since I last wrote. Nothing major occurred which caused me to stop posting, I just stopped. I was a new mom. I am a grieving daughter. I am a growing wife. And while all these things provided an unending supply of topics to post about, I didn't feel like doing it, so I didn't. And my blog went on an unannounced six month hiatus.

However, there is something I'm wrestling with that I need to write about. And I'll warn you, it's not going to be pretty. It might not even make a whole lot of sense. In fact, I'm mostly writing this for me, to try and put some semblance of order to the thoughts tangled up in my head. So if you're reading it, hang on.

And good luck. :)

---

This morning I realized something big. Monumental, even. Here it is.

I've been a "Christian" for what seems like almost my whole life ... (Excuse me while I interrupt myself. I put quotes around the word "Christian" on purpose, because with this morning's realization, my lifelong flimsy excuse for faith came crumbling down. And for the record, I'm not doubting that I'm a Christian, just trying to express how weak and broken of one I am.)

Anyway, here is what I realized. I've been a "Christian" for over 25 years and yet I have literally no idea what faith means, practically speaking. I talk about having faith, but don't know what it looks like to live out my faith. It's like all my life I've had this carefully built, but incredibly fragile front called faith, and once the facade cracks, suddenly it's obvious that there's not much supporting it underneath. And to be honest, that realization scared me. Everything that I thought I knew about life and God and faith is nothing if I cannot articulate why it matters.

My husband has been the catalyst for this realization. For literally the first time in my life, someone is challenging me to dig into my beliefs and "faith" and find it's roots. And sadly what I'm finding is that there's not much there. And honestly, that is a shock to me.

So after some tears and soul searching, he and I spent some time in Scripture, studying what the Bible says about faith. And although I know we are just beginning to scratch the surface, it feels good to finally, after 33 years, be putting some roots down to support my faith.

On the highest level, here are a few of the things I discovered:

• I am a highly emotional person, and consequently, my faith has been 98% emotion-driven. While emotions in and of themselves aren't bad, they have been the entire basis for my faith, and that's bad. Emotions are fickle and ever-changing. Pretty much the opposite of what faith is supposed to be. Therefore, what I have always ascribed to as faith is actually not faith, but a feeling. So I need to learn what real faith is and then figure out how to have it.

• According to what we found in the Bible, faith is, plain and simple, a stubborn belief in something with little or no evidence to support it.

So faith is my belief that Jesus Christ died for my sins. Faith is my belief that I will be with Him when I die (and that my dad is now.) Faith is my belief that He has forgiven me and loves me unconditionally.

Faith is not praying. Faith is not going to church. Faith is not reading the Bible every day. Faith is not what music I choose to listen to, how I spend my time or money, what car I drive or what I choose to eat. And it's not a lot of other things which many Christians call faith.

• Faith and obedience are very closely related. In fact, they're in a circuitous relationship. Faith is the means by which I am able to obey God. And obedience is the evidence of my faith. So basically, I can't obey God without faith. And if I don't obey God, I don't have true faith.

While I know this is the crux of understanding faith, when I try to think about what this means for me, my brain feels like it's ready to explode. I do want to work through this, and I will, but I am at my limit of logical, analytical thinking for today.

It's been rather heart-wrenching and emotionally draining to realize that something I thought was rock solid is actually quite flimsy. And in some ways, I feel like even though I've been practicing for years, I'm still at the very beginning of this whole Christianity thing, trying to figure out what it all means. Like I thought I was a couple decades in and suddenly I find myself back at the starting line.

Also I would like to publicly thank my husband, Chris, who is courageous enough to challenge 33 years of my thinking, along with much of the rest of evangelical Christianity. He is a brave man and I know God put Him in my life to call me to something greater.

I cannot wait to explore what that is.

Clinging to Hope

In my darkest moments of grief, I am bombarded by doubts. I find myself wondering whether it's all a sham ... this whole God thing. I miss my dad terribly and I want more than anything to see him again. I start to wonder if I want this so badly that I am willing to believe anything that tells me I will? Am I clinging to a false hope?

According to Miriam-Webster the definition of the word hope is "to expect with confidence." It is closely related to the words "trust" and "faith." Those three things ... hope, trust and faith are my lifelines. They are what keep me afloat in the rolling waves of grief.

I'm expecting with confidence that I will be with my dad again. I'm trusting that what God promised in His word will happen. I'm clinging to my faith that it's all real - that He's real.

And then a couple days ago Peter smacked some sense into me.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

So I suppose missing my dad is today's trial. I am surely suffering grief, but at least I know it's not meaningless. As awful as it is, if it ultimately results in praise, glory and honor for Jesus Christ, then I'll gladly accept it.

The Truth

Poetic.
Succinct.
Powerful.
Clear.

Best of all ... true.