faith

Slow down

~ Amelia ~ 1 Comment

Everything has popped up in that vibrant happy April green. Most days, it feels exciting and new and clean and full of hope. Tiny buds on the trees say “hello” or maybe giggle or coo. Splashes of color camouflage the former endless span of lifeless tree trunks. I have walked and walked waiting for her sweet return. Ahhh. Spring. What a verb. What a season. The violent rainfall has birthed such beauty in the form of countless species of plants, trees, and flowers. The birds sing and talk about it all incessantly. They often wake so early because they can’t seem to get it all done in the daylight hours. All of the leaves and new plants will hinder me from having stare contests with the deer in the woods. But I know they’re still in there, heads down, grazing away on the delicious spring buffet. 

Today, the sky looks like it’s about to cry. A familiar eerie greenish greyish blue, a popular Midwest crayon color. I can’t wear my sunglasses today,to cover up my sad eyes, it would be too hard for me to see my next step. I could trust my dogs to lead me which I’ve often done. Close my eyes and hold onto the leash…”the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” Psalms 23 …oh, if he would make me lie down in green pastures. How would I ever get up? Most likely, the licks and panting in my face would force me out of my dull state. 

The truth is that this adventurous shepherd rescue dog of ours has lead me to the most thought-provoking places and people, despite his intimidating reputation. He doesn’t seem to know he is scary and most of the time, his sensitivity leads him to retreat or fake his best attempts at “guard dogging” the world. He sniffs while I pray and ask for God’s presence to envelop me and help me make sense of the brutally hard and complicated things in life. The utterly beautiful too. “Look over here…” God says, as he shows me the massive exposed roots of a wise old tree planted on the bank of a stream that used to have water flowing below. But the stream is now mud. I could cry because I’m not sure if that beautiful tree will survive the death of the stream.  “Are you here?” I ask. Then, I look out and see not one, not two, but three deer. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It’s hard to be alone in your thoughts with wonder and worry and doubts. How grateful I am to have the closeness of a Creator that walks ahead of me, beside me and sets up camp inside of me too. Even when I can’t see him or feel him, he’s there. Always.

I have found that everyday the walk is different. I can’t expect or determine or predict or plan what I will see or experience. Everything is constantly changing or altered by the wind, the sun, the clouds. God gently guides me to just go for the walk, trust and take the time, “slow down.” One day, I walked through one of my favorite passages of the woods listening to the Mumford and Sons song “Clover.” Tears streamed down my face as he repeatedly sang, “slow down….slow down.” Okay. Okay. Got it. I thought he sang “divine clover” until I read the lyrics. It truly was divine clover for me when I heard it first on the trail. So many times I am rushing through days and weeks, from one thing to the next, and I think it must be pretty hard for God to get through and for me to actually hear. It’s always in the “slow down” the quiet and stillness within me where God speaks the most boldly, profoundly and lovingly. Patience and surrender. Or maybe surrender and patience. Lord, help me hold these two delicately, tenderly and with the utmost respect for your plans, provision and truth.

It’s okay to have days where I want to wear sad glasses to hide the runaway lost and confused tears. God has designed us to be such marvelously complicated human beings. We aren’t meant to feel so absolutely positively comfortable here. “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Please, Lord, bring a little more heaven here today. Thank you for spring’s return. The enchanting smells, sights, and sounds overwhelm me in the most humbling of ways. Thank you for the days where I can’t wear my sunglasses and yet, you help me learn to trust and follow you anyways.

Round Table Discussion

~ Amelia ~ Leave a comment

image

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to talk about living with Crohn’s disease in front of a small group of young adults in their twenties and thirties. I attached the link below to the discussion.

I have found a sense of hope and healing in sharing my story with others. Although it can be difficult, it’s quite therapeutic to talk about the journey including overcoming obstacles, my faith, the low moments,  my coping mechanisms, etc. I thought Chris asked great questions throughout this round table discussion. He sympathized with me, yet also encouraged me to share about how having this disease has changed me and affected me in positive ways.

I’ve had several friends who hoped to come to the discussion but weren’t able to. I thought if you wanted to to listen to me share a bit of my nineteen year journey with Crohn’s disease, you can click the link. I told Chris that he “went all Barbara Walters” on me when he asked me to talk about one of my lowest moments. Spoiler alert: it’s sad.

Even if you don’t have time to listen, I thought I would emphasize the enormous value, for both parties,  in sitting across the table from someone who truly wants to listen to your story. Whatever your story may be. We have so much we can learn from one another when we take the time to hear, see, and feel life from another perspective. We welcome the opportunity to grow intellectually, but more importantly, we invite in beautiful real-life moments that can change our hearts.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B3iCHKad_tV_a3NnaVhPNnFidzQ

Free Will Happens

~ Amelia ~ Leave a comment

image

Sometimes I feel out of place. Like I’m supposed to be somewhere else. Doing something different. Something more.  I’m typically pretty realistic and tend to look for and often find the positive in my present situation. Whatever it may be. I think I have a hard time with complacency or stagnant waters. I believe that God intends to ignite a spark, a flame or a fire in our hearts.

Through the gift of the people we experience, God opens our eyes. Changes our perspective. God’s presence sometimes rests on our shoulders. He holds our hands. God carries us too. I also believe God nudges us in our side. In that sensitive spot. Ouch. Sometimes it hurts a little. It gets my attention. And causes me to stop. Wait. Think. Then, figure out why he’s nudging me. Oh yeah. Because I’ve been given a crud ton. Maybe I was clueless, greedy or ungrateful. Maybe I need to do more. Sometimes the nudges go away because I get distracted. Or I purposely ignore them. “Not now, God. Bad timing.” Other times, I get lost in translation. What do you really want me to do, God? Something more. Something different. Something harder. More uncomfortable. It’s a God sort of spiritual growth spurt. And it tends to happen when you’re least expecting it.

Generally speaking, it’s not that comfortable when people, whether it’s our friends, coworkers, family, children or spouses inconvenience us. Somewhat encourage or even force us to adjust, adapt or change. It’s a whole other story when we clench our fists and refuse to be moved or adjusted or altered by our faith. I’m having a hard time accepting the idea that we don’t want to be inconvenienced by what our faith calls us to do. Unless it has to do with ridiculousness like red cups or leggings. We’re nudged to do something about the sad. The painful. The broken. The uncomfortable. The life altering.

We just hate to be re-routed from our destination, even if it’s nowhere near the place God has planned for us to go. We want to put a future location or specific goal or set of circumstances in our Google life map and we just want to get there. Instantly. And on our own. Until we need help. Because we think we know best. But we don’t. And when shit happens that we’ve caused, we blame God. In addition to the “SHIT HAPPENS” bumper sticker, I think there should be a bumper sticker that says “FREE WILL HAPPENS.” So I made one.

I feel like our response to the obstacles, the detours, and the re-routing of our hearts and aspirations is what faith is all about. You can’t pencil in “have faith today at 4:00” onto your calendar. That’s not really faith at all. What if Jesus failed to plan ahead for the unexpected? Oh, wait. What if he chose not to stop, notice, empathize and spend time with those who needed him most? Of all people, he could have claimed he was too busy. He had a lot of prophecies to fill in a short amount of time. His life showed us that we’re all worthy of God’s unconditional love, overflowing grace and transformation. Every single one of us. Everywhere.

If a relationship doesn’t change you or exfoliate you or push you towards growth, what is the point? In the end. Besides being a couch. Just a comfortable resting spot. I want a faith that opens my eyes and sometimes elbows me and challenges me to engage in a life-adjusting, humbling, uncomfortable kind of love that exists. A love that often hides in the most broken places. But it’s somehow so beautiful when you’re a part of it. It’s a connection, a love that we all crave and would go to great lengths to experience.

If we could only take the time to be purposely inconvenienced. Free will happens. You have the choice to use yours for good, for loving others, in seemingly small ways and gigantic ways too. It can be uncomfortable but that’s usually a good sign. A sign of growth. And growth is good.