Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You?

5 - Swimming lesson instructor.

6 - Teacher.

9 - Famous singer.

10 - Missionary.

12 - Writer.

15 - Married to a billionaire.

17 - Actress.

18 - Mother.

19 - Youth pastor.

21 - Pastor.

23 - Travelling poet through Japan, conquering skyscrapers and scary hairstyles with my devastatingly touching iambic pentameter.

At each age, these were my highest aspirations. Some are still with me (hello, famous singing career, here I come), and some are long dead. I never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or astronaut or princess, because it was never about the money (except marrying rich, of course); it was about living out what I was passionate about.

So. Self-analysis time. What am I most passionate about at this moment?

...Reading my Bible, making delicious food, making anything really, going on adventures.

Okay. Now why am I doing anything else?

Obvious answer: it's all part of the plan. Finish school, do what's required, I'll thank myself later. And realistically, I'll be done in just over 5 months. That's all. But until then...I'm dragging myself through the mud.

I want a better attitude! I really do. And there are parts about school I absolutely love to bits. But there's the parts that literally take the things I used to love and twist them into ugly representations of lovely things. Too hardcore? Fine. The joy for learning is gone when I'm over-worked and under-prepared and hungover (JOKES) and, in some cases, have already learned exactly the same thing in five other courses (this happens more often than you'd think). And other things still hurt. I think I've mostly forgiven the painful bits from over the last whiles, but it doesn't make the hurt any less legitimate. Sometimes I forget how badly it still affects my heart, and then a reminder stuffs itself into my face and I cannot breathe all over again.

Sidenote: What do you do when you know something that literally no one else on the planet knows except the person whose secret it is to tell, and this information could destroy everything for someone else? What do you do when there is no "sworn to secrecy," but instead a mutual silence? What do you do when you know you should do the right thing, but in the end no one will thank you for it?

End sidenote.

I am fighting through this, but I'd rather enjoy the ride. What's the worst that happens? I don't get A+'s across the board? Unlikely at this point, anyways. I don't graduate with highest honours? ...I'm guessing that I'm the only person who cares if I do that or not. The school I want won't accept me because my grades blow chunks? I take the road set out for me instead of the one that was obviously of me.

I am officially letting go of perfection and instead striving to enjoy this at least a little bit more than I have been. Hello, folks! It's celebration time. Freedom is nearly here. It's taste is strongly overpowering my leftover coffee and midnight cigarette (JOKES...about the coffee. JOKES! Gosh).

And It's Not Hard to Fall

I have about a thousand things to say and no photo that will represent them so that I can shut up and stop trying to voice what is actually no more than a picture in my head. I want things. Big things. I want passionate things and me being passionate about them. I want to say the things on my mind, knowing full well that I mean them, and not be afraid of people forgetting to take me seriously (or worse, remembering). I want those things that are too big and scary to say out loud, but that I ache for in ways I don't understand. I want to look at myself and love what I see, or at least be able to tell myself what I would rather see instead of this insane lack of knowing why I don't want what I have or any of the options for change. I want to always know the difference between something worth fighting, lying, flying, pushing, dying for and something that's not even worth the breath it takes to mildly disagree. I want to put my talential-ADD aside on behalf of just one thing and get brilliantly good at it, not because it naturally comes to me but because I worked my butt off. Just one thing. I want to come across meaning in the moment, but not spend so much time trying to find it that I miss out on what God's trying to say on a grander scale. I want to know myself in Him before I try to learn anything else about Him; I am so sick of the things I know and the things I debate that lead me no closer to Him or the person I need to be. I want to love with a passion and desire that scares me until death.

Hello, Passion, and All the Ways You Destroy Me

Our greatest strengths are so often the set-up for our greatest downfalls. It is that which drives us that also has the potential to drive us into the ground. The things that fire us up reduce us to ashes. That which is my personal spice for life wrecks the whole pot of sauce. It goes on and on.

It took me a long time to figure out my greatest strength, my driving force, my fire, my spice...and with the realization came such an enlightening moment of clarity. Passion. About what? Half the time I have no idea! But anything I care about at all, I care about with such a huge part of myself that, soon enough, I cannot see where it ends and I begin. I just get fired up and it consumes me. That is why I have to be so careful what I care about.

When I look back over the last several years and see the disaster zone that was my personal minefield of relationships, it's not hard to see why it was so harmful and toxic. I come to care for someone, really care, and it consumes me. It's who I am. That isn't to say that I cannot separate myself from someone, or that it in any way turns into an obsession. Not by a long shot. But I commit; I commit to making something work and then I am driven to make this thing last. I kill myself with my greatest attribute.

Ministry is like that for me. Right now I am staring down the barrel of a new gun and it terrifies me. It becomes such an integral part of my life and then, if it ends, a part of me dies with it. I want to be a woman so consumed with ministry that I cannot focus on any other future plans until it is the right time. But how? How in the world do I give myself to something when I know that its flames will take me down?

People say I have strong, even brutal, opinions. I make no apologies for these opinions, only for the coldness of my delivery at times. I do not go in something half way. I do not coast my way through anything. Even in the midst of depression, I sink into it with all the weight I can throw. It's sadistic and, well, dark and twisty. Yet here I stand, with my all in everything I do, and that has to be okay. I may wreck everything by throwing all my chilies in one pot, but no one can say I held back.

Dilemma. If this strength is what is killing me, do I cut it loose (and in the process lose an integral part of what makes me who I am) or run the huge risk of burying myself alive with all this over-zealous shoveling? The shovel feels right in my hand. And even on days when I hate who I am...I love who I am. I love the person who makes me so detestable and so very wonderful in the same breath. I am struggling right now with trying to suppress who I am to please others. These are the others who count. I need to stay in school, remember? I need to go on tour. I need to live out this aspect of my calling. But. Oh, the hugest of buts! I need to live! I need to breathe in air and breathe out something extraordinary. To reign that in is to not be true to who He has made me to be. I cannot take that lightly anymore. The calling on my life is so far beyond settling above mediocre; settling does not compute in my existential life quota.

If I do not let the flames spread to everything I do and everyone I touch, it will consume me from the inside out. I thought the walking dead was bad; burning alive is so much worse.

I Tried My Best to Be Guarded, but I'm an Open Book Instead

I am slowly coming to the realization that I can never go back.

There are so many things I would change if I could, so many precautions I would have taken, so many wise words I would have told myself. I will never again relive the "glory days," which, without the glare of nostalgia, really weren't so glorious after all; I will never relive the dark days, which, at the time, contained some of my most precious moments. I can never again be the Leanne who gave her heart to Jesus in the earnest hope that her life would turn around. We are so far beyond that now.

The more I discover about God, the more He thrills me. I read His name and feel my heart turn wildly inside of my chest, as someone so eloquently put it. I am falling in love with Him for who He is, not who I want Him to be or who it would be more convenient for Him to be or what He could do for me. Just Him. And it's rocking my world.

Part of my issue right now with only three more weeks of school this semester is trying to stay focused when all I want to do is sit down and read my Bible for hours on end. I want to read books that go deep into who He is, not just scratch the surface in an overview attempt at explaining a concept to people who haven't yet begun that journey. I want so much more right now! I haven't had passion about anything in so long, but last night as I discussed my views on some controversial topics, I felt a part of myself start to breathe again. I may have been too pushy at some points, and for that I apologize, but it was just so exciting to know I was excited about something! And it wasn't just any something.

Okay, I need to sleep now. If I want any energy with which to properly live each day so I have time for the things I want - let's be real, when it becomes as essential as breathing it is now a need - and not just the things necessary for passing courses that I will most likely forget about in a year's time. I want to learn, but so much more than that I want to fall deeper into Him. It will take my whole life to learn how to do it right, and then it will only be the start of an even grander adventure as I move on to the real story of my existence.

So if I continuously bring up the same topics, I...well, I don't apologize, but I am sorry if it bothers you. I am just so enthralled with this stuff that I can't help but talk about it.

Everyday Love

What. Is. Wrong. With. Me.

Yesterday I was about this big, and today I am high as a kite. On no sleep. But oh! Today!

Thursdays are usually my hardest days, because I have class from 8-11:30, chapel, lunch, and class from 1:15-4:30. I literally do not leave the building for 8.5 hours (except for, well not exactly the exception, when I go back to my room on each ten minute break for a five minute nap). But today! We talked about these things that just stir me up in the most amazing ways! Not in a bad, confrontational way, but in a challenging, be better! kind of way. We talked about inerrancy in Scripture, the huge responsibility placed on teachers (both inside the walls of the church and out) to lead people correctly while showing them how to read the Bible properly, and the essentiality of daily, personal, intense devotion time. All of which are so huge on my heart!

And chapel! (I need to go to a smaller font or I will not have enough room to make this short enough to be readable). A husband and wife from the States tag-teamed a message that was just so FULL of good stuff. And of course there's the stuff that just spoke, or yelled, at me.

• Esther 4:14 - she was called out of the mundane to the highest throne on the earth to be a voice for her generation. Be one in yours or God will use someone else.
• James 4:8 says that when we draw near to God He draws near too! If we don't feel Him...so what? I need to be prepared that I may be in this place of not feeling Him for the rest of my life, but that shouldn't diminish my passion. I refuse to doubt in the dark what He told me in the light.
• Express what you're learning in school through service of some kind. It will make it mean more. I need to kick myself into gear, stop being afraid, and just do whatever the heck He asks me to.
• Do not get comfortable, do not squash your own dream, do not say never if God doesn't.

Whew!

What a day. Don't get me wrong...I still feel as lost in the desert as ever. But somehow, today, I'm staring through the glare off the sand and smiling through the sweat and tears. If this is as good as it gets...then it's as good as it gets.

.

Why would You Want to Take Our Love and Tear It all Apart?

I need to stop making excuses for not being who I want to be. There is this woman I sometimes see in my eyes and I want her to shine through all the time. She is lovely and politely contrary and expresses the creativity that is always threatening to break through - the creativity that I stuff down because I don't have time to express it in the brilliantly daring way it demands - and she knows where she's heading and is okay with being in love with only Jesus for her whole life and paints a sunrise on her face instead of a suitcase full of make-up to feel beautiful and exudes genuine confidence because she genuinely knows that her heart is genuine. She is wonderful and I want to embrace her with all of me, but that means letting go of the things that conflict with her character. She is also strong enough to let go of the things holding her back.

I, on the other hand (or the other side of my near-schizo personality), am weak. I suppress my passions and push my way through issues that aren't worth how it hurts my friendships and constantly question where God is leading me and am still desperately scared that no man will ever love me enough to want me forever and still feel uncomfortable not wearing make-up even after a week of keeping it minimal because I am so afraid that I am not good enough or confident enough or beautiful enough without it. I am so weak that I still hold onto the last 5% of my life with all my feeble strength in the hope of...I don't even know what. I only hold myself back.

So here comes the challenge, the dilemma. What if I just jump? What if I take hold of the woman who fiercely demands her place in my life from within my own eyes and let her rule? What if I give myself over to the part of me that longs for Jesus to have my whole heart and be the example for every action, every word, every thought or motive?

Everything would change. The world would never be the same. Okay, this is it. I am taking the plunge. I am going to try this for one week...hold me accountable. I really need it. No. I really need God in control before I go out of control. I need a Daddy, I need a Friend, I need Someone to hold my hand, I need a Guide, I need a Lover. I need Jesus more than my pitiful human shell could ever know.

Go on and Get your Armour, Heart, because You're Going to Need It

Old nonsense. That's me.

Yet.

I feel able, capable.

Passionate! About things, about people, about the things that shouldn't matter but do and the things that don't matter but should.

I look into the future and only see brightness; a light at the end of the tunnel greater than I could have possibly imagined, in the words of someone speaking to my nine-year-old self.

There is hope again.

I know who I want to be, how I can get there, and a glimpse of what endless joys it will bring.

I will be honest. I will be trustworthy. I will be compassionate. I will strive to be a woman after God's own heart. I will be a woman of integrity. I will be a faithful, supportive, loving wife, and not just because those words sound good and are expected. I will choose to love and respect my husband, even when he disappoints me and does not love me the way he should. I will raise my children with all the care in the world, pouring into their lives and investing in who they will become. I will serve God how He asks me to, not how I think would best suit me. I will be a good enough friend to be upfront, putting everything on the line in order to help them be the best they can be. I will finish school. I will stop putting things off until tomorrow. I will stop loving the things that only break my heart. I will finish well.

The time has come for me to stop focusing on who I do not want to be and to turn my attention to the person I am endeavoring to become. I can be her, whenever I choose. I choose now.

How Can I Stand Here with You and not Be Moved by You?

What is pressing on my mind? Marriage, surprisingly (or not so much, considering I'm currently in a marriage class).

I have had a recent realization that blows the lid off everything I thought I thought about marriage: I have never before connected my ideal marriage situation to the person I am currently dating.

Wow.

I'm not dating now, nor do I want to, but there are always possibilities floating in the periphery of my satisfied single state. Yesterday I found myself thinking about what it would be like to end up with this one guy, and I was suddenly shocked to realize that I was interested despite how little he resembles the man I know I need. I'm not talking about nit-picky things like toothpaste squeezing technique or what colour hair he has or if his hands are bigger than mine; I'm talking about the absolute essentials. He has to have a heart for full-time ministry! That one is a no-brainer, and if I let go of that one I have already sold myself out. He has to love God more than me. He has to be crazy PASSIONATE about things, not just float through life complacent with sort of liking some general things that make good small talk. And he has to be just plain crazy to want a house full of kids and me.

I know these things. In the deepest recesses of my heart I know these things, yet when a guy is pursuing me I forget to hold him up against these things. I get caught up in whether or not he makes me laugh, on the colour of his eyes or the way his singing makes me melt. I forget how precious my heart is and how easily it can be broken by anyone but whoever the one will be. I forget how high my standards are when some guy with a killer smile looks my way.

It's pathetic!

In the words of Randy Remington, Tom Gardiner, and whoever else will most likely tell me in the next few days (keeping in true form, as God always does): "Choose wisely."

In the End, It all Comes down to...Numbers?

As I've probably mentioned in previous blogs, I used to have serious anger issues in high school. I literally could not control my rage at times. It's taken a huge softening of my heart to get me to here, a place where I might get frustrated or hurt or passionate about disrespect to another, but it takes a heck of a lot to get me angry...especially on my own behalf.

Today, I found myself angry. Still hurt, still questioning why God brought me here...and, finally, angry. It has slowly been washed away throughout the day, but I was amazed both to find myself that angry and that it took so long to become so. There are certain things I will not stand for, that my heart and integrity will not let pass before me without inflicting (what I hope is) righteous anger.

But. Still. I'm asking God to take it away. I will not leave here bitter; I will not leave here angry. That is not who I am, and that is certainly not who He has called me to be.

Only 62 hours to go.

Only 62 hours to go.

Only 61 hours to go.

And I See You Standing There Wanting More from Me, and All I Can Do is Try

Hello, 5th day in Toronto. My, how tired you're looking already! Not getting enough sleep? Oh...working too hard, then? Hmm...then what could it be?

I'm tired. All. The. Time. It seems like every day a little more fight goes out of me and I placate myself by telling myself it's the "Christian" thing to do; church struggles usually end when the contenders forget who their General is, or one of them forgets he is a warrior at all.

I have such huge dreams for the next eight weeks! I cannot contain my enthusiasm to start things and evangelize and change lives so that I leave this place better for my being here. But...maybe my hopes are too high. Maybe I'm too white or western or unreligiousized by Bible College to truly appreciate their way of doing church. I have no problem with pews or hymns or dressing up to honour God or having services in their native tongue; however, I start to feel the below-the-surface burn when a church wants to grow but won't evangelize, wants more youth but won't relate to them, or wants a big scale revival service to start up their "life-support church" all over again instead of doing the work themselves. I am trying my very hardest not to judge, and I want to be as humble and respectful as I can. I just...I see the potential! I see the beautiful hearts in these people and the good things they desire. I want to want what they want...but I can't. I am passionate about raising up a new generation of believers who are brilliantly in love with God and who take their faith into their own hands. I cannot be okay with teenagers who believe in God because their parents do, or Christians who never pick up their Bibles or churches that are only inwardly focused. We are all the body. We are not in competition with one another. No one denomination is the be all and end all, nor does any one have perfect theology or complete knowledge of God. Maybe my problem is that I care too much.

Lately I seem to be only interested in reading from authors who wrote mainly in the '40s. C.S. Lewis is a constant book-marker, and Sunday I went with Jasmine to Chapters and bought a few books by Ray Bradbury. Oh boy, can that man ever write! One of the books is a collection of 100 of his short stories, and every single one I have read so far (5) is brilliant. I read them while I'm on the treadmill because it's motivation: if I want to read anything except the Bible, I better get exercising! It's a story called "Season of Disbelief," and follows the bitter thoughts of a seventy-two-year-old woman who cannot convince three ten-year-olds that she was once their age. She first tries telling them stories about her childhood and young adult years, but they accuse her of fibbing. She then digs through some old trunks and brings out several prized possessions from when she was young, but they steal those things away because they believe she stole them from another child. Standing in her house amongst her things, Mrs. Bentley is suddenly overcome by a memory of her late husband:

"It won't work," Mr. Bentley continued, sipping his tea. No matter how hard you try to be what you once were you can only be what you are here and now. ...You can't really prove you were ever young. Pictures? No, they lie. You're not the picture."

I like to keep things for the sake of nostalgia. That way, every once in awhile when I chance upon the item, I'll be reminded and can be transported back to who I was in that moment.

This story rocked me. God has already been working on my heart, helping me let go of the material so I can live in the spiritual. This helped. A lot. When it's hard, when I'd rather pretend to be who I used to be instead of making myself who I want to be in this moment, I'll hold on to this.

A final thought. A friend and I discussed awhile ago the want to be a certain way by a certain time to impress certain people. For example, I want my hair to be long again sooooooooo bad by September so that it'll look awesome for the start of school. These aesthetic longings only serve to make me reach for something unattainable, or else something that won't really change me or the way people look at me but will only serve to boost my ego. However. I have come to realize that the only change that matters is a heart change; people who don't like me now won't like me any more just because my hair is longer. People who hate the person I've been, including myself, won't suddenly hate me less for being less thin, more tanned, or anything else I could find on myself that needs "improving." I have to soak my heart in God for anything to mean anything. "And they became as detestable as that which they loved" (Hosea 9:10b). What I love I will become. What I have loved I have become. I'm choosing to love God again, and I'm really hoping that through it I'll begin to be a little bit more like Him, too.

I Don't Do Things with Half of My Heart in Them

I google image searched inspirational and got this picture. Apparently there's something inspiring about being naked and covered in glitter. I get the naked part, but the glitter thing is just bizarre.

I'm in need of some inspiration. I want something to get excited about so that I have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

So I need replies, answers. I need things that inspire you, or things that might just be awesome enough to get me going.

It could be some sort of art, or a must-have-passion-to-do thing, or.........I don't know.

Please give me something.

Take a Deep Breath

It's 2010.

I don't really know what to make of that. Usually I do this on New Years' Eve, but there was no time. I like to reminisce; I like to think of all that I accomplished, all I am so glad I took a chance on, and all that I never want to repeat again.

I went to a party tonight that I didn't want to go to. I had a couple options, but I eventually chose this one because some of my closest friends would be there. Generally I don't really feel like I fit in with that group of people, but I decided to give it one last go. I wore my new green sweater (I had good feelings that good things were destined to happen in that sweater) and I went in just being myself. I wasn't trying to be who I thought I had to be to please them, I just went and...was. And I had the greatest New Years I can remember. It kind of makes me wish I had a lucky sweater for every day of the week.

I made a lot of mistakes this past year that have hurt a lot of people. But mostly I've just hurt me. I want to be different! I don't want to be this person I detest anymore. But words are easier than actions; ideals are simpler than bringing them to fruition. I don't know how to be better. I'm at the point where there's an impossible horizon somewhere in the distance, also called who and where I would like to be, but the mist is obscuring my vision. I'm stuck where I am.

This year was also full of so many beautiful things. And even now that they no longer are, I cannot bring myself to regret them. I want to give myself fully over to God's will; I think that those beautiful moments might stop being so rare. I miss Him. We were so tight, so in sync, and I let that go. I pushed, ran, hid, ignored, and lied to myself. I don't even remember the last time I opened my Bible. This is not who I want to be! This is not where I want to be! But the mist. It never ends.

It's 3 in the AM and a brand new year. I remember when I first heard that the Olympics would be in Vancouver in 2010. I was 15 and it seemed impossibly far off; an awesome picture of the future, but another thing that just never seemed like I would get to. Yet here I am. And I don't think I'm anything like who I thought I would be six years ago. That girl, at 15, expected great things out of me. I'm sure the last thing she would have ever imagined was a broke Bible college student with no solid plans for the future, still unmarried and taking a half break from the things I'm actually passionate about. She would have laughed. I'm not laughing. It's not that I mind being broke, because it's an awesome opportunity to trust God to carry me through; now that I'm here, Bible college isn't as bad as I imagined; and, I'm okay being single right now, because I definitely need a break. I just...I think I thought there would be more by now.

This next year holds a lot of promise. Most of it is up in the air, but I can't help but feel that this year is going to be good. Like with my sweater, I just have a feeling that good things will happen in it. This sudden optimism is puzzling and unfamiliar to the extreme. It feels so good.

I know that every day is a new day and a new chance to change things, but a new year just seems so much more...more opportunity I guess. I can look back over the year, sum it up, and work towards changing those things. I don't want to waste it.

Take a deep breath, Leanne. This is another chance to start over; this is the year you could finally be who you've always wanted to be.

You're On Fire When He's Near You

When I say that I want to be on fire for You, it's usually in a moment of passion that quickly dies like cooling embers in the winter wind. I ask You to empty me so that You can reign, and I wake up the next morning wondering what it will take to finally get to a place where I want to want You to empty me.

If this were the fight for my soul, this "thing" or my salvation, would it be easier to give up?

When I say that I want to be on fire for You, I don't think I realize the implications. I got an awesome picture tonight of a heart on fire, and I realized that I have not been holding up my end. When a building goes up in flames, I don't get to shout directions from the street below about what will stay and what will go. I don't yell to the fire: "Hey! Be careful of those family photos, they mean a lot. Sure, burn the rest, but I'd really like to keep my CD collection." No way. I stand aside and watch it burn to the ground. This should be the same. If my heart is truly consumed by Your inferno, everything else should be burned up: my selfish desires, my longing for "the old country" as Hebrews puts it, my hopes and dreams and failings and weaknesses. They should all evaporate in smoke, falling away in the wake of Your love inside of me.

When will I finally want to want You to empty me?

"Come be the fire inside of me..."

"I Have Twelve Million, Seventeen Thousand, Two Hundred Sixty-three Hormones, and All of Them Want You"

I went to see two plays tonight. I cannot remember the last play I went to see...at first, because I was fearfully jealous, and then because I was fearfully afraid. Tonight I broke the cycle of hearing, maybe-ing, pretending to think, and finally, though apparently reluctantly, declining.

In high school, I had a lot of doors opened to me academically. Without lifting a finger (sometimes literally), I could pull off stellar marks and still have time to go on a date, do my nails, write a novel and consume a butt-load of junk food and alcohol, all in one night. I prided myself on never having to try to get the grades I desired, but where I did put my extra effort was acting. Although it always came easy, I found that I could throw myself headlong into it and not regret one moment of practicing and memorizing for endlessly monotonous hours.

When I graduated, my plans all revolved around drama in some way: run off to LA (original) and somehow launch a professional acting career; finally learn to sing and go off to Broadway; college for performing arts. I'd been in several plays already, two with the theatre company I went to see tonight, and was confident in my future. Until God told me He had other ideas.

So tonight I faced my fears. I was still overwhelmingly jealous of every person on that stage, but a small part of me could still feel The Fear: the tiny nagging part of myself that wonders if I lost "it." But something else surfaced as well. As I watched the actors, I felt my body and my mind reacting in a way that has become foreign, but still feels like home. I knew what my actions would be for every line, I could see the lines on the page and replaced their ideas with my own inflections, and I felt my heart beat stronger with exhilaration.

Honesty time. I miss it desperately! Somehow, I need to find the time. Probably not this summer because I will be crazy busy, and school already seems too much to handle...but I have to. I feel compelled and I can't ignore it.

I am beyond passionate about this, and there is only one way I know to express it.