Throughout high school, and into college I was a stubborn, self-centered, two-faced pompous Christian living by the ways of the world. I exerted so much effort to make my life appear well and good on the outside, and all the while on the inside, I was dying–I refused to seek the Lord's help and come into step with Jesus. I didn't want to walk with Him in the fullness of life that He had created me for.

Of course I wanted to be with Jesus, as long as that meant He wouldn't shift around and complicate matters of my life.
I was comfortable with sweeping my mess under the rug and pretending it didn't exist: numbing and ignoring reality.

I didn't want to give up my dating relationship that was pulling me further and further away from God.
I didn't want to be an outcast from my friends, and live a different life than them on account of Christ.
I didn't want to leave the mountains of NC, be called to go home to Florida, and then God knows where.
I didn't want to work through my life and have the wounds of past and present pains dealt with and exposed.

I knew that in order to walk in the fullness of Jesus, with Jesus, I needed let go of myself and all the temporary things that made up my identity.
I knew I needed to fix my eyes on Him and only Him.
But, I dismissed it time and time again.


I was so in love with the things of this world, and myself that I was blinded to the oncoming death they were bringing.
When I held them close, they choked life out of me.

Focused on myself, I would go around and around trying to dictate, fix, and heal my life over and over again with no result but more pain. I was like a dog chasing it's tail, and I was running myself ragged.

My nose had become used to my self-absorbed stench.
I was like a stagnant pond: I wreaked of pride, anger, envy, and lust.
My eyes had become used to the darkness.
I was like a cockroach, constantly on high guard making sure no light would be exposed on my secret sins. 

My heart was like an acorn buried 6 feet deep, with no intent for growth. 
Yet, while in the ground, I sat and envied the oak trees. I coveted their leaves, strong branches, deep roots, and the fruit that came in spring. 
Even still, I refused to allow God's soul-wrenching *crack* of my own shell that allowed life to burst forth.

Then, God gave me an endearing kick in the pants and invited me (for the 1,476,295th time), like the rich-young ruler, to give up everything and follow Him.

January 13th, 2011.
That's the day God invited me.
That's the day when He spoke, I actually listened.
He called me an acorn.

He did this through:
1. having my boyfriend, Ryan, unintentionally read the Elizabeth Elliot quote out of Passion and Purity–found in part 1
2. having John Mark McMillan's song "Out of the Ground" play in the background
3. having all of this happen while I was holding onto an acorn that I had found from earlier that day.

God told me that this was only the beginning, and I needed to let go of the world.
He told me that if I clung to Him, I'd get the life that He created me for. A life filled with Him, that can and will overcome the wicked way of the enemy. 
He told me that I was valued and precious, and He will use me for His name's sake.

 
That's the day that Ryan and I broke up.
That's the day when I gave up and died to myself: I bore the dreaded crack of my acorn shell.
That's the day when I realized living for and with Christ was more satisfying than anything I could ever produce on my own–no matter what ups and downs I came to face in the future.
That's the day that I realized that through my pains, my sufferings, and my sacrifices Jesus brings forth His healing redemptive touch. He uses that perfect touch to grow and stretch me into exactly who He wants me to be, for His glory–just as the oak tree stretches and grows by the invisible hands of the Creator to get closer to the brilliant sun.

That's the day I knew my life would never look the same.
 

And it hasn't.
 
I've been crushed, broken, bleeding, and confused. I've cried so hard that tears just can't come out anymore–just unvocal wails of my soul. I've been used, persecuted, ripped at the seams, exposed, and bruised.

And at the very same time, I've been peaceful and joyful in Him. I've been satisfied, yet desiring even MORE of Him. I've been having my heart overflowed with so much love from God that it's impossible to put into a mere word. I've had rest, in Him. I've been in awe of Him. I've been filled, and yet managing somehow to keep getting more filled with Him and everything He brings. I've been HOPEFUL, in Him..

Through death, He brings His life.
Through sorrow, He brings His joy.
Through tears, He brings His laughter.
Through weakness, He brings His strength.
Through willingness, He brings His glory.

 
"His intention for us is '…the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.' Many deaths must go in reaching that measure, many letting-gos. When you look at the oak tree you do not feel the 'loss' of the acorn is a very great loss. The more you perceive God's purpose in your life, the less terrible the losses seem."
Elizabeth Elliot Passion and Purity

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."
John 16:33

"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!"
John 12:27-28