my non-Christmas spirit and the obligatory yet unplanned end-of-the-year post.

the obligatory year-end post but not really

this post was not planned and anyway this year i am not doing anything obligatory for Christmas.

no planned Christmas light shows, concerts, eve, gifts or carols.

i have read (or at least saved in my read-later list-which rarely gets read, like all of yours if you're honest) all of the reminiscent introspective melancholic end-of-2014 posts that showed up in my news feed. and even then, the competitive spirit of writing one of my own did not kick in.

partly because of my work schedule, obviously the rookie always gets to work Christmas, which is expected. expected is always less traumatic.
partly because of practical reasons like computers bought as gifts because they were needed two weeks ago, florida trips being planned and payed for before Christmas when the tickets were cheap. come to think of it, i could have wrapped all that and put it under a tree and abided by the spirit of the season.
so as i am writing this, i realize that the truth is maybe i really am not in the spirit of the season. the slumber of the competitive spirit may just be the 8th criterion in the DSM IV of depression.

the spirit of the season. i have done the lights and the gifts and the carols before, simultaneously listening to sermons and podcasts telling me that this is not what the season is about. and i nodded, and agreed and still planned outings and took part in the obligatory fun. not putting it down, i mean it was fun and i felt i belonged to the world around me. and i sure hope to do it again next year or next decade, whatever.

but his year God made me stop. MADE me. and gave me His spirit.

see i believe he talks to each one of us, if we listen. and he talks differently to each. depending on how we are wired. elementary my dear watson, right, he has done the wiring. not so easy to believe though.

i am not good at following rules and making wise decisions and He knows that. i am not good at changing my way of life because i agree with a commandment, even if it convicts me. essentially i am not good at repenting and obeying. He has to make me. He has to speak firmly in my ear and He knows it.
in fact He knew this about me before i realized it. He knew this about me even as i was patting my self proudly on the back for "getting" this whole repentance-obedience-submission deal down. i thought i had nailed it.

until i faintly asked him to speak. half desiring it or maybe even less that half. really i just wanted my plans to work out if possible, but by then i didn't have the stamina to make it happen. and those of you who know me, know it takes a lot to run out the stamina.

i asked Him to speak because of the fog in my eyes and the tumult in my ears and the tears in my head. as my plans were crumbling down and i had no more desires to hide in, no more plans to build on, and no more directions to build a reputation towards.
God waited for me to erect all my castles on the sand, waited until all the rejections were delivered and the disappointments exploded, waited until all the coffee was drunk and my head was pounding, until all my adrenaline had run out and my body was exhausted and my eyes were tearful yet defiant. waited until a child ( that i was babysitting) was screaming at the top of her lungs, inconsolable and terrifying, to break all my pedestals and the fences i didn't know i had built, and made me talk to him.

in arabic no less, because in that state who can think in multiple languages. in arabic because its the language of the scared and disappointed child in me, and the language of the angry rebel. not just talking but singing in arabic because it sounds even more sarcastic and irreverent and insubordinate. and also because He knew it would also calm the screaming baby and put her back to sleep.
hopefully someone is laughing by now because really, it was a pretty ridiculous situation. yet so finely orchestrated.

and there started my week of just throwing myself into His arms and His word and memorizing experiencing His presence and reading and enjoying Him and missing Him and running back. really not trying to sound holy here, all of the above have been on my to-do list but never really got done.
because i and we profess to know that He will be there when everything crumbles and that sounds great, but really we are hoping nothing crumbles and we can just stash Him as a very expensive insurance contract in some dusty drawer.

Jesus was born for our sins, but really, the social calendar of Christmas is not an ideal time to ask for sin to be revealed. not when you have all these cards to address. the immeasurable gift of God is what is to be revered but surely, after i'm done with all my social activities to put me in the spirit of the season. that was me, and i suppose will probably be me again, but even if i will just realize it just this one time, i am thankful for this revelation of destructive and blind irony.

and because He delights in giving gifts, because He knows that there is no gift bigger and more enjoyable than Himself but yet He knows that i still doubt and ask questions, He has pointed my attention to everything else He's doing and letting me be a part of.

like the kids that i took care of at church last year who randomly run to me with love and a smile and a hug when i thought that they had no clue who i was, and that serving these two hours a week at church really didn't matter all that much.
like the letter from a patient who i took care of at 11 pm on a weekend, the memory of whom had drowned beneath my fatigue and sleep deprivation, and complaints of a difficult schedule.
like friends expressing that they felt loved and cared for, when i figured that i had just written another antibiotic prescription, no big deal.

so this year has been a roller coaster of jobs and graduations and travel and athletic feats and deepening friendships and mended relationships. mountains that seemed insurmountable until He got me through and the landscape looked beautiful from the other side. trust that wavered when the next hill was in sight. sour relationships and disappointed hopes and wasted time in my book.

what if another lesson for me was to measure time not by the achievement of the end result that i had planned, but by what God has shown me about Him on the way. what if the whole point of failed relationships was to strengthen mine to Him.

i have heard him whisper in my ear and i even wondered why he doesn't try to sound clearer. elementary again, but God has been screaming in the world and in my heart for years. i am thankful that the sound fog lifts a little year after year. i am thankful that i am looking forward to hearing him clearly, His voice and not the echo that my sinful heart blocks and deforms.

this has been so far the most real Christmas season, spirit, joy and peace that i have experienced. i will look forward to the plaza lights and a wrapped gifts next year but this year, i feel i've caught a glimpse of real.joy. which still feels funny considering the actual practical debacle of some circumstances.

and this post that i was not planning to write just had to be written, as a testimony to the immeasurable love, the faithfulness, the strength, the delicate planning, the power, the kindness, the tenderness, the presence of God this year, that just exploded this Christmas in the firework of an intricately weaved plan. that is but a mere glimpse of the glimpse of the glimpse of His plan, from everlasting to everlasting. 

the unexpected chronicles of singleness part two: the statistical significance

are you tired of running inside the house at the last minute to put mascara on because you might run into him at the grocery store?

are you tired of the frustration of not running into him at the coffee shop after you just spent two hours pretending to read while glancing at both doors every time they squeaked? sitting on your judiciously positioned seat, stolen after the near-tackling of an old lady, with your bible sitting on the table but partially covered by a french essay on neo-impressionism, to broadcast how godly-with-a-hint-of-cultured you are?

are you tired of probing through every tainted car window, every restaurant patio, are you tired of probing through every piece of information and building a crumbling tower of certainties?

are you tired of running through the list of why this time, this one, it fits right, this has to be it.
the pieces fit. the pieces you know of fit. the pieces you may have made up fit. the pieces you are not choosing to ignore fit. the pieces minus the red flags fit.
this has to be it right? i mean you have overshot the quota of not-the-one a while ago. you are holding on to the statistical light at the end of the tunnel. your turn. your reward for being patient.


if there is a #guynumber(?) for you, God doesn't need to find him, God has already made him. If there is a #guynumber(?) for you, God can direct his steps to that café, or that art fair, or through that church pew. if there is a #guynumber(?) for you, God will place the desire to pursue you in his heart. if there is a #guynumber(?) for you, you don't need to manipulate his way into knowing you, God will make him learn you

God can choose from a trillion scenarios that you cannot even imagine, in perspectives that exist beyond your awareness, in colors you cannot fathom and words as clear and soft as a stream in the sunshine of a middle eastern summer day.

so stop. rest. exhale. turn off the turbines. recover your 15% of brain power from unlikely imaginary scenes, where your identity wobbles between a variety of women who are not you.

you know how they tell you to look-up-from-your-phone-facebook-stalking of  #guynumber1 because you may be missing your true love right around the corner?

as it seems i have committed to pursue this terrible and manipulative advice into the realm of truth, I would tell you. brutally. truthfully. lovingly.

#guynumber(?) may never happen

#guynumber(?) will not be your true love
your true love is not around the corner.

your true love is right here beside you
your true love is sitting across from you on that lonely manipulative table at the coffee shop.
he whispers poetry that pierces your soul and sings words of comfort that delight your heart and only in the embrace of his arms-stronger and softer than any embrace you've ever imagined- will you finally sigh in relief and safety and joy.
your true love loved you first, before you ever acknowledged his existence, before every disdainful look you threw at him as you were getting ready for your dates.
your true love has pursued you through valleys of death and darkness and has slain every dragon.

your true love has his jealous eyes on you, and he wants you.
you, all of you, without your makeup, without your flirty act and your personality adjustments.
your true love is zealous for your good.
you are loved, you are wanted, you are cherished, you are deeply known. you belong.

so trust His plan
trust Him who holds all your tomorrows.
even when it feels like it's not the story you would've written

after all, this is not your story.



many thanks to the women who have heard my stories, who have shared their stories and whose wise counsel was adapted above





 

shame and glory

well hello there. 

polite smile, and furtive glance.

re-reading old posts leaves me embarrassed, shocked and a little angry at myself.

what was i thinking, pouring excited, wannabe/think-I-am mature thoughts all over the web. tortured-fleeting-ideas-and-epiphanies. who-am-I-even-talking-to-except-myself. conceited, really.

what were my friends thinking? someone should have called me out on the incomprehensible mumbo-jumbo.

yes yes I know we are harder on ourselves than other people are. but really we're not.

today i am thankful that Jesus died in the muddy pit where i have merely calculated the judgments others may cast, the image, i may have projected and the reassurance i may obtain through the manipulation of re-evaluation.

today i sit looking back amazed at the mighty work He has done while i haven't been online (or onblog, please forgive the pun-ttempt)

a work of silence that i thought i controlled, because of the to-do lists that controlled me. a work of shifting perspectives. how is He going to, how He is using this very moment.

i rarely review the notes i write on fancy little kate spade notebooks.  it is easy to not reassess how misguided, immature and weak one's brain-one's faith : was-is. but i did re-read previous posts out of concern for an image. and He used it to show me that He has been at work.

should a potentially conceited public display of random thoughts continue on the transparent pages of the web, i will likely re-read in a few months-or tomorrow- and realize the immaturity of the now, that i am presently celebrating.

dead flesh wants to despair and lament that i will never be a complete work, an intellectual adult, a successful communicator et j'en passe...
new creation celebrates the Glory. the overwhelming Glory of One who is complete. for me. One who defeated the abyss and meets me in the muddy pit. who loves to refine and change.while i am busy kicking and fighting and neatly tying a blindfold around my head and my heart, the One who opens my eyes to what matters, to Him who matters.

months have passed and things have happened and i haven't kept up and guilt has crept in. where have i been? where have you been? have i arrived yet?can you change that too? i've done so well. when is my turn?

He has made me rely.
He has made me follow
He has used the wilderness and answered prayers and not answered others.
He has given gifts.
He has met me where i have questioned the number and quality of gifts, even the design of the wrapping paper.
He is meeting me where i know i need to grow, He is pulling me where i didn't know that i needed to grow.
He has molded, changed priorities, landscapes and foundations.

He uses my embarrassment for His glory.