reminded...

I have this t-shirt. It's burnt-orange. And I love it.

I love it because it reminds me of Africa.

And when I'm reminded of Africa, I get uncomfortable...

Because I have clean water, that can be hot or cold...

Because I don't have to worry when bitten by a mosquito...

Because God's power is like none other...

Because the starving kids in Africa have names...

Each one matters to God.

And yes, I say they matter to me...but do my actions reflect that?

May God break my heart for what breaks His... 

gifts...

I love life. I mean, I really love this life. I was eating a Dove chocolate the other day, and the little message on the inside of the wrapper said "Enjoy the little pleasures life gives you." So I did. I took a run, made a grilled cheese sandwich, drank a tall glass of cold skim milk, and watched Dan in Real Life in my zebra snuggie. That was a good afternoon.

But these last few days have made me question whether or not this life is that great. And I don't mean life as in me breathing in and out...I mean life as a nursing student. Class from 8 to 5 in the same room of 80 students, staring at a computer screen, with no windows has been torture. The workload has been intimidating and exhausting. Every morning, as I open that computer screen, I ask myself, "Why am I doing this?" The answer, of course is, "Hilary, you're a 5th semester student, you've already completed your graduation application and you're way too many thousands of dollars in debt to change majors. So suck it up."

It seems so easy to live pessimistically. To find the bad, the ugly, and the annoying in every little aspect of life. It's real easy for me to hear the chomping of ice two rows ahead of me. It's real easy to find the one sidewalk on campus not shoveled adequately. And it's real easy to count every page of homework that has to be read by tomorrow.

But it's hard to choose a positive attitude. It's hard to smile in the midst of writing a 2 post-it long "to-do list". It's hard to see the sun when the -20 degree wind chill is freezing your snot into icicles hanging from your nose.

I want to be a positive person. I want to wear out this gift of life. And I want to be abandoned to my King. All of these things don't happen overnight. It's the day in and day out, little choices consistently made that shape a person's character. So tonight, I'm gonna put down my textbook, and pick up a fun novel. I'm going to make myself a cup of green tea and put on my snuggie. And tomorrow morning, I'm going to go start my roommate's car 15 min before leaving for class. And I'm going to take my vitamins and eat a good breakfast and spend alone time with the One who conquered death and the grave to win my heart.

Because God gave me this life. And He gave me tater tot casserole, and pink nail polish, and 4 beautiful nieces. He gave me smoothies, Choco Latte, and a child from India to sponsor. And He gave me family, friends, and pandora radio. And God gave me peanut butter, a heart for missions, and the ability to learn.
God gives real good gifts.

And so...I love these gifts and I love this life, but most of all, I love my God.

sur·ren·der

 –verb (used with object)  to give up, abandon, or relinquish (comfort, hope, etc.)

I can't sleep tonight. Because my mind is racing with random words pounding my thoughts like a racehorse's hooves pound into the dirt track. One of the words is (yep, you guessed it), 'surrender'. Surrender is a word we often like to avoid. Surrender is scary, misunderstood, and humbling. It is unpopular and uncomfortable. Rarely are there warm and fuzzy feelings associated with a word that so closely resembles losing.

Why is this? Why is giving up of ourselves to the One who created us scary? Why is it risky to place our lives at the feet of the One who has written out all the days of our lives? Do we actually think we can live life on our own? Is losing always a bad thing, or is that something we've grown to learn?

Another word coming to my mind over and over again is 'illusion'. I think we have illusions. Illusions of how the world is supposed to work and how God is supposed to work. And we have this illusion of control. Like our lives are best in our own hands. When things don't go the way they're "supposed to go", we tend to grab all the more tightly to other things around us, whether those things are people or jobs or planners. 

But what does surrender actually look like? Would it make all the hard times easy to get through? Or would it make easy times suddenly uncertain and uncomfortable? What would it look like if I relinquished my need to be in control? What if I abandoned the dreams for my own life I've held on to for so many years? What if I actually believed my life was better in God's hands? What if I understood that all of God's ways are true and sure?

I am convinced that my life is better off not in my hands. I believe there is beauty in surrender. And obedience follows surrender. This surrendering thing isn't easy. And it's not just in the big things...but the little things that often need to be relinquished. Surrender doesn't come naturally. And I don't think there's a step by step "how-to" in some manual. But I do think surrender is closely related to the following: getting to know God more, humbling yourself, obediently following when called.

I don't have this surrender thing figured out, but I'm learning. I am learning to lay down my own agenda, abandoning the way I think my life should go. And I'm trying to keep still, listening and looking for opportunities. My prayer is that when these opportunities arise, you will surrender your dreams, agenda, & plans and respond obediently. As scary as it may be, rest assured that God knows you better than you know yourself. He is faithful to keep His promises and will go before you. His ways are sure. He will not fail you.


May this song bless you and challenge you to keep following our Maker ever so closely.
"I Will Follow"

stuck in a snowdrift

Last night, I was sitting in my apartment watching "Horton Hears a Who" with my beautiful, sometimes annoying, oh-so-wonderful roommates, when we heard a noise. Looking out the window, we noticed a guy and girl in their little Mitsubishi stuck in a snowdrift. The day's accumulation of snowflakes made the parking lot impossible to escape via anything without 4-wheel drive. In an effort to end the annoying noise of tires spinning, we threw on some boots and ran outside. Despite the pajama pants and lack of mittens, the Mitsubishi was successfully pushed out of the parking lot in a matter of minutes.

The Mitsubishi was stuck in a snowdrift.
I, too, have been stuck in a snowdrift.

Maybe you can relate. A snowdrift of guilt, one of pain, or a drift of bitterness. Initially, you deny that you're actually stuck and you press on the gas pedal a little harder hoping to actually make it through. But then you realize you are stuck, and so you alternate forward and reverse, as you turn your wheels slightly. You hope there will be some sort of traction, or that somehow you'll be able to "unstuck yourself". And above all, as you sit in your car, stuck in a snowdrift of stress, grief, loneliness, or anger, you desperately hope no one is peering at you through their window. Suddenly, you remember the snow shovel in your trunk and you start frantically shoveling in an effort to "unstuck yourself". It's embarrassing really, to be seen in this state of powerlessness. But time goes on, and you realize you alone can't get yourself out of the problem you're in.

I've been in many different snowdrifts. But this I've learned...I have only one hope. I can't always rely on "Galinda the Grand Prix" to plow through the snow. I can't always get through it on my own. Sometimes I get stuck, and the shovel isn't big or strong enough for all the snow. Rarely does a stranger help push or pull you out. The snowdrift is often a lonely place to be.

In this loneliness, I've learned to genuinely come to God...no pretenses or charades, no denial or accusation. I simply come as I am, messed up and broken. In this snowdrift, eventually I realize I can't do life on my own. My own attempts have proven cracked and insufficient. So I turn to my Only Hope.

There's a song that has been on repeat in my iTunes, entitled "The Only Hope" by Bebo Norman. The song is about begging God to take our lives and hold on tight. We have hope for our lives when they're in the hands of God. It's a beautiful thing when we finally get to the point of putting our lives in God's hands. Everyday, several times throughout the day, I have to remind myself of that. God has proven Himself faithful time and again. He doesn't forget or break His promises. He meets me right where I am, stuck in the snowdrift.  In Him, there's freedom and forgiveness, there's life and joy. I'm much better off in God's hands than my own.
But sometimes, you sit stuck in that snowdrift for what seems like forever. I don't know why. But I hold on to the truth that there's beauty in the pain, there's lessons learned in trials. God has come. And God will stay. No matter the reason, the duration, or the perception of the snowdrift, He's still the only hope for getting 'unstuck.'
[Please know that I'm not downplaying friends, church family, medicine, counseling, etc.]

Wherever you are, whether you're stuck in a snowdrift or toasty warm by a fireplace, may you come to learn that God really is our only hope. If you're in the snowdrift tonight, do not sit in your car twiddling your thumbs. Yes, put your hope in God, but then take measures to get unstuck. If you're peering through a window at the person stuck, do not turn away. Sooner than later, you'll be in a drift yourself. So come alongside that person, learn from them and point them to our Only Hope.