gratitude

a list of things that i'm thankful for 

grace + discipline

This week I’ve been learning about sin.I know, fun week, right?

To be specific, I’ve been learning about the finer workings of discipline, grace & sin. It’s been hard. Really, deeply & truly unpleasant at times. Living life is far easier if we brush over the concept of sin and ignore our shortcomings. This week was filled with taking a step back to reflect upon sin & the root of it.

I wish I could sit here in this well-worn armchair & write a brilliant analysis of the folly of mankind that concludes with some poetic statement on perfection. But I can’t. I’m still struggling, I’m still sinning, and I’m still falling short. But I’ve gained so much in this week. It’s been fruitful to dig deeper! For one, my cycle of repentance used to look like this.

1. Emma tries on her own strength to follow what He asks
2. Emma inevitably messes up & sins
3. Emma, feeling terrible and guilty, retreats from Him
4. Emma realizes this is the worst
5. Emma seeks grace & repents for sin
6. Repeat.

There are obvious flaws in this system. My past version of discipline often borders upon self-righteous law. I depend upon my own strength, I don’t offer up anxiety to the Lord, I don’t confess sin or struggle to others & I punish myself when I fall short. In the past I’ve sought grace only in the aftermath of failed discipline. In some odd fashion, I was removing Him from the equation. I tried to earn grace & withstand sin on my own strength, something I’m clearly incapable of doing.  I was missing the point.

“The disciplines are God’s way for getting us into the ground; they put us where He can work within us and transform us. By themselves the Spiritual Disciplines can do nothing; they can only get us to the place where something can be done. They are God’s means of grace.” -Richard J. Foster

He pours grace upon grace in the midst of struggle, the aftermath, the fall & the buildup. Discipline is an act of receiving grace & following Him.

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” Galatians 5:1

His grace is not just what follows discipline, it’s what spiritual discipline is built upon. There should be genuine joy in discipline! It opens our hearts towards His will & draws us closer. For that, I will delight in the midst of shortcomings & discipline.

community

To be honest, last year I was seriously lacking in friends.Sure, I knew nice people who would walk to classes or occasionally eat a subpar meal in the dining hall with me. But I missed what I normally shared with people from my hometown or camp.

Call it community, kinship, friendship, fellowship, whatever you want. I was lacking.

I made a few lovely friends (you know who you are) during my fall semester but still felt this empty loneliness.  I was bitter towards the Lord, I felt cheated from my “college experience.” Where were the people who were to share the “best years of my life?” Where were the people that I could go on impromptu road trips on, explore cool coffee shops and share in the victories / hardships of life with?

I’d like to say that things quickly changed, but they didn’t. Basically, things didn’t change until February. In one whirlwind of a night I was introduced to a woman who immediately added me on Facebook and Instagram, got my number and invited me to a small group that met on Tuesday nights. I walked home in tears over how excited I was to finally have female Christian friends.

I regularly attended the group and began to make acquaintances but was reluctant to open up. Looking back, I was so clearly afraid of revealing how much I was struggling, worried that people wouldn’t want to be my friend if they realized how much hurt I was harboring. In my desperate attempts to avoid loneliness, I isolated myself from fellowship.

I continued to attend every gathering of women that I could, hoping that I would somehow feel poured into & known. I grew frustrated with my inability to be vulnerable, feeling like I now had several amazing acquaintances but no true friends. I prayed for a softened heart.

The turning point came in early April, during a small group meeting. We had explored scripture together and were wrapping up the evening with prayer requests. As we went around the circle, I began to notice the openness with which these women were speaking. They confessed to areas of temptation and sin, noted small personal victories and gave genuine answers. They answered with discernment but allowed a level of vulnerability that I couldn’t help but envy. As my turn approached, I debated passing or giving some shallow answer. But I guess that’s not what the Lord had planned.

Instead of being coy, I blurted out, “I’m having a really hard time with what I think might be depression and anxiety. So yeah, prayer for that would be cool.”

Honestly, I was mortified. I could feel my heartbeat start to skyrocket & I knew there was a creeping heat rising up my neck.  I expected silence or awkward half-hearted affirmation. Instead, there were murmurs of comfort and understanding. After the meeting ended, three different people confessed they had struggled similarly. I went home and cried harder than I thought possible.  It was a breakthrough of sorts, one that I will never forget.

As it turns out, this experience wasn’t really unique to just me. As believers, we’re called to this. We’re called to accountability amongst one another. We’re called to prayer & confession & encouragement in group settings, all requiring a level of trust and vulnerability.

“Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise. Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.”  James 5: 13- 16 

The concept alone is somewhat terrifying! It leaves a lot of room for human error but we’re told that this is what the early church was modeled upon. It’s what helps believers feel poured into and helps us walk with accountability. It is a fruitful process, meant to create a support system. It holds us up to a higher standard.

“Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” Hebrews 10: 23 - 25 

This goes beyond the basics; this doesn’t look like the typical idea of friendship. It turns out scripture defines fellowship as something beyond supportive friendships. It’s deeper than briefly checking up on someone from high school. It’s not the connection between people who occasionally wish for the other’s well-being.

 So what is fellowship?

“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” Romans 12: 9 – 12

It is intentionally meeting with one another. It is praying over those who are suffering. It is rejoicing with those who are rejoicing. It is confessing sins to one another. It is forgiving those who have sinned. It is holding fast to the teachings of Jesus. It is holding each other to a standard. It is genuinely love.  It is brotherly affection. It is honoring one another. It is putting forth effort.

This isn’t an easy process. This clear request leaves me with anxiety over my own brokenness. It leaves me with worrying that others will judge me. But as one of my wisest friends once said, “What is man compared to God?” So I’m moving forward.

This semester has held noticeable differences in my fellowship with others. It looks like confessing sin while eating mocha popsicles near a lake. It looks like intentionally meeting once a week at coffee shops to talk about my walk. It takes place on car rides, phone conversations and tear-eyed prayer. It looks like people calling me out & lifting me up, offering truth and vulnerability in turn. Who cares if I lose respect or comfort in the process? The things I may lose in cannot compare to knowing Him.

So here’s towards the awkward growing period of confession. Here’s to the vulnerability that we all are simultaneously drawn to and terrified of.  Here’s to following Him through our kinship with one another.

To those who model this in my life, thank you.

take comfort in identity

One of the funniest things about journaling is the process of looking back & seeing how I’ve grown. The start of college, and how I’ve grown since then, has been a clear starting point of change. As I’ve mentioned in my previous post, I’ve grown & struggled through the past year while balancing following Him and embarking on a path to healing.Perhaps the biggest of changes that I’ve noticed is my self presentation. Experiencing mental illness for the first time has left me with the unusual inability to truly describe myself as I once have.

In the past I would describe myself as introspective, emotional, maternal and optimistic. But now? I struggle to know my own emotions, so introspective is gone. Emotional? Oh yes, that’s stayed, but now seems well beyond my control. I am so concerned with my own hurt that I struggle to offer comfort to friends & family, so my maternal instincts are rusty at best. And optimistic? Hello depression.

So now I’m left with this odd habit of disassociating my current personality with what I’ve been for the past nineteen years of my life. This basically looks like a lot of, “I’m sorry! I’m not normally like this!”

Mental illness has also reshaped how I identify my days. I’ve gotten good at judging which days will be “good” or “bad” the moment I awake. I define myself through what level of productivity I experience in a day.

So according to all my convoluted systems of judging my own performance, yesterday was a good day! I went to both my classes, remembered to eat regular meals, walked over two miles in a sundress, enjoyed a sunset, studied in a coffee shop alone for three hours, talked to an old friend & cleaned my dishes. But sometimes the littlest things can turn the intended good into an unpredictable spiral. It was a good day, until I decided to do laundry.

I have seriously been needing to do laundry. For a while. So I lugged a laundry basket up a flight of stairs & set my mind to finishing within two hours. Well, those two hours turned into seven, a broken dryer and a fair deal of frustrated tears.

I began to weigh a simple mistake (overloading the washer) and something I could not control (a broken dryer) more than an entire day of hark work & growth. I behaved irrationally & emotionally.

I thought I needed comfort. Instead someone told me, “Emma. I love you but you’re being irrational.” They continued on to say something that made me realize that the Lord was speaking straight through them.

“This isn’t you.”

All too often I define myself through my accomplishments or personality. And those are valid ways in which I can relate to others & make my intentions known. But they are not my ultimate identity!

I am not my mental illness. I am not my to-do list for the day. I am not my emotional state. 

I am a child of Christ. I am redeemed & set free. That is my ultimate identity. Failing to meditate upon this does nothing but hurt me. It forces me to take steps back on my healing process. It leads to co-dependency & pain to those around me. It limits my witness, places a strain on my trust in my Father and is a result of lies that the enemy feeds me.

I am thankful for the people in my life who remind me of who I am truly am. You know who you are.

“We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.” Romans 15: 1- 2 

So hello there, my name is Emma. I am loved, redeemed and set free. I am healing & broken. I place my weakness at His feet & draw close. I am His child and He has called me His. 

a season for dwelling

This past season, the Lord has been speaking to me in the loudest & clearest voice I’ve ever known. I, far too often, try to discredit the validity of His voice. I assume it’s my own subconscious behaving oddly or it’s a series of strange events pointing to coincidence. But I’ve heard Him. I’ve heard Him through conversations by a lake, pastors on Sunday mornings, my boyfriend’s jokes, sermons from atop a worn-down stage, poems in leather books, the testimonies of strangers, my family members, letters from another state and the songs I play at night. He has been heard through all the things that color my life, clearing away any uncertainty in what I’m hearing. He has been speaking, uttering the same simple thing over and over again.

“Stay.”

Stay. a verb (used without object)
1. to spend time in a place, in a situation, with a person or group, etc:

He’s telling me to stand still and wait, to dwell in this place with these people for some time. I’ve never been called to dwell before. My whole life I’ve wandered, stretching my experiences across the farthest corners I can find. I’ve spent my life traveling sparatically, following a convoluted path to find Him. But never dwelling, oh no.

Many would think, “That’s incredible, what a blessing it must be, to hear the Lord so clearly that there is not a space left for doubt,” or quite possibly, “What an easy thing He’s asking of you! It would be refreshing to stay put for a while.” Ah, if only it were so simple.

I’ve dwelt here for a year now. My experience with dwelling in this place has brought me the deepest sadness I have ever known. I have found my disposition lost in the midst of grief & anxiety. Don’t get me wrong, my time here has not just been a bleak existance of grey moments. I’ve forged fruitful friendships, become accquainted with spectacular coffee shops, fallen in love, joined an incredible ministry and enjoyed new-found independence in living away from home. But my time here, in moments good and bad, has been permeated with this slinking sort of apathy to what once brought me joy.

To sum it all up, He wants me here but I don’t want to listen. It’s the first time in my life that I’ve so clearly disagreed with the Lord. I feel like a petulant child (because let’s be honest that’s what I am right now) complaining about her Father asking her to some unpleasant chore.

I was reading through scripture recently and stumbled across this passage:

“Hear my prayer, O Lord;
give ear to my please for mercy!
In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness!
Enter not into judgment with you
servant,
for no one living is righteous before you.

For the enemy has pursued my soul;
he has crushed my life to the ground;
he has made me sit in darkness like those
long dead.
Therefore my spirit faints within me;
my heart within me is appalled.

I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all that you have done;
I ponder the work of your hands.
I stretch out my hands to you;
my soul thirst for you like a parched land.

Answer me quickly, O Lord!
I have fled to you for refuge.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God!
Let your good Spirit lead me
on level ground!”
Psalms 143: 1-10

The words of a king from thousands of years ago spoke straight to my soul. I felt as if I was left for dead in a place I didn’t know with an appalled heart and withering spirit. I too, had my life crushed into the ground. My closeted bitterness reared its ugly head, looking for someone or something to lash out upon. But the scripture doesn’t end in misery or grief. David moves past his grief and acknowledges the Lord as provider and protector.

This passage was an all to real reminder of where I fall short. I have pleaded with the Lord, I have reflected on my own sense of misery but I’ve missed the real point.

I am not promised understanding.

I am promised refuge in Him. I am promised the salvation that comes through the blood of His son. I am promised plans & forgiveness, I am promised a love that does not end when my time on earth is over.

In my dwelling, I am drawing closer to the Lord. I desire the comfort that only my Father can bring to me. The sweetest of joy is made so in the context of bitter suffering. Here’s to growing closer to that triumph.

“You who have made me see many
troubles and calamities
will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth
you will bring me up again.
You will increase my greatness
and comfort me again.”
Psalms 71:20-21

autumn + beginning

I’d taken a small break from writing (at least publicly) in order to enter into a new year of school with a clear mindset. The past posts are now of a more private nature, the platform is cleaned up and  I’m happy to be back to writing.

So hello friends, welcome to a small corner shaped piece of my life. I guess I’ll begin this little journey by explaining what I hope to get out of / experience / share.

• I hope to become a more honest version of myself. Reflection is incredibly important to me, I hope to reflect upon my life & the events within it with a fair sense of vulnerability and clarity. 
• I hope to have a record of what’s going on in my life right now.
• I hope to share in a community of people, both new and old friends. I want to  connect, to push forward & grow in spirit. 
• I hope to create an environment in which I may speak freely, honestly & creatively. 

That’s all I have for now. Thanks for checking this out, I’ll see you soon.