I Love You from Your Toes to Your Face

For one class, Senior Seminar, I am reading a book entitled "Ordering Your Private World." I am usually not one for devotional books that aren't straight from the Bible, but so far four out of the five chapters I have read have hit me...hard. Today's was about being a called person as opposed to a driven person; someone who has an inner confidence from God that withstands storms versus a reliance on self that leaves a hollow shell which is easily crushed. Gordon MacDonald's example of a driven person is King Saul, while his idea of a called person is John the Baptist.

John has always been a man who intrigues me because he was so different - to be quite honest, he was really just such a strange one - and yet he was so full of tenacity and foundational knowledge of who he was and who he most certainly was not: the Christ. The Bible is clear that John was chosen for his purpose before birth and was filled with the Holy Spirit while still in his mother's womb, but beyond that we know nothing until he is about 30 years old. And where did God pick up such a man who would raise his voice to proclaim the coming of His Son? In the desert.

As soon as the phrase "why a desert?" came up, I was gripped by a fear of what I would find. A picture of myself? A new reason to loath where I am and who I am? A model of how to live that I have obviously not lived up to, or I would not still be in this dry and fruitless place? Here's a sample of what I actually found.

"Why a desert? Perhaps because in deserts people can hear and brood upon things not easily heard or thought about in busy cities, where people are usually hurried, surrounded by noise, and steeped in self-importance. ...God drew John into the desert where He could speak to him.... What can one learn in deserts? I am inclined to [avoid them because] deserts are hard places in which to live, physically and spiritually. But the fact is unavoidable: The greatest lessons are potentially learned in deserts if one, in the midst of struggle, listen's for God's call."

Wow, if. Maybe that's why I don't feel like I'm learning anything. And then there are the things we can learn in deserts:

"In deserts, one learns about dryness...[and] dependence upon God. ...Only a person who has suffered desert-like hardship knows what it is like to totally cast himself upon God because there is nothing else left. There is a bright side to deserts, however. Wilderness provides a place where one is free to think, to plan, to prepare. And then, AT THE APPOINTED TIME, like John, HE COMES CHARGING OUT OF THE DRY LAND WITH A MESSAGE, something to say that will expose hypocrisy and superficiality. Issues are addressed that cut through to the bottomless depths of the human spirit. And an age of people is introduced to the Christ of God. In the desert a person can be called."

I don't feel very called most of the time, and I rarely feel as though I am part of a preparatory time leading towards the day when I will lead a charge for His kingdom. I feel very, very small.

This picture was the closest I could find to "my" desert. That is about what it looks like in my head...just brighter sky, hazier horizon, and more emptiness than a picture could ever convey. I do not know if I will ever be truly ready to leave it.

If It's Love We Decide that It's Forever, No One Else could Do It Better

I thought this process would finally rid me of the hardness of heart, soul, mind. I thought realizing the moment the hardness started would help me to let go of it completely and let Him take control. I thought I was beyond all this.

Instead I am becoming more hard then ever, trying to protect myself from the pain I am digging up. Layers upon layers of self-betrayal for the sake of protecting the softness; I only succeeded in crushing it.

I am sitting here, staring at a list of 35 people, and every one is more difficult to deal with than the last because each one represents at least one devastating time in my life. I have only worked through five, and even those aren't healed, just exposed. The wound is open and I'm sitting here waiting for someone to come along who knows how to stitch me back up without leaving a disfiguring scar.

The truth? I'm terrified. And it's holding me back from God. Once again I am discovering that if I suppress the pain I am suppressing Him; if I pretend to be alright for everyone else I cannot hope to be genuine with Him.

My Skin Is the Smoothest It has Been in Years

I haven't blogged in really big letters in a really long time.

Tonight was a miracle. I wrote a majorish paper (not including research time) in less than 2 hours! I feel as though the old Leanne is re-surfacing. How to explain? I remember what I wrote; this time last year, I probably wouldn't even know the topic of the paper I just finished.

Today was a miracle. I did not once give in to my old habits of procrastinating by watching movies, talking to people who I have no business talking to in that moment, or doing anything I would normally never do just to avoid what I absolutely need to do (cleaning, laundry, painting my toenails, painting a house, driving to London Drugs to get batteries for a mouse I never use anyway). And, most bizarre of all, I was in the library for three hours straight...not doing gratis.

And it only gets crazier. I have been doing homework non-stop the last few days, and I am not stressed. I feel the need to hurry a little bit, but I'm not sweating the small stuff. Oooooor the big stuff.

I desperately want this to last. On my own, never. If I give it to God, absolutely. Dude, I love Him.

No It don't Come easy, No It don't Come Fast

What to say?

I am being forced to dig within myself to the most hurting, buried parts, bring them to the surface, and face them head on. Through this process I am finding out exactly how much of my life I have repressed. It is a lot.

I remember the first day I taught myself to compartmentalize to the point where I could be physically present in a conversation, respond as required to the smallest degree possible, and record what was being said for later review. That way I could recall it later, piece by piece, and not deal with the hurt in front of the person. Unfortunately, I always forgot the last step; I would leave the traumatizing material buried and not even scratch the surface of my hurt. As these things have compounded over the last three years (the time since that date), it has only served to further compound the things inside that I had already done this with, unbeknownst to myself. Now when I try to access a memory from, say, the second grade, it's gone. I have to dig through the last fifteen years of garbage until I finally get into a place of clarity where it is possible to see the hurts (or even positive experiences) from way back then.

All I can say so far is how sad I am. I am sad that I have wasted so much of my life repressing instead of facing. So sad that I am now having to spend a significant chunk of my life working through this stuff instead of getting on with my life. Devastated by what I'm turning up, which if it had been addressed in the moment would have only been a scratch on the exterior of my soul; instead it has become a sickness to my soul. I cannot believe some of the things I am discovering.

This is going to be the hardest work I have faced thus far.

If Ever, Now Is the Time

1. Revelation of the week: Jesus saved me. I called, He answered, He rescued me. And long before I called, He called me out of the dirty cesspools of the earth to be perfect in His sight. That mistake I made five years ago? He saved me from the need for it before I made the decision to ruin a piece of my life forever, and then saved me from the guilt and shame afterwards. He did the same with every mistake since, and will continue to do the same for every poor choice I will ever make for the rest of my life. If I come up against a situation tomorrow, it amazes me that I can take a step back, assess, and realize that I am not a slave to those wants or selfish desires because He already saved me from them. I get this picture of me laying in this puddle of mud, looking longingly into the muck around me as if it is both everything I want and everything I hate within myself, and He is standing over me just holding out His hand and waiting to lift me out. I am not in too deep. I never have been. Before the creation of the universe, He had already predetermined to save me from the temptation to sin that I will face tomorrow, and hopefully by His grace I will succeed in holding on to this knowledge.
2. More than a month into the school year now, I am trying to re-evaluate how successful I have been in attaining the goals I set out to accomplish. Honestly, I feel like a failure. I haven't done anything wrong, but I still feel as though the weight of expectation is crushing me and I cannot just be myself. I can no longer just be. I either sit very close to the line because otherwise I would need to be a hermit, or I plant myself far away from the line and get burned by those who are supposed to be my allies. Sometimes I still ask myself why I haven't given up yet. I am appreciating this time of reflection and being free from certain tendencies that only lead to self-destruction, but I am beginning to feel smothered. I am either doing what is technically right but still feeling guilt (and I cannot tell if it is false guilt or the good kind designed to lead me to repentance) or doing what the letter says is right and feeling alone. I know I can press through if I just try hard enough, but at what point does sheer will fail me and leave me a heap of regret on the floor?
3. This weekend is a four day holiday for me (Thanksgiving on Monday and no class Tuesday), so I am using it to catch up on all my schoolwork and prepare for the coming week. I just need to press on, get down to the nitty-gritty, and realize that procrastination will only hurt me in the long run.
4. I don't have time, and it's not on my list of 100 books to read because I already have, but I am going to start reading Gone with the Wind again. I will not become her. I will not make her mistakes.
5. It is raining hard outside, the wind is blowing up a gale, and it is surprisingly warm for the middle of the night. All this to say, it is again the middle of the night. Old habits die hard. It looks like this may be another semester that is consistently visited by the A.M. fairy. What I wouldn't give to feel most invigorated and alive at 3 in the P.M. instead of the A.M.

I'm hopelessly lost without You.

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.

Day 40

Reading back, I feel like this blog has become some sort of testament to my time at college. In one click I can immediately transport myself back to who I was on my happiest afternoon, my longest night, the deepest depression, the worst mistakes, or my greatest successes.

George Santayana once said "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." I wonder what deep, dark issues George had that led to him feeling condemned; he speaks as a man who has been through some repetition himself. It's fascinating for me to walk back through the last two-and-a-bit years and see the threads that run all the way through; mistakes that could have been avoided had I only taken the time to look back and learn seem painfully obvious now.

Some things are ridiculously clear all of a sudden (sidenote: I love that phrase, "all of a sudden." It's deeper than we generally give it credit). I witnessed a proposal yesterday, and rather than making me feel jealous or anxious for my own time, a shocking thought came to me: what makes me believe that I deserve any less than that? I have been so willing to settle, in the past, for anyone who would look my way and promise whatever they thought would make me stay awhile. Now I am seeing more clearly. The disconnect between the ideal man, the one who I will spend the rest of my life with, and the boys I am happy to be flattered by and pursued by has been obliterated. It has suddenly come together that if I want the next one to be The One, I have to allow Jesus to heal my heart so that I can be worthy of him; I need to decide what are the non-negotiables so that when a man pursues me I won't get swept up in the moment.

Thankfully I have until the end of April to figure out my life and my heart, but that doesn't stop me from thinking and hearing and seeing and feeling. I am looking around me and seeing the amazing qualities of the guys surrounding me, and I can appreciate them for who they are while still respecting myself and them.

Here's to turning over a new leaf.

And I Hate how Much

Why does everything come hard right now? Nothing is just natural. Even my writing is scattered and halting...like my every move. I've been putting on a brave face (or at least trying; I'd see through it if I weren't me), but I'm cracking on the inside. Every look is another wrench in my heart. Why? Because I'm crazy.

The end.

I Think about It Over and Over Again

Things are slowly sinking in.

• I will not excel this semester the way I am used to.
• People think things about me that are unchangeable.
• Change will come. Slowly.
• Life will not turn out how I expected, and most likely not the way I want.

And then there are the other things. I have two bags and a suitcase full of make-up that do not see me the way God sees me. Sometimes I still believe a can of Pepsi will save my day. I have Facebook messages from years ago that I am afraid to delete. I have a Twenty in my Bible that still hasn't hit my heart.

Every day, I am still on the verge of losing myself all over again.

We Don't have to Talk about the Ones that We Can't Live Without

The only thing worse than hating afterwards the thing you do is to be wrongly accused of doing that same thing while not even having the momentary satisfaction of having done it.