America; as of 2013 we were voted the world’s most generous nation. Makes sense huh? We have an abundance to give so you would hope that would mean we would be the fastest to help a brother out. We love to give. There is such blessing in that, being able to be at the top of the trickle down. Feeding hungry babies, pouring funding and volunteers into countries that have suffered earthquakes and tsunamis, adopting orphans; all very very good and generous things.
Me; I love to be able to give. I love being at the top of the trickle down too and being able to abundantly bless people. Oh gosh, it brings me so much joy to give the amount of money or that certain thing that someone has been praying for. Getting to see the joy on their faces and hear the emotion in their voices and knowing that I had been a part of that. I was obedient and God must be pleased with me.
There is the problem in this fluffy cloud and fields of daffodils dream; I am not in a season of giving (at least not in the traditional sense). I am in a season of receiving. A God ordained season where I am dependent on others, and most importantly, where I am learning to be dependent on Him.
And there are a few words that may describe my recent emotions towards this:
Frustrated, annoyed, nit-picky, negative, snappy, stubborn, and whiny.
It is like you gave me a drug called “Dependency” and those are the listed side effects for the first couple doses. And I may need a weaker dosage because I have them all.
This weekend all of Adventures in Missions (that is where I be doin’ life yo) had our monthly 24 hour burn (prayer, worship, intercession, Jesus dance party). Everyone was pumped. And worship track (that be me) is the oil that keeps the gears turning. I had done plenty of these kinds of things and even helped lead them on the Race so I was ready for God to show up and speak some awesome things.
Until the clock hit 1 a.m. The point where a particularly awesome music set ended and people started to trickle out the door to face plant into their beds. And before I knew it, the only people left in the building were the hard cores that were staying till sunrise.
Enter the moment where your sweet bubble of the Lord’s presence explodes and turns into vapor all around you because you are in full on hissy fit.
After about an hour of sitting in it with a sour face (with the people around me probably just thinking I was deep in thought being super spiritual) I decided I would pick up a pen and get some of the venom out. God knew it all anyways.
“So, currently pretty frustrated. I don’t have a car. And during the last set (eyes closed praising Jesus) all the people I could have gotten a ride from have peaced out. Lord, you distracted and tricked me with your presence! And now it looks like I am stuck here. I want my bed. And it makes me so annoyed to be in this season where I have to rely on others and sometimes feel forgotten or rejected. Where I have to ask for help every day; to get to the grocery store, to get home from work, or for money to fund my life. Or even just asking you what the heck you are doing in this season or where this is all leading to. I am tired of having to ask for help. I like being the one who can help others. I know you have purpose to this God, but it just feels like things are never on my terms and I don’t get to do what I want.”
At this point the Lord interjected. (side note: how sweet is He that He draws near to me when I am in the middle of a nasty fleshy meltdown.)
“Do you trust me to take care of you?”
“I really really want to say yes, but currently, all signs point to no. Sorry. That is so lame. You have never failed me in the past. Ever. Even when you don’t do what I want it is only because:
A. A. You have something better or
B. B. Because you are protecting me in some way
At this point in my journal I literally wrote “#strugglebus”.
And then I shut it and proceeded to scour the room looking for people that planned on departing before sunrise. I approached my friend Austin:
“Hey, you staying all night?” I asked in a sweet, masking tone.
“Yeah, I just let the girls take my car home. I’m staying put. It’s gonna be a good night.” He responded with a big smile.
Hot coals on my head. PERFECT. Another person who is perfectly content to sit here and worship Jesus all night, without sleep or food or comfy pants. That is how I am supposed to feel. That is what Jesus is worthy of. I am at a 24 hour worship service and whining about having to actually stay and worship for 24 hours!?! Ug-leee.
Within the hour a sweet friend approached me and offered me a ride home. I guess she read between the lines of the scowl on my forehead. I hugged her neck tight and by 3 am I was tucked into my bed with my comfy pants. And my dreams were filled with frazzled feelings of being annoyed and frustrated at myself.
I woke up the next morning feeling prickly and knowing I needed to face myself and my Jesus.
And He reminded me of something He had shown me a few weeks ago. An image:
Me sitting before Him and Him taking His hand, filled with food and bringing it to my mouth.
And the words: “I want you so dependent that you are eating from my hand.”
And thinking back I am like; God you even warned me what you were up to. And at that moment I am sure I probably nodded and said in my best cheerleader voice; “Uh huh! Let’s do this! Ready? OK!”
I don’t know about you, but most days I think I trick myself into thinking I am a lot further along in this whole “becoming more like Jesus” process. That I am grown up-adult Christian that does not need healing, that does not have any junk, or ugly pockets of flesh to be revealed. And when I live in this misconception of myself, I get mad and have little grace on myself when let’s say, I throw a temper tantrum and act like a child at a worship service.
When it comes down to it the truth of the matter is, I am a child. And I always will be; when I turn 30, when I have babies of my own, and when I am old and saggy. I will still be His little baby. He will always call me to dependency on Him. Because I will ALWAYS need Him. I will always have all I need, but it will always be just enough to keep me in need.
And this confronts everything I have ever known and many of the character traits that we as Americans or just human beings function in daily. I am supposed to be strong, independent, self-sustaining, and capable. And for so long I have lived under that pressure. Suffocating under the weight of it and riding myself so hard to keep up and just push through. And there is no freedom in that because it is all about my abilities and my own strength, my performance.
And even thought I squirm or hesitate to unwrap it, He has handed me the gift of dependency. Of no longer relying on my own strength or needing to be in control. That is where He wants me. Because when it comes down to it and when I stop fighting and just breathe it in, I will be happier there. It is the only path to freedom, this place where clay finally admits to itself that it is clay and delights in the Master’s hands that create with such gentle care. This place where my weak vessel meets his ocean of strength.
(And maybe while you are writing a blog about being dependent on God and how His ability to take care of you is better than your own, Jesus will kiss you on your forehead and your roommate will bring you home a Almond milk Chai Latte (your favorite). Just maybe 🙂 )
He is teaching me what freedom looks like. Sometimes it is asking a question out loud that is vulnerable and may reveal just how little you have it together. Sometimes it is telling a really embarrassing story about yourself because you looking like a fool will help those around you delight in their own clumsiness. Sometimes it is crying just because your feelings got hurt or because God reminded you of a dream you had when you were a little girl that you had completely forgotten about. Sometimes it is dancing like a child, laughing loudly and being ridiculously silly just because it feels good!
I am a child, although some days I feel more like a fetus. I am being fed and sustained by this being that is wrapped around me, that carries me. I am dependent. And He is opening my eyes to see myself clearly and healing them so they can see the woman in the mirror as He does; perfect, worthy, His sweet baby.
And now as a write this, I am back at our 24 hour burn. By choice. And with joy. He chose to make me out of clay, flesh. And I do not need to be ashamed of my weaknesses, and neither do you. Think about that for a while. Breathe it in until it settles in the marrow of your bones.
For in our weaknesses He is indeed strong! Oh, what a great, merciful and creative Father!
“No one else can love you like I love you Lord, cause I was made unique in your heart. I was made to bring you joy.”
These are the lyrics that are swirling around me at the moment and I can feel Him calling me to the dance floor, to twirl and jump and sing (off key? It’s possible). It’s time to let go and just be. It is time to love myself just as I am. And it is definitely, definitely time to dance.
(Some lovely dancing daughters. I be the yellow blurrrrrrr.)
