Ecological Systems Analysis

Discussion:
“Revisiting the Virginia Tech shootings: An Ecological Systems Analysis”

Alexis Bird & Rebecca Graham

Instructions: Work with your assigned partner to complete the worksheet below. Post your final worksheet on one partner’s blog, with both names, for class comments and discussion.

1.            Work first on your own to apply the human ecological model to o the Virginia Tech shooting.  Focus on the individual shooter, Seung-Hui Cho. In the first row, fill in the factors present at each level that increased Cho’s risk of perpetrating violence. 

2.            Compare your results with your assigned partner.  Together, modify the first row of the table so it represents your best thinking as a team.

3.            With your partner, discuss what intervention or prevention strategies could have been implemented at each level to prevent the tragedy from happening.  Use the theory to guide your thinking.  Briefly summarize these strategies in the second row.

4.            Together, answer the question following the table, but indicate each person’s answer by name.

Post only one copy of this worksheet on one of your blogs, but with both students’ names.

	Micro	Meso	Exo	Macro	Chrono
Seung-Hui Cho Individual	(a) He was male (b) he came from a culture of strong gender roles (c) mental health issues, including anxiety, social immaturity, and poor social skills (d) isolated himself from family due to lack of communication and quality time with parents (e) peer victimization and racial stereotypes	(a) lack of communication about peer relationships to family and vice versa; two micro systems had poor association	(a) Media coverage of school shootings, leading to admiration for the perpetrators	(a) mental health was culturally shamed (b) language barriers in mental health treatment (c) conflict between Asian American values and United States mental health system (d) lack of affordable health care (e) poor communication regarding available mental health treatment (f) access to guns for those with mental illness (g)	(a) immigration from South Korea to United States (b)
Intervention and Prevention Strategies	Family therapy to discourage the isolation behaviors and encourage functional family activities that will assist in development of social skills	Family therapy to discourage the isolation behaviors and encourage functional family activities that will assist in development of social skills	Education regarding  mental health issues and how to locate assistance	Screening programs designed to limit access to guns for those with mental illnesses Additional mental healthcare programs that are affordable	Immigration preceptorships to provide immigrants or new citizens with individuals/families that acclimate them to US culture, laws, values, etc.

5.            How would the PPCT further illuminate what happened to Cho and how intervention/prevention strategies might be used?

Alexis: The interaction between the process-person-place-time makes a big difference when you consider them all together. Considering the different cultures Cho had to adapt to across different parts of his development when he migrated with his family and the person he became through these changes can explain a great deal of his maladjustment. When you also take into account how both of those interact with his family relationships and peer relationships you get an event more clear picture. Interventions to help Cho adjust to the culture difference and to teach his family the importance, and shamelessness, of getting help for mental illness may have drastically improved his changes of adjusting better after his migration. Although he was already pretty withdrawn in South Korea, putting these practices in place for immigrants may have prevented the development of mental instability and eventual violent behavior.

6.            Explain in the space below how this theory helped or didn’t help you understand the shootings and how such incidents might be prevented.

Alexis: The theory helped me understand the shootings by providing explanations of various aspects of Cho’s adjustment and personality. It explained the way each part of his life and his circumstances contributed to his instability. The culture aspect was very eye-opening as it illuminated the way his culture shamed mental issues and combined with the United States’ poor mental healthcare system created a breeding ground for maladjustment. 

My history, my confession.

I am a different person, completely. There is no question about it. The past year has changed the way I view myself and the world so many times and in so many ways. Let's start from the beginning... Or, the beginning of the chaos.

When I was in middle school my depression began. I felt lost and uneased. I expected to feel free, and it was admittedly nice to be in a school where I was not made fun of for doing my best and being intelligent, but I still did not quite fit in. I kept a smile on my face and fine tuned my sense of humor to keep others laughing, even when I was ready to vomit with anxiety. I was afraid of being rejected so much that I often spent days with stomach aches because a word with a mildly negative connotation was spoken toward me. I engaged in self-mutilation and suicide attempts, which I kept secret. Looking back, I think I was liked. I still have friends from that time and people still find me on Facebook to catch up.

In high school, I was so content. I was confident because I had friends who loved me and I actually fit in. Most of my friends were in another school, but I spent a lot of time with them on weekends. We had fun, shared the same sense of fun and humor. I had my moments of insecurities, but I had a second family, the family of a guy I loved.  We were together for nearly 3 years and even though we fought sometimes and disagreed on some things, we were good together. When we broke up my right before Senior year, I thought I would never love someone again. I was sure of it from the utter, heart-wrenching devastation I felt (in fact, I didn't get over that feeling until over 3 years later). All my friends moved away for college, and I felt lost and alone. That's when I made friends with a few guys who made me feel loved, at ease, good. We had fun and I could be myself-- silly things like candle-light Dominos dinner. My Senior year was wonderful.

College... well, starting college was hard. I nearly lost a boyfriend to suicide. I played the part of his parent, his teacher, his friend, his girlfriend... it became too much for me to handle, and when I received a suicide letter, I felt my heart ripped out of my chest and lay broken on the floor until I heard news of his survival. I wondered if I did the right thing, if I was being punished for pursuing what I felt God had led me to do. Maybe I was wrong and I wasn't in the right place. As my college years went on, I continued in my faith and I grew out of my anger. I had many epiphanies and grew greatly. I was confident in my skills and believed in a future. It wasn't easy, having 3 jobs, being in a leadership position, and going to school full-time.

It wasn't until college came to a close that my life spiraled completely out of control. As much of a mess as I thought I was before, I was still pretty far from the bottom. I got into a relationship where I thought I met the perfect man. He was younger than me, which was surprisingly new for me. Perfect date. Perfect body. Perfect intelligence. Christian, but down to Earth. I lost my virginity, what I always held so, so close to my heart. I instantly felt horrified and cried on his bathroom floor for a good hour. Then I just decided to stand by him, fight for us. Maybe he would be my husband one day. Sex can just be for him. Then he left me after only a couple months because I was emotionally unstable. Found out I had a miscarriage and bled for 22 days straight, nearly needing a blood transfusion. I survived it. I moved on. Got into a relationship with a man 11 years my elder. He had a good mind, we agreed on some big ideas. We dated and had sex. I decided sex was just for someone I loved. For a year. As time went on, I felt very emotionally abused. Everything I did was wrong. My feelings were unjustified. I felt too much or not enough. I was limited in the amount of time I could spend with my friends. They didn't like him and he didn't like them. He didn't want company. He didn't like me traveling without him. I was trapped. I was convinced nobody would love me better so I stayed. We moved to a city where I did not know a soul. Started a new life. Got more miserable. Cheated on him with a person who ended up using me for nothing more than sex. When I finally left, he threw my stuff outside and I had to live with a coworker til I could get my own place. I was diagnosed as bipolar. Ended up with FWBs and temporary boyfriends. My sex partners went from 2 to 12 in six months. I tried to make it mean something, but most of the time it didn't. I wanted to enjoy sex while I could before my disease took that away along with the prospect of childbearing. My last relationship was just me being used by a man-- for my honesty, my trust, my money. my affection.

I was miserable. Lost. Alone. Afraid. Hopeless.

I hit rock bottom one night when I was on my ass drunk. I was with a guy I'd spent time with many times, hung out with and knew he cared about me. I never would have dated him, but we had fun. We usually stayed at my house but this night I went to his house under the condition of no pot and no strangers because I didn't like who he was with his friends. Once I was already under the influence, people I didn't know came over. I had a severe asthma attack and felt like I was dying in the bathroom. They put me in a warm shower to help clear my airways and took off my clothes. Eventually, I ended up laying on the bed, too drunk to move but still aware of my body. Everybody had left but my friend and a random person who had joined the group. I heard the guys talking, basically the black guy asking how much to have sex with me and the guy I knew considering it before saying he wanted me for himself. Unfortunately, the guy I knew was so high and drunk that he became almost completely unaware of himself or what he was saying/doing. The new guy pushed his limits, from sexual assault to rape within minutes. I didn't move because I knew I couldn't fight him off-- I was too drunk. I waited for the guy I knew to say something, to kick him out, to fight with him. Something. Anything. But he didn't. When the black guy finally left, I got up and screamed at the guy I knew. I threw stuff. I was angry. I asked him how he dare let somebody do that to me, how he could not defend me. He didn't believe me. Called me names. Said I was a liar. I tried to find my keys and my phone to get away, to leave. I couldn't. So I ran naked down to a neighbor who called the police.

I was at the end of my rope, utterly and completely broken. My life felt over. My body fought my mind through suicidal thoughts. I fought anxiety, didn't want to leave the house. Didn't want to see people again. My family and friends took care of me, doted over me, loved me, hugged me-- were more incredibly compassionate than I ever knew.

It was my family and my friends who kept me here and got me through it. I ended up shortly after meeting a man. I was falling for him quick, and I felt guilty and weird that I was. I felt like my life should be over, that I shouldn't be surviving this drop to the bottom so quickly. Shouldn't I be lost longer? Why am I not dying of shame and anger and resentment?

I realized that I would never have been in that position if I hadn't drank. I would have left when things started feeling wrong. I would have been able to leave without being intoxicated. I would have been able to think straight and find my keys. I would have been able to fight back. There were so many places in the night that things could have been completely different. So I had found a way to move on. I found a solution, something to blame, so to speak. I don't have to be scared anymore because I won't be in that position again. Then, I realized that, even though in part of my mind and in the mind of everybody who knew of my rape it was way soon, I felt completely in love. This man and I shared the same ideals, political views, parental views. We'd had similar histories with our past relationships. We both always had to be mature for our age. We had the same love language, relationship style. He was incredible intelligent and talented. He was an awesome father of a sweet 6-year-old who soon adored me. He was cute and sweet. He was perfect. He was my boyfriend and I was head over heels in love with Christopher Bird.

We are now engaged with a wedding date set and a venue booked. In only 5 months, I went from rock bottom to my highest high. I have a family. My parents love him and have realized how incredible he is and how he makes me feel. It's quick, I know. But within a week of knowing him, my heart took a leap and I knew he was the one God sent to help heal my brokenness. He is the greatest support. He adores me and I am the best me when I am with him. He makes me want to be a better person, a stronger person, a stable person. The dream I always had of being with someone who made me feel completely comfortable being myself and having a child and a home and a life together-- it was finally true. In my spiral, I had given up on that dream. Now, I am living it. And it is so blessed. And it is so good.

So to those who are judging me for jumping into an engagement too quickly, I want you to know that I understand where you are coming from. If I was looking at someone doing the same thing, I might very well want to tell them the same things you're telling me.

 But with my life, with my past and the path I stumbled down... finally being happy and being me without shame after feeling the ultimate shame... I will take this chance. I will be in love and I will build my life. And I will be proud. I will use my past as my strength. I will put every ounce of my being into being the best person I can. Please do not put a timeline or limits to when I can become who I am meant to be just because you don't understand it.

Needs and Wants

Somewhere around a year ago, a very good friend made a comment leading to a huge personal revelation. At first, I was insulted at the implications but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was undeniably true:
I have a pathological need to be needed.

I am attracted to distraught people. In some ways, I blame it on my own period of extreme brokenness. I felt so lost and alone and I never want anybody to feel that way.
I would rather be the person they can count on, to sacrifice for them to
keep them from ever doubting
the existence of love. 

If we look at my past relationships, they mostly focus on me providing a need for the other person. Anything from encouraging self-confidence to giving them a place to live to paying for their school. Fortunately, almost all of these people respected me enough that they didn't "use and abuse me." They were always grateful.

I felt significant.
I felt important.
I felt fulfilled.

Fast forward to a very recent addition to this revelation.

In addition to wanting to provide for others what I felt I was denied, I think my maternal instinct in a way factors into the equation. The whole being a provider thing. Also, that is a huge way I show my love and affection for others.

Even greater than this... I realized this morning as I was putting my contacts in to start my day:
I have a pathological need to be needed
because
I'm afraid I'll never just be wanted.

I've been told many times, "stop finding someone who needs you and find somebody who wants you."

And, of course, I absolutely theoretically and philosophically agree.
So why don't I do that?

Because I've never been kept around just because someone wants me.
Friends, yes, they some have.
But in romance?
Not really.
At least, it has never felt that way.

I want to be with somebody who does not need me, but appreciates what I offer.
I want to be with somebody who loves me and wants to be with me.
Just because they think I'm awesome.

I just have a deep-rooted fear that me--just me-- will ever be enough.


I have no deep revelation for how to get over this because, well... I just don't know how to change it. I like being needed. I'd love to be wanted for more than that. Just something to work on, I suppose.

Honesty

I have done a lot of thinking today because I'm feeling very distraught from the epitome of cognitive dissonance, if you will. I don't like talking about specific situations on a published blog. I prefer it be simple and thought-provoking unless the story really adds to the meaning. In this case, the situation leading me to think so deeply is less important than the thoughts to which it has led.

I think something people tend to believe/feel --be it due to society or television or friends or advise-givers, I don't know where it originates-- that when somebody calls you out on something, the only chance you have of surviving is to lie. Like, "if I confess that his/her concern is legitimate, it will be over instantly. At least if I lie, I have a chance of getting through it."

It really is an interesting idea
to choose to become something you are not
to express feelings you do not have
to state events that have not occurred
all in order to "keep peace."
To me, it is a perfect display of cowardice.

If anybody has followed my writings for any period of time, I am convinced he or she would notice my lack of mainstream conceptualizations.

I see things much different;
or perhaps I am one of few who will express thoughts honestly.

Regardless, I am about to do it again. 

As usual, this is MY VIEW.
My view from the depth of my heart in the most honest words I could possibly express in this exact moment (i.e., one day it might change when I gain more understanding and wisdom).

Lying is the most repulsive, pointless, and excruciatingly disturbing thing a person can do to somebody they care about.

Period.

When somebody points out a concern or a realization or asks a question,
the instant thought should not be
        "lying is my only chance"
but rather
        "being honest is my only chance."

There have been multiple people in my past that I have been very close to, strong emotional bond, immense trust... and when something came up, when I voiced a concern, they either played dumb or straight up lied.

I give people the benefit of the doubt and give everybody a chance.
I always will -- and perhaps that's my flaw.

The problem is nobody seems to think the way I do and it always puts me in bad situations.
Honesty is so important.

I would go so far as to forgive somebody for cheating on me if only they were honest.
"Honey, I have been interested in talking to this other person and said some things I shouldn't have said to both of you at the same time. But I want to be with you, it's over with her, please forgive me."

Sure, it will be a challenge, but I would forgive it.
We would move on.

But if I was to find out about it through other means, to find out somebody had a lapse of reason and kissed another girl, or told her he was considering her as more than friends and confront him about it--
lying to me will hands-down, without a doubt be the exact moment our relationship ends. 

We won't be together.
We won't be friends.
We won't recover from hostility and resentment.

And, to add an even more personal element to this confession, every time these situations come up is when I've decided to take a chance in overcoming bitterness/fear/cynicism. It is one of the most depressing things I have ever experienced: to take a chance in trusting someone who seems sure of what they want but turns out having no idea until it is too late.
Sure, I can respect the fear that might lead to lying sounding like a good idea...
but just don't.
Don't.
Do not.
It will kill everything in the end.



"I can always find someone to say they sympathize
if I wear my heart out on my sleeve.
But I don't want some pretty face to tell me pretty lies.
All I want is someone to believe.
Honesty is such a lonely word.
Everyone is so untrue.
Honesty is hardly ever heard,
and mostly what I need from you."
Honesty -- Billy Joel

Meaning of Spirituality

I lost my grandma a few months ago in a very, very painful way (and I’m sure I’ll be posting about that soon since her birthday is coming up). A few days ago, a friend I don’t speak with frequently at all posted on Facebook that his grandmother was passing away and he was broken-hearted. We spoke for a little while about how to get through the pain losing somebody we loved so dearly.

 

Something I told him had me thinking a lot. It was more like a revelation as it came out of my fingertips as I typed to him. I believe that there is something bigger, that our spirits are connected. Sometimes our spirits reach out for something and we don’t even know it. We are flawed and our brains can’t always tell us what we want—but our spirit knows what we need. Our spirit is who we are, and it isn’t afraid to reach out to get what it needs. We are responding to something we didn’t know was even there but it ends up being perfect. 

This got me thinking about the comfort I received from people I have known, the way their spirit touched mine in such an extraordinary way. Three people really came to mind when I thought about it, and it can’t be overlooked that I knew them all from the same ministry. In addition to making me love and respect these people more, this revelation has been about how much hope Campus to City Wesley has given to people like me.

 

The first person that came to mind was a display of love.

Derrick Scott. There was always something incredibly endearing and comforting about his presence. He always had a joy in his eye when he saw people and spoke with them. Even though he always had something on his mind, I always felt important when I saw him because you could always see the respect, joy, and love in his eyes. I can remember a number of times, both at individual coffee meetings and at community nights, where the minute he saw me he smiled and his eyes lit up. No, it wasn’t romantic and I never thought that, but it was just beautiful and comforting to see the way he cared that I was there and hoped I was well. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody else whose genuine eyes impacted me so much.

The next person who came to mind was a display of acceptance and a lack of judgementalness.

Katherine Card. She was a comfort to be around because she didn’t judge, she just comforted and loved. She always had some kind of joy and peace in her eyes, too. She was sometimes distracted with school and struggled with believing in herself. But she was always sweet and loving. The way she held herself, her laughter, her eyes. She was somebody I thought about what she would think about my decisions, and I wondered if I should tell her, not because she judged me but because I kinda didn’t want to let her down. She was genuine and humble in a way that was remarkable, and it didn’t make me feel judged.

Finally, somebody came to mind that seemed to really display joy and peace.

Christina Gonzalez. She went through a lot in her past and in her heart, but she always displayed joy and peace. She was somebody who walked in a room and her laughter lifted my spirits. She was optimistic and sweet. She was very understanding and listened very intently, responded to what you said. But she brought a comfort of happiness. I can remember telling her about a heartbreak, and yet somehow the brokenness went away and I felt joy just being around her. Something about her presence just calmed my spirit and what had me feeling so broken felt so light.

 

It is a miracle to me how my spirit finds what it needs. We are all flawed, myself and these people too. But when you value your spirit and feed it the right positive nourishment, it’s amazing the impact you can make on others.

 

Derrick, Katherine, and Christina are all people who will be the first to admit their faults and fears, but their spirit is genuine and loving. I miss them and I miss the way my soul was comforted when I was with them. I never realized how important this was. I want to bring peace to others’ souls, to be the comfort that others’ souls seek.

The presence of people who value that reminds you that there’s nothing better than allowing God to work through you in that way.

 

They’re encouragement. 

And I value them very much.

Religious Freedom

I am what you might call a Christian. I am hardly an example of what has become the predominant image of so. The title is detested on some level by “non-believers” and accepted by most “believers.” The difference is there is so much more to my beliefs than that which is given by this title. As people get to know me, the tables turn. I am treated as a person by non-Christians and treated as a blasphemer by Christians.* It has led me to decide that the causes that we fight have taken precedence over the command to love.  I have blogged and/or posted many times countering typical radical Christian views. Here is another.

I first want to start with a look at politics within Biblical scripture. It was always in the form of monarchy, or dictatorship, never truly as a republic or democracy. There was one leader. A king. But in the U.S. we are designed as a democracy (or republic, take your pick). The people vote on what should be acceptable and unacceptable. God never really teaches in the Bible how to be in this political system where the rules are set by the people, both the Godly and unGodly alike. He put in place Godly kings (huzzah!) and ungodly dictators (boooo).  What many are doing now is trying to work in the old system where we have a ruler. Only this time, instead of it being one individual person, we are making one religious doctrine. Just as in the Bible, not every citizen had the same belief as the man in charge and for that they were condemned. We are doing the same thing today! If others do not abide by Christian virtues, they do not have the same rights. Maybe we don’t put people to death or, generally, in prison either, but we punish them regardless.

In countries where there is a dictator in power, we say it is unjust and unethical for one entity to call all the shots without consideration to what the citizens want. And, God forbid, if the dictator says every citizen must worship as, say, a Muslim and Christians are put to prison for their beliefs, where they are wiped of opportunities and basic human rights, we get all up in arms. But what are we doing to our fellow humans here in the United States? Isn’t it the same thing? Telling them they do not have the right to love whom they love or love them the way in which they desire to, and if they choose to do so anyways, against our approval, they do not deserve to live a life together with healthcare and a right to have a family? (There are tons of different controversial issues I could insert here but with the recent supreme court decisions, I choose to take up this one.)

The point is that we only support human rights and justice when it involves challenging our own beliefs!

Consider religious freedom, the foundation of our country. We want that right, don’t we? Of course we do. We spend endless time and money and energy and effort toward fighting for Christian rights—we can’t hinder the church and priests must have tax breaks and all that jazz. We will certainly fight for that. The problem here is this: by definition, religious freedom allows that some people may choose to worship as a Hindu, as a Jew, as a Muslim, as a Christian, or to not worship at all. If we fight for Christian rights, we MUST be fighting  for the rights all beliefs.  Otherwise, we are simply fighting for a regression in political values and religious freedoms; we want OUR religion to govern because everybody else is WRONG.  Actually, to be honest, we want our BELIEFS to govern. I look at these values and these fights many who claim to be Christians choose to take up and it is often that I wonder if we are even worshiping the same God, the same idea of love, and much less if we have the same idea of logic.

Regardless, though, we can use the Christian idea of family. The father is the head of household and as part of his duty, he disciplines the children. So if God is the father, it is His duty to discipline. So where does that leave us? What is our place? It is our place to be disciplined by god our Father, and other believers of this hierarchy are called our brothers and sisters. It is not a brother or sisters place to discipline or force siblings to do something. If anything, it is simply our place to encourage one another to walk in the way that pleases the father, but NOT to enforce a father’s punishment. So even if God is displeased by, say, homosexual desires and behaviors and He wishes to punish those who practice it, where do we hold the right to condemn them ourselves and try to make them less of a person for their “shortcomings”? Let’s allow the power to be in God’s hands; after all, He is the Father both of us and of them, whether he is acknowledged or not—which is the foundation of our desire to persuade others to believe in Him. Let Him be the judge and jury. We should love encourage, not hate and enforce.

-End of rant.

*Not everybody, but it is the case more often than not. I do appreciate those who love me and accept my beliefs regardless.

Afraid.

I am being faced with death all around me nowadays.

I always considered myself unafraid of death. Well, not always, but for the past several years. It's inevitable; I have faith in my savior; it is what it is. Now, however, I am facing feelings I did not know I had on the subject.

I know I have considered before my fear of getting close to others for fear of losing them. I have never handled loss very well. I always want to love, but I don't want to lose. Unfortunately, that's a part of life. Death is partly loss. Loss is part of life. Death is part of life. It all sounds reasonable on paper. In practice, I'm unsure of my strength.

A friend of mine -- though I was not close to him, I certainly considered him a friend and was happy to have him a part of my life -- recently died. I spent a day or two in various levels of shock and crying. On April 6th, it is the anniversary of a close friend's suicide. Just over a year ago I dealt with a very close friend attempting suicide. This semester, I'm taking a class about death and dying, therefore reading several books left and right looking at the up close and personal aspects of dying people in their final days. I have dealt with a lot of loss and have been faced with it a lot in a short period of time. I have found that the hardest part of about grasping death for me is that when I lose someone, there is always hope I will see them again. I will walk down the street one day, years and years later, and see them. We will catch up; things will work out. When a person dies, it's forever. No chance. No hope. Just death. Just a gap between two people where love and connection once was. Now we are stuck with the emptiness, sometimes regret, but a lot of hurt.

I get so tired of the pain and the hurting, the feelings of loneliness and emptiness. Death leaves an insatiable place that was once filled, now empty. That person will never return, will never reclaim that part of your life and heart. I know this is all very grim and blunt, and controversial in a way (many people would love to say they're always part of your heart, you can never forget them; I find that to be true, but I also always find a hole along side).

Anyway, the point of all this rambling is that I just finished Tuesdays with Morrie. If you have never read the book, I recommend it very highly. By the end, I was considering how to live my life in a way that loves and connects with others with everything. I was wondering how to walk away having learned something through reading that book about breaking free from the world and living a good life. I considered why the death of someone you know causes such pain.

I realized that I am afraid of embracing life and people and love because there is a chance that one day they will be ripped from my grasp, like the other things and people who have been there and no longer are. I don't want anymore holes. I don't want to miss people, especially because I feel like they don't miss me (in the case of death, this argument is rather invalidated). I dread the day more than anything that my parents die. Although, on the same level, if my sister or the children die, I'll be exceptionally devastated.

Another thing I have noticed is that it is so much easier to consider someone dying of old age rather than any other causes. When a person reaches the end of their life, are contented and tired, it's easier to accept than when someone dies in an accident or a suicide or a murder or of disease. It seems so much less fair and heartbreaking. You aren't braced for the impact.

On a somewhat off-topic, side note, I would like to say it's very difficult to read a book knowing that there is no happy ending. The book is about the death of someone; they definitely die. No miracle to save them. It's rather sad, but at least you are prepared. Still, lack of hope is a little saddening. It seems a lot like life, really. You go into it knowing that it will end. It's inevitable. It's all about how you get to that ending, how you read, how you enjoy it because eventually it will certainly end. Hope isn't really necessary.


I'm not sure what to do with all this, but it definitely makes me cry. I'm hoping to feel my way through this in the next few months and become the wiser.

To be more prepared.
To be less afraid.

Busyness.

Work today was, well... a lot of work. Usually my job is pretty laid back. However, some things went wrong today and things started going really fast to try to catch up. I made about 3,000 copies and was running around for hours. Making telephone calls, running errands, making copies, putting things together... It was a very fast-pace, high-strung kind of day.
And I really liked it.

I had forgotten how busy I used to be. See, I am busy now most of the time. However, it's not fast pace kind of stuff. I have long, extended periods of stress. I work great under stress. When I have a ton to do, where I can see progress, see the boxes of copies I am making and running around talking and being in control... it feels wonderful!


So I started wondering why it is that I feel so fantastic after such a long, intense day. I think it's because I feel accomplished, but more importantly I feel important. I feel like what I am doing is making a difference, and I'm doing a lot. I'm productive and active doing stuff that is necessary. My role in the situation is vital to a system. And, the best part, I get to help people! I could do things haphazardly and just finish a job, put it in the professor's mailbox, and move on. Instead, I run the copies, take it to their office so they don't have to walk over, and even get their paperwork done in less than half the time they request. I am proficient.

Maybe that's what God wants. Maybe, despite how much stuff I do, I need to do more. Maybe it's because that stuff I am busy with now isn't enough... I need to see the difference it is making, at least in some part of my life. Volunteering at a homeless shelter or a food kitchen, or even working in a place that takes the stress off someone else's life. Something. I want to make a difference, and I can't just watch these years of my life go by while I just write papers. I need to start making that change in the world now, even before I have my degree. There are always ways.

I need to work for God.
Not because he requires it, but because I want to and because my soul is not satisfied until I do.

A Comfortable Death.

Last night's reading was on an unfailing love. Tonight's focused on perfect love. I guess I was ahead.

So, instead of responding to my devotional reading, I am going to write what is on my heart and has been building the past few classes.

In my death and dying class, we are talking about bereavement, grief, and mourning. We also discussed a "comfortable companion" (which I'll define shortly) and I recently read the assigned book The Death of Ivan Ilyich. When a person is dying, they often face a loss of bodily control and disorientation which leads to others being uncomfortable and avoiding him/her. The top most common fear among dying individuals is fear of abandonment! I can see why. It's so common for people to die socially long before dying physically. A "comfortable companion" is a person who is comfortable with death and cares about the dying individual. They are the people who will hold a dying person's hand and tell him/her "it's ok" and listen, to ignore the smell and the slow speech, to have patience, to help the person move from one piece of furniture to another. It is the person who understands you are dying and just wants to be there for you in the end.

It is hard to find a comfortable companion. Why? Because death makes us terribly uncomfortable. We aren't sure how to respond when a person is partially lost within their thoughts because they're disoriented. We are taken back by the smell of a person who has lost control of bowels or simply smells of dying (c'mon, most of us know the smell). We don't know what to do, so we just avoid the situation. We assume somebody else will take care of their needs, and we can just look the other way.

I was considering... I am not afraid of death. I am, however, afraid of dying alone. My mother and I agree that everybody is afraid of this on some level. Statistics, as I already said earlier, show the top fear is of abandonment. Dying is the most intense, innate fear in us. Seriously, nature desires to live. Nobody wants to face the biggest thing in life alone.

So... if nobody wants to die alone, but dying people make us uncomfortable and we avoid them, what happens?
People die scared and abandoned, alone.


Gerasim tells Ivan Ilyich, why shouldn't he help a dying man, what truly is he losing? I agree.

Why aren't we willing to sacrifice a few months of our lives being inconvenienced in whatever way in order to hold a dying person's hand through the process? Put aside our discomfort and our own fear so that we can help someone else through their fears. That's love!


[[Might I insert, Jesus overcame death. In our death, we are with him and therefore never truly die alone. However, why can't he be holding a person's hand through us? Maybe we are meant to be that person embodying Christ's loving caress through the transition.]]

So this brings me to the fact that I don't believe my heart has ever broken for a population more than for these dying individuals whose families have basically looked away or gotten lost in their own discomfort and frustrations.

It's funny because less than a year ago I was so uncomfortable around elderly individuals and had to force myself to engage in an opportunity to spend several days out of a week with them. And now, I'm wondering if perhaps God is calling me to hold tender elderly hands while they pass into the next life.

God, what are you doing?

I don't know, but I'm really excited to find out.

Break my heart. Do what it takes. Bring Your love to life inside of me.

I'm ready.

Love.

I don't even know where to begin.

God has been slowly working this up in me, I believe. The reading tonight had a the story about Princess Alice whose son was deathly ill. He was quarantined and the princess was told to stay away. However, she overheard him ask a nurse why his mother never kissed him anymore. She smothered the child with love and kisses, then died days later.
That mother loved her son.


I read a book this weekend, The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Ivan Ilyich was dying (obviously) and nobody wanted to be around him. He lost control over his body and he became rather bitter about abandonment and the agonizing pain from the illness. However, this boy Gerasim walked into his life for the first time during his illness. The boy saw the man dying, though nobody would admit that he was, and spent a great deal of time with Ivan, holding up his feet to ease the pain, just talking with the man, bringing him food, helping him use the bathroom, and move him from bed to sofa repeatedly. He accepted the man on his death bed, asking not why he did these things, but rather why wouldn't I?
That boy loved that man.


A father was finally dying of disease when he called his youngest daughter to visit him. She decided she would not leave his side until he passed or got better. After a week, he booked her flight home and had arrangements to get her to the airport. He said he was tired and couldn't help but hold on when she was there. The next day while the middle daughter (who could not handle death and was in denial of her father's condition) was still in school, his oldest daughter came home to tend to him. He looked at her and said, "honey, I'm tired. I'm ready to go. Please hold me." She laid in bed with him, holding him. He passed a few minutes later.
That daughter loved her father. That father loved his daughters.


Sometimes, I feel defeated and terribly lonely. In fact, I feel lonely so often. Even with a bunch of friends, having fun, I still get tired. I feel let down. I feel forgotten. I feel unloved.

I do understand that I am loved. I have good friends and I have a wonderful family. I just feel so let down and forgotten and deceived so often. It's not that people don't love me, it's that they aren't good at it. Their love is imperfect, and because I know what love is supposed to be (thanks to Jesus), I have trouble accepting that what other people feel is actually love at all. But I guess they do.

What it comes down to is that how they love me really doesn't matter that much. What matters is that God loves me. He loves me dearly. He would kiss me when I'm ill. He would hold sit by my bedside if I abandoned hope of recovery. He would hold me while I die. He loves me. Perfectly. He is patient and kind and forgiving. He doesn't keep a record of my wrongs. He always loves. I often forget that. Not that He loves me, but that He loves me perfectly. That no matter how crummy I feel when people ditch me or treat me unfairly or throw me under the bus... he wouldn't do that. He wants to pick me up from those heartaches, dust me off, and hold my hand through the next one.

People are so imperfect. But why should it matter to me enough to hold onto anger and resentment? Why should I brood about a friend cancelling plans because they found something better to do? Why does it affect my self-esteem and my feelings of self-worth just because others and myself are both imperfect?
I have the creator of the universe totally in love with me, loving me with a devoted and unfailing love.

Any spec of doubt or moment of faithlessness is because I don't trust his love. I think that's what it comes down to. If I truly believed that God loved me with a perfect and unfailing love, I would never wonder why I'm going through difficult times; I would never think twice about a sudden change of events in my life; I would never doubt my self-worth; I would be excited, not fearful, to face every new day.

My revelation tonight:
Because people are imperfect, we forget God's perfection.


In case Derrick Scott ever reads this... Yes, this is the first time I have felt God speak to me in quite some time. And I love it.

Consistently Inconsistent

People.
Amazing.


Christ tells us if the world hates us, keep in mind that it hated him first (John 15:18) and that we will be hated by all nations because of him (Matthew 24:9).

People are surprisingly consistent in their inconsistency.

I was reading in the book of Luke. In one chapter, the people went from listening to him read scriptures, proclaiming the fulfillment of promises in Isaiah and they worshiped him to being angry and driving him from town to throw him off a cliff (Luke 4:22, 28-29).

I had never read that story before. I knew of the many persecutions with which Jesus was faced, but never that the people drove him to a cliff. Even more amazing was that they had just verses before been "speaking well of him and were amazed at his gracious words (v 22)! 

It still happens today, really. It reminds me of particular events in high school. I had been saved for not quite a year when a friend approached me to help him find scriptures and help him get life on track and have faith. I did, of course. I helped him be accountable and remember his Bible and whatnot. Then only a month later, he spread word to everybody I had previously known in middle school (they went to a different high school) that I became a pushy hypocritical Christian who forced religion down others' throat. I was rather shocked to say the least, considering he had come to me. I lost many friendships. There was another incident where a friend basically did the same thing, coming up to me and asking for an accountability partner and someone to take him to church and whatnot. I did. I continued to be there as a sister in Christ, but for whatever reason, he walked away, returning years later to tell me he thought I was a judgmental... unkind noun. 

One day, people want to Christ and his grace and love and mercy. Sadly, once they begin receiving it and life "looks up" a little, suddenly religion becomes taboo. 

To some extent, even we Christians do that. Perhaps not deny Christ all together. Not outright. Not exactly. However, in our actions and in our sin, we set him aside and do what we know is wrong. We are guilty. And when we face those consequences (unfortunately, this is the only time many of us come to him) we will turn back and confess our oopsies, begging for forgiveness again. 

I am so guilty of this. I so often just want to look the other way because it's easier, because it's like God is telling me something I just don't want to hear so I say, "no way!" Then, of course, realize I need him and should have listened in the first place.

I guess it's just our nature.

This is just a profound revelation to me. To see the consistencies. There has to be something inside us guiding us. It has to be our nature. It couldn't be anything else. Sin does not stand alone, but comes as part of us. 

Thank you, God. Thank you that you forgive us for that which is innate.

The love of most will grow cold...

There is so much wickedness in the world. All around the world our Christian brothers and sisters are being prosecuted and murdered for their faith. There is so much rape, murder, war, hatred, vengeance, anger, slander, gossip, lies... So much evil in so many forms. It's so disheartening sometimes.

Sometimes it is hard to love people when you see them engage in these ungodly acts over,
and over,
and over,
and over again.


I have tried to trust people and been terribly betrayed. I have seen people hurt other people in absolutely insane ways. I have met people who genuinely act to hurt someone. I always want to give people the benefit of the doubt, so to speak.

I honestly have thought many times, nobody can be that mean; nobody could actually want to hurt another person like that. If I just explain to them why they are hurting me, they'll at least try to stop acting that way. It's all a miscommunication, a misunderstanding. 
Then they prove me wrong. I tell them it really hurts when they _____. And guess what? They do it more! People have surprised me (negatively) in so many ways.

Despite the ugly insanity of the heart of so many people, I do still love them. My love has not grown cold, though innumerable opportunities to do so have I faced. Sometimes I wander from it and my anger toward humanity is strong, I'll admit. Fortunately, at the end of the day, I still have faith and I still have hope that God is all powerful and in control. He will work all things for the good. In those times, greatness can be born. Either way, we are all sinners; we are all lost; we all need forgiveness and love and mercy and kindness. Who am I to withhold any of those things when I myself need them every moment of my life?

I just pray I stay this way, and grow in that path even further than I stand today.

I pray to stand firm to the end.


"Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved." -Matthew 24:12-13

Trust Issues

The Hebrews were awful about trusting God. He sent plagues and parted seas and freed them from slavery, yet they built calves and idols to worship and lead them. Today we do not look to golden calves for salvation. No, we find other outlets. Alcohol, shopping, television, long work weeks, overly school focused (at least, that's mine).

God has earned my trust through the great things he has done for me. Even without considering the cross (although without a doubt that's the greatest grace ever to be received), I can just look at my life and see from what I've been saved.

My father was an alcoholic and drug addict. My mother was a jealous and accusatory person. My sister developed an insanely emotional complex. The first memory I have of my life is my father trying to murder my mother in an alcoholic rage, then my mother packing our bags to leave him. He came back the next morning while my grandmother was on her way to pick us up. He was clean, and has never touched an alcoholic beverage or drug since that night. God stepped in and revealed himself just in time to save my father and give me an amazing life. I grew up with a supportive, stable family that loved me beyond words. I can't imagine having a better life, all things considered. My dad turned into the most influential, encouraging, Godly, and spiritually directive person in my life. Yes, there are rough patches and things that have hurt me and led me to develop weirdities. That's everyone though.

The point is... God has earned my trust throughout my life, revealing himself in insane ways. He has told me that he has wonderful and beautiful plans for me. That I truly have a purpose, though I haven't a clue what it is. I don't know how to get there, yet for some reason I forget to look to the one who has made those plans for me. I matter somehow, and only He can tell me how; only He can give me purpose and meaning.

My grades aren't everything. A job isn't everything. Getting married isn't everything. Nothing can give me meaning but Christ alone.

I am missing the journey.

But Lord, what can I do?

There is so much power in the name of Jesus. So much that the cripple may walk and the blind see. That in one moment, in one sentence said in the name of Christ, the fabrics of reality as we see are torn and the impossible becomes possible.

We have been given so much strength and power because of his sacrifice. With Christ in us, we can do anything! We can be a part of making a miracle happen! I can be a part of the story.

So why am I not?

I don't know how. If I could hurt with the hurting, if I could heal them, if I could only feed those who need it or reach out a hand to lift a lame man from the ground... I guess I can in Christ's name. It sounds beautiful. But really... how?

The world is crazy. Seriously. You don't know who is really broken and poor on the street. Who is really hurting? Who is taking advantage of kindness? How can you tell? Maybe it doesn't matter. But I want to love them. I want to offer them something.

God, I can! I am able to. I don't need money or resources or connections. The apostles saw a man and said, "Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk."

They didn't have anything more to give but Christ himself and his power.
And it was enough! It was more than enough! 


So why am I still scared? Why do I still feel like I have nothing to offer when the power of the universe lives in my heart?

What am I going to do about it?

Lord, give me strength.

Lent. Day 1.

My personal goal for lent, I have decided, is to read my daily scriptures and devotional then to write in response, to speak to God and let words flow. I figured that to make myself more accountable I should publicly display my thoughts. Or if they become too personal, I will at least post that I did in fact write. So here is day 1.


Trust God, not stuff.

There are so many things I turn away to follow, things into which I put my trust. They are not God, but I treat them as if they were the god of my life.
 I make time for everybody and everything else, but not the maker of the universe, the master of my heart, the tamer of seas, the giver of life.
 I talk to friends and family and all these things, yet so rarely sit down to greet my savior.
 I work for grades and for status; to make people smile and laugh; to make my parents proud; to be worthy of human affection; to assure success in my future career goals; but not to enhance my relationship with the only One who really loves me.


Many people worship money or a variety of other things. While money is nice and I wouldn't mind having more of it, that is less my goal. I seek to validate myself in the approval and affection of man, not through monetary wealth but through emotional wealth. I truly desire to make a positive difference in the world of those around me. However, I seek the glory to be my own. I sometimes forget to do good for the glory of God. Any strength I have to "do the right thing" or to show love to others is by Grace alone. I am selfish and messed up; God perfects the imperfect. In my weakness, He is strong.

I trust other things, things that fade and don't fill my soul. I trust in myself. I need to redirect my eyes to the Lord and not forget that I am nothing without his love. His love is enough.


"Let it all out; get it all out; rip it out; remove it. Don't be alarmed when the wound begins to bleed. We're so scared to find out what this life's all about; so scared we're gonna lose it and knowing all along that's exactly what we need... Today I will trust You with the confidence of a man whose never known defeat and try my best to just forget that that man isn't me... Reach out to me; make my heart brand new. Every beat will be for You." -Let It All Out by Relient K

Believe

Sugarland- Just Might (Make Me Believe)

"If you can look in my eyes and tell me we'll be alright, if you promise never to leave you just might make me believe."

I used to live this song. I used to think about how much better I would feel if someone loved me so much that bills and school and stress didn't matter. As long as they could hug me and say it will all be alright and that they'd always be there with me, no matter what was happening, maybe I would actually believe life would be ok. I was there once. It didn't work out.

So now, when I listen to this song, I realize that the more someone promises to always be there for me, and the more people feel the need to tell me everything will be ok, the less I believe them. To be honest, it makes me very sad and I don't want to fall in love anymore.

It doesn't feel worth it. So I don't really know where this leaves me. Just a thought.

No Greater Love

"For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will -- to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely give us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding." Ephesians 1: 4-8


He chose that I would be holy, that I would be his blameless and beautiful daughter. Not only did he choose me, but he did it with pleasure! He knew that would say and do the wrong things, that I would sin and mess up my life. And I have. In my relationships, in my friendships, in my daily walks around campus, in the glances of strangers in an elevator-- I have not shown mercy or love or grace. I have defiled the temple God has created in me. I have cursed his name. I have broken the hearts of those he put in my life to guide. I have pursued temporary and unholy feelings. I have failed to see the beauty in every day he has created for me. There is so much good I have forgotten or chosen not to do, so many callings I have pretended not to hear, so many opportunities to save that I have lost.

And yet...

God chose me before the he created anything else to be like him. He decided that he loved me and desired me to be a display of his holiness. He orchestrated this unbelievable plan, giving up the One he loves to be persecuted and beaten, bruised, and killed so that I could be blameless; so that he could love me. He did it with pleasure; he freely extended a hand of extreme grace that I might be redeemed and everything I have messed up be forgotten! That all the times I knew the right thing to do and didn't do it, all the times I allowed my body to be misused, all the times I let my emotions get the best of me-- all the times I sinned, he can forget and say, "you are beautiful, my darling. There is no flaw in you" (Song of Songs 4:7).

 He lavished his riches upon us. Not just offered or held out a hand, but "bestowed profusely" as per the definition-- with no contempt or expectation, but with pure love and affection. He lavished us in his riches. His riches!The riches greater than heaven and earth! The riches of the King. The riches of God. He poured out these things profusely out of undying love for our souls.

Yes!

And to me, the most amazing part of this entire revelation is the last part of this last verse: with all wisdom and understanding.

He knew all along, since before the earth was formed, that I would fall short, leave him, walk away, spit in his face with my lifestyle. He always knew. With all wisdom and with all understanding of every shortcoming, he lavished me in every richness in the universe, in everything that is his.

He loves me that much.

It was never about being perfect, nor about never straying from his light. It's about returning every time. He knows and he understands that I can never be holy in my ways, he knows that I can never be perfect. But he still thinks I'm beautiful and wants me back so that he can continue to redeem the mistakes and see me as his blameless daughter because he loves me.

I have so much guilt over so many things, and I have struggled for so long about accepting forgiveness for messing up. It has really kept me from experiencing the grace. Truth be told, I still don't think I'm quite there. However, I'm beginning to see that God knew and understood from the beginning of time that I was going to mess up -- he knew just how many times and how often and everything -- but yet it was always his plan to see me as his forgiven, holy and flawless daughter.

How could I turn down a love so great?

Distance vs Devotion

I'm laying here in bed, completely enveloped in my thoughts. Such a variety-- it's overwhelming. My stomach is in knots and my head is swirling. I want to cry, and laugh. I am ecstatic, and terrified. I long to run, but also to lay here in total silence, motionless and speechless.Thoughts ranging from longings to regrets; history to future.

The final thought I landed on that left me unable to resist writing any longer is simple:

what is my relationship with God?

Ok, ok. Not simple in the least. In fact, the most complicated and frustrating and beautiful and confusing object of consideration possible.

To give a little background insight to my thoughts... I am well aware, and even preach of the intimacy required to truly know God. There's a conversation involved. Like all relationships, communication is important and is in fact something I value extremely deeply with those I consider friends. With God, this in the form of prayer.

For the sake of clarification, I'll be referring to prayers of request, not those of thanksgiving and such.

However, God is also omniscient. He knows our thoughts before we think them. He knows our hearts. He knows our needs.

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?... For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." - Matthew 6:26, 32-33

 So this makes me think... why do we have to petition to God that which we desire? He knows the desire of my heart, and if that is what He wills to be in my life, it will be in my life. I don't want to ask for that which isn't a part of His will. I don't want to plead for something He doesn't want. I just want to exist and trust Him to give me that which He finds fitting and that which will be best for me, because I trust that He will give me good things and when something is bad, it will still work to my good because I love Him.

In general, these are my thoughts. Why do I have to pray? Why ask? What's the point? He already has a plan set for the world and for my life. And for the lives of others! I mean, why pray for someone to be healed? If it's their time, it's their time. If they still have things to do here first, then they'll be here to do what God has planned for them to do. If I just follow His commands as much as I can, and trust that Christ bore the wrath I deserved for when I fail... what more do I have to ask of such a God? I accept what I'm given and move forward, trusting and loving this loving God.

I guess I just realize a potential problem with this theory... It makes for a distant god and leaves no room for a devoted relationship. I don't believe my god to be distant and deaf. In fact, scripture repeats over and over how prayer works. First thoughts that come to mind:

Elijah was a man just like us. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops. James 5:17-18 

You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, Psalm 10:17

And the angel also said, "You are now pregnant and will give birth to a son. You are to name him Ishmael (which means 'God hears'), for the LORD has heard your cry of distress.  Genesis 16:11

So... those cries don't fall on deaf ears, by any means.

I just don't know where I stand. Based on scripture, prayer is important. I'm just not sure why. I'm very torn between having a god of distance and a god of devotion. I know He loves me-- with all my heart I know He does -- but I also truly believe He has things planned and knows what He's doing so I have no right to ask Him to do my will...


I'm not sure how they mesh.

God is Good... All the Time.

Okay, well this is just going to be a quick blurb because I have to finish getting ready for class, but I felt like writing about my experience.

I decided last night that I need to go grocery shopping after class today. I looked at my list as I added some stuff to it and estimated groceries would probably cost around $40. I sighed and decided it's okay because, God willing, I'll be working soon.

This morning, I felt a smile and perhaps a little wink from God.

I checked my email and there was a message from Bank of America. Oh boy. Then I looked and it was titled "Direct Deposit Credited to You Account."

What?

I wasn't expecting any money.

UNF randomly deposited $40 into my account last night.

:)
God is good.



 (Unnecessary part of the story, to me, is that I investigated why I received the money and it said "educational overpayment", which I assume means they paid out more than they needed to last semester and this is the rest of my refund.)

Challenge or Blessing?

I spoke in a previous entry about how every day has its quirks, but at the end of the day the good usually outweighs the bad.
Well, this past week has been one for the books. The quirks were actually a few little things while the bulk was just... unkind. And just when I thought it was getting a little better, life slapped me in the face.

Last year, Dad had his (second) open heart surgery. Didn't work for the better part of a year. He had to cash in his life insurance and Mom had to work summer school just to pay the bills. However, in the eyesight of a twisted system, we somehow miraculously had a substantially higher income and the school decided I am no longer in need of assistance and put me at the bottom of the list for grants and scholarships. They have cut my funding/financial aid next year by over $6,500, which I'll have to somehow come up with just to attend UNF next year. Mind you, this does not include the price of gas, food, parking permit, or any other random surprises life likes to throw my way.



Yep.


I will be working a lot this summer, or trying to, as well as looking for a job for next year while I write my honors thesis, conduct experiments, and continue to attempt being a straight-A student. T'will be fun.
And a challenge for sure.

Needless to say, this has brought me down the past few days. No, I don't doubt God will provide if my being here is His will. He's a faithful god. It has just left me feeling a little empty and with a serious lack of energy or care. Nothing seems to have much meaning, at least not enough to provoke any strong emotion, which may be a good thing for an overly emotional person. Regardless.

This morning I went to church, though. Not expecting much, but I did open my heart the best I knew how, praying for God to touch me and do something, anything at all. I just needed to feel Him today.

Once again, He is a faithful god.

Before I left, Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns came on Pandora:
The voice of Truth says, "do not be afraid" 
and the voice of Truth says, "this is for My Glory."
Out of all the voices calling out to me,
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of  Truth


Then at church, we sang Our God is Greater by Chris Tomlin
Into the darkness You shine
out of the ashes we rise.
There's no one like You, none like You.
Our God is greater, Our God is stronger
God you are higher than any other.
Our God is healer, Awesome in power...
And if our god is for us, than who could ever stop us?
And if our god is with us, than what could stand against?


Then we sang Believe by Hillsong:
You are my light, You are my strength
You are my rock, on You I stand...
In Christ forever I stand.
I will believe You are strong enough
In my weakness, God be lifted up.
And I will sing, lift Your praises high
Lord be magnified, You make all things new
I will believe.


If I didn't know His voice before, I'd know it now.
He is so much bigger than this. He turned water into wine? He created the heavens and the earth, and everything on it? He flooded the world and destroyed every living thing save Noah's group? He sent His son to be crucified and save our souls from eternal condemnation and allow us the opportunity to have a relationship with Him?

Psh. $6,500 is nothing. 


The best I can summarize what I consider the next part of God's conversation with me is... I've been praying for a while now. I want to be closer and I want to have a stronger relationship. My heart does long for His touch, I just can't make myself get to a place where I'm so open and dependent. And, well, this takes me to a place where I have no other option but to depend on Him and trust He is faithful. It also will give me the opportunity to see Him conduct a little miracle in my life. I'll be watching Him with my eyes fixed to see what is going on, where I need to go for this provision. I'll be paying more attention, perhaps catch more of His humor, know more than wisdom but the personality of the Lord. Hmm.

The next couple years will be a challenge, to be sure. But after today... I'm not exactly dreading it. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to draw closer and learn. To see the little miracles God will do for me.

I suppose in this challenge is my biggest blessing.