love is messy sometimes.

I want to write about this now, so I never forget.

Tonight some of the college students and I loaded up some food and jackets and headed downtown. At the bus station I was surprised to see a lady I know fairly well, through my time working at We Will Go. She and her four kids were waiting for a van that comes to pick people up and take them to a nearby church gymnasium, where folks can find temporary shelter in the cold months. I was horrified to see some of her kids were walking around the bus station barefoot, and sent one of our students to get shoes for them right away. Long story short, we ended up at their apartment complex about an hour later, delivering the shoes. We came inside the apartment and my heart broke at all I saw. There was hardly any furniture, just a dingy couch and a table in the corner. Dirty clothes were everywhere, the floor was filthy, and the whole place smelled terrible due to William's bulging dirty diaper and another of the children, who was covered in his own urine. Their mom seemed to be in her own world, totally disconnected as we played with the kids and put the clean socks and new shoes on their feet. They were overjoyed. Finally I knelt down beside the couch to speak with Susanna. I asked her if there was anything more we could do. She told me she didn't really want to be in this situation, and promptly called her man into the house and quietly asserted the same. The level of his voice began to steadily rise as did my level of discomfort. I said nothing else until he left the room, then wrote down my number and told her to call if she needed anything, anything at all. I pray she does.

What broke my heart more than anything was realizing my deficit of love and selflessness. I watched as Bethany, a girl from our group, picked up the kid with the seriously dirty diaper and held him tight. He had come to me first, with arms extended, wanting to be held....and I didn't hold him, because I didn't want to get dirty. Watching her love them so fully was beautiful to me, and really convicting. I was ashamed of my own actions in light of hers.

I never want to fail at loving someone again, merely because I don't want to get messy.

I still have much to learn about Your love. I was truly humbled tonight...help me remember what I saw. Amen.

keep breathing.

"the storm is coming, but i don't mind. people are dying, i close my blinds. all that i know is i'm breathing now. i want to change the world - instead, i sleep. i want to believe in more than you and me. all that i know is i'm breathing, all i can do is keep breathing...." (ingrid michaelson)

these lyrics really resonate with me. they basically sum up what depression does to me. all the passion i have for life is overwhelmed by numb, and all i can do is keep breathing.

the past few days have been hard. i'm not going to lie. i've still made myself do things and be with people, but it has by no means been easy. the worst part about this is that i know those close to me suffer along with me. i try not to let it affect the way i act, but i spend most of my day trying to pretend like things are fine, and by the time i get around my real friends i'm exhausted of that.

for months now i've considered going to see a psychiatrist. counseling has helped a lot, but i still feel really out of control sometimes. but at this point it feels like it's too late. i leave in six weeks, which doesn't give enough time to even discern whether or not the medicine is right for me or working properly and all that. realizing this makes me feel trapped. i know God is going to take care of me, because he certainly has so far. i've just recently allowed myself the freedom in my mind to utilize the resources he's placed out there, though. but now i feel like medicine isn't much of an option, not before mexico.

last night i was restless. i tried laying outside in the cold listening to music and playing the piano at the church. i finally headed home but when i got there, instead of pulling in the driveway, i kept driving. and cried. i drove the long way to downtown jackson, then past all the places where i'd normally go to visit the homeless. i didn't see a soul. finally i found one man, camped on a bench at a covered bus stop. i parked my car down the street and walked to where he was. he had a grocery cart in front of him, probably to block the wind. i tried making conversation and offered him a blanket, which he refused with a mere shake of his head. despite all my attempts, he never said a word, just kept shaking his head. it's a bad night when not even the homeless will talk to you. finally i simply went home, completely out of tears and energy.

what a week.

i'm thankful that You get me.

Mexico bound.

I have five more after-school days with my kids at Mission First. After 2 and a half years working with them, it seems unreal. I love them so much more than I can say. I'm gonna miss those little boogers.

Oh, the times, they are a-changin'.

48 days 'til Mexico. I feel more ready than I ever have. Sure, it'll be difficult, probably in ways I would never anticipate. But after all I've been going through lately...bring it on.

God, thank you for blessing my life. I thank you that you love me enough to have prepared good works in advance for me to do! What an incredible thought, Lord! It's such an honor to work for you and with you. I can't wait to see what Mexico holds for me....what you hold for me there. I love you. Please help me to stay focused on you and to serve you well in these last days here. You are worthy of my best no matter where I am. You are good, oh Lord. Thank you for loving me....

Faithfulness.

So often in these situations, I want to quit. Throw in the towel. Give up completely. I replay in my mind time after time when I've been in the exact same moment, dealing with the same pain, the same disappointment. I wonder if it'll ever go away, or more importantly, if it's even worth waiting out to see. I feel desperate, and worse, I feel alone.

And every time, without fail, Jesus, you step in. You speak words of love to me. You remind me that you will never leave or forsake me. That you are the lifter of my head, and the strength of my life. That you are with me. That you will sustain me. That you hear me. That you care. That you are working things out, even though I may not see it just yet.

And that is more than enough for me.

For your faithfulness, Jesus, thank you. I absolutely adore you.

by grace through faith

Brother Phil's sermon this morning was such a beautiful reminder to me of some things God has been teaching me. In a nutshell: we cannot live lives pleasing to God in our own power; we must allow His power to work through us. Ephesians 2:8-9 tells us that it is only by God's grace we are saved, not by our own works, so that no one has any room to boast. By God's grace we received Christ. Paul writes in Colossians, "just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him." (Colossians 2:6) By grace through faith we received him. By grace through faith we walk with him daily, not striving in our own strength, but, as Paul writes, "struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me." (Colossians 1:29)

Understanding this truth brings such freedom. It is not by any merit of my own, but only because of Christ in me, that I have the hope of glory. Legalism perishes, and I am left to follow Jesus with reckless abandon, by grace through faith.

The Lord will receive me.

Last night I nearly had a meltdown.

I won't go into all the details, but I was feeling neglected. I'm leaving the country in two months, and I've had almost no quality time with my family for a while. Tears were filling my eyes, and I started to turn the music up to blast out my own thoughts. Instead I turned it off completely, and began talking to God. I asked him, as I will admit I so often do, why? Why is my family broken like it is? Why couldn't things have worked out differently? And why do they seem to be steadily getting worse? This is hard, God.

A Scripture reference popped into my head, seemingly from thin air. Psalm 27:10. I had a sneaking suspicion of what it was, but I wasn't certain. I headed to the church's prayer room and opened my Bible. Yep.

"Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me."

Amazing how God reminds me that He's there. Even when I feel like no one is - or when truly, no one is. He is my father. And He loves me. And even when those I love the most forsake me, He receives me with open arms. And puts new songs of joy in my heart. Thank you, Daddy!

My heart says seek His face, I will seek your face, I will seek your face. My desire is to be with you, in your dwelling place, in your dwelling place. You're my God....you're my God. I will not fear, my salvation is here. You are my light, you are the strength of my life.

No one reads this anyway.

So I suppose I can use the space how I want. Finally I have begun to admit, to myself and to others, that I am struggling with depression. I have been for a very long time, but have been in deep denial, due to my own pride and desire to maintain a healthy image in front of others, as well as a plethora of reasons I had contrived to explain away all of the sleepless nights, lost weight, lack of appetite, irritability, disinterest, inability to focus, and desire to do nothing except curl up under the covers in my purple bed and sleep.

Just for the record: depression is not prolonged sadness. It's not something that can be "fixed" with ice cream or hugs or shoe shopping, or a good night's rest (which can be pretty hard to come by when you're depressed, anyway). If it were that easy, then I would have already fixed it. I'm a fairly smart and resourceful girl. I just finished Sylvia Plath's the bell jar - which one of my friends informed me was not beneficial reading material for a depressed person - and her description of depression made so much sense to me. Depression is like being stifled, suffocated in stale air, 'til all one's life and breath and energy is gone. It's a heaviness under which even the simplest tasks can appear insurmountable.

God and I have been back and forth lately. I know he can do anything, he could merely speak one word in his infinite power and heal my mind completely, once and for all. And I asked him why he won't - to be completely transparent, I have begged and pleaded for him to do so - to which I received no response. I realize God has an amazing knack for taking our human pain, trials, and suffering, and turning them into something beautiful that brings glory to his name. This is a skill for which I have always admired him greatly. I just hate that he insists on doing it in my life at the present time (and I hate that it is most likely a roundabout answer to some prayer or another of my very own, one of those prayers for patience or something of the sort). I also realize that I should probably be a bit more mature by this point in my journey, and just endure this hardship I'm going through with grace and poise. Instead I find myself falling to pieces at every turn. I tend to be messy when it comes to these types of things. Knowing God, and knowing he knows this about me, that's probably even part of his master plan - if I'm constantly broken, I'm dependent on him in a way I wouldn't be otherwise. So although it's currently quite hard for me to muster up emotion, there has been a different kind of intimacy between us lately that could be the cause for true rejoicing.

In his sermon this morning, the guest pastor shared a story that spoke directly to me. A man fell into a deep cavern and was trapped there for several weeks without food or water before he was found and rescued. When asked in an interview how he held out for so long, alone in such darkness, he replied that he could see a tiny pinpoint of light at the top and it gave him hope. I immediately placed myself in that story, in the depths of a cavern with darkness closing in all around. Right now, all I can see is a speck of light high above - but it's there, and it's enough.

I'm not giving up.