I was chatting with a friend and she brought up how next time she sees me, she'll be fasting because Lent starts tomorrow. I, of course, was like "Lent? But Christmas was like four days ago!" On the account that I have a skewed sense of time and the fast time, you know, passes, I hadn't even thought about what to fast from until last night. Firstly, I thought of the usual things: sweets? That would be easy. I'm not really a dessert person. Tumblr? Pinterest? Those would be hard to give up. Or I could give up, like, control. In my journal I literally have a list labeled LENT and it contains an array of nouns followed by question marks.
The control thing was a joke at first. Sort of like the "I'm giving up homework for Lent," but the more I thought about it, the more beneficial it seemed. One of my other friends told me "Fasting doesn't have to be something that's bad for you. It's about giving up something that's distracting." My desire for dictatorship over my life and my situations definitely distracts me from following God. I feel the constant need to plan ahead, running future (improbable) scenarios in my head, scheming, over-packing, etc. My plans leave little room for flexibility or trust. They're always centered around me with few chances of surprises, both pleasant and otherwise. Although, the way I'm always clutching at control makes most surprises unpleasant because they weren't in my plan. Is that really a good way to live? So, this Lent, I'm giving up control.
"Um, Julia? How does one give up control for Lent?" Honestly? No idea. And maybe that's the point? Jumping into a hole where I can't see the bottom, I haven't made any lists, and I don't have a game plan. I'm trying to hand the pen and clipboard to the real play maker. (Did I just make a sports reference? Wow. Giving up control already...)
I am not good at going with the flow unless that flow is my stream of consciousness so this will be hard for me and I'll probably slip up. A lot. And maybe wipe out a few times, but I really hope this will be a good opportunity to recenter my life and stop craving power. Please pray for me. If you have any book recommendations or Bible passages you think I should read, please message me or post them as a comment. I need all the help I can get!
As an aside: I will also be giving up Tumblr, Pinterest, and Twitter on the account that I waste like a billion hours on those things. So if I don't reblog your awesome pictures or favorite your tweets until after Easter, that is why.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNGvD21u34I
(you thought this blog was going to be about Frozen, didn't you? Nope. Jesus stuff.)
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Knees in the Gravel
When I was a little kid, I got injured like every two seconds. Whether it was going down a slide backwards or sunning into a door frame (whoops that was yesterday), I was (am) always getting hurt. I could blame it on my astigmatism or just accept that I'm chronically clumsy, but some inherent trait is constantly getting me into scrapes.
The summer I was six, my family went to Cedar Campus Family Camp for a week. The Week of Bloody Knees for me. I remember stumbling along the gravel roads, clinging to my dad's hand. Gravel roads are a nightmare for clumsy girls and it didn't help that my dad's only mode of transportation is the power walk. I kept tripping. A lot. Every time, my dad would lift me up, set me on a rock, and wrap my knees in red medical tape. When my tripping and flailing were uncontrollable, he carried me.
This reminds me of what it's like to "walk" with God. It's no stroll through the garden. His strides are long and smooth over rough roads, while we're six years old, struggling along, falling constantly, and sometimes bruised in places we don't remember bumping.We will fall. We'll always fall, but He will always pick us up, clean our wounds, and bandage our knees. He'll even carry us.
My dad is a great dad. I wish he could be everyone's father; he's that wonderful. He isn't perfect, but that's okay because I have two fathers. One of them is perfect and can be everyone's father.
The road is harsh and your legs will never be long enough to keep up, but He has your hand. And when it's more than you can handle, God breaks out the piggy back.
The summer I was six, my family went to Cedar Campus Family Camp for a week. The Week of Bloody Knees for me. I remember stumbling along the gravel roads, clinging to my dad's hand. Gravel roads are a nightmare for clumsy girls and it didn't help that my dad's only mode of transportation is the power walk. I kept tripping. A lot. Every time, my dad would lift me up, set me on a rock, and wrap my knees in red medical tape. When my tripping and flailing were uncontrollable, he carried me.
This reminds me of what it's like to "walk" with God. It's no stroll through the garden. His strides are long and smooth over rough roads, while we're six years old, struggling along, falling constantly, and sometimes bruised in places we don't remember bumping.We will fall. We'll always fall, but He will always pick us up, clean our wounds, and bandage our knees. He'll even carry us.
My dad is a great dad. I wish he could be everyone's father; he's that wonderful. He isn't perfect, but that's okay because I have two fathers. One of them is perfect and can be everyone's father.
The road is harsh and your legs will never be long enough to keep up, but He has your hand. And when it's more than you can handle, God breaks out the piggy back.
"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8
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