consecrating myself

Every day I am reminded of how desperately the world needs Jesus Christ.

I look around and see people. Some beg, some are homeless, and some try to make a living out of what they can sell. I am reminded of how much I take for granted: food, clothing, shelter, and access to water and electricity. I have enough of these and yet I find myself sometimes in an attitude of ungratefulness. I know I’m not perfect and I’m far from that. I recognize that I am a part of the brokenness in this world. And I choose to be an instrument of Hope.

My friend sent me off to Mexico with Oswald Chambers’ book, My Utmost for His Highest. His thoughts and devotions have become a daily part of my life. I reflect on his wisdom and work at applying it to my life. His devotion to the Person of Christ has made me want to know Him better. I desire to have a deeper and intimate relationship with Christ, to know His heart and be like Him so that I may please Him. Following Christ in the gospels and paying attention to his behaviors, His teachings, and His attitude toward certain things and people help me to check my own heart, my attitude, and behaviors.

Chambers writes, “Consecration is the act of continually separating myself from everything except that which God has appointed me to do.” I don’t ask God every day what it is that He has appointed me to do. I simply just do what I know I am here to do in Mexico: to be in relationship with my team and the people God draws me to (and those He draws to me) as I grow in the skills of learning and teaching. During down time I enjoy reading and writing as well as watching the screen. Whether it be a video on YouTube or a movie, sometimes I walk away with weight on my heart. The cares of the world seep in through my eyes and hope begins to darken.

Jesus said that those who follow Him will be hated because of Him (Matthew 10:22). I am well aware of division, especially within the Hmong community, because of Christ. It hurts but this is what Jesus was talking about when He gave that warning. Yet Jesus commands His followers to love God, first and foremost, and our neighbors, which include every single person.

So, love? I ask. Give me the strength, I pray. Unless I consecrate my life and service to God, I cannot be an instrument of Hope. Only in Him do I have security in knowing that all of my basic needs are provided for. Only in Christ can I love deeply. In a world where people are asleep, seeking after and dreaming of immediate pleasure in things and people that will love them back, I need to look to Christ.   

asking for too much

Friends are those I share laughter, tears, and silence with. They are are not afraid to speak the Word of Truth, especially when it is desired and not just needed. I have shared my heart with many people, but my friends are those who've share their hearts with me, too. They have been there for me and continue to come through. However, I have found that some friends are only there when they feel needed. I think that for some, it seems that I only come around when I am "needed." I am not exactly sure if this is a terribly sad thing. But as I'm processing being here in Mexico and not having the same kind of access to certain things, I am wondering what kind of friend I have been and am. I truly believe that people reflect each other in some way or another. And I am at a place of reflecting on what kind of friend I have been.

If a friend asks me to do them a favor, and I know I can't do it, I will say no. And I respect the few friends of mine that are honest enough to tell me no. But if it's a favor I'm not sure about...have I let them know that I need more time to think about it? Or have I left them hanging? I know that people stay busy, and I wonder if I've acted too busy for friends? Too busy to reach out and encourage? I know I shouldn't feel like an inconvenience, but sometimes I do feel like what I'm asking for is too much, therefore, I feel like the inconvenience for even have asked. And I don't like feeling like that. The natural reaction is to want to be independent of people, of friends. And that is undoubtedly unhealthy.

People are created for each other, to need and want each other, and the extreme of that shows itself in the idolization others. I know many people put up a front as though they didn't have a need for others, but deep down there is a desire to relate, to connect, to have, and to hold. And doing those very things can be pretty scary, especially at first. My may my pride be the first to go.

There are some questions that ask for too much. Some do not. And I think that in knowing when I am asking for too much, I can gauge between who I can call on and who I cannot. I think this is a fair way to measure how true my friendship is. I believe that despite how busy life can get, a true friend will always try to do their best to help in any way possible. Asking for too much is when the resources are not there and access is rather impossible.

So, with my limitations here in Mexico, I will have to depend on friends for help. And when they cannot come through, I'll just have to make do with what I have. I already have the greatest friend in the world, Jesus Christ, and He is more than enough.

follow through

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is follow through. I realize that I become so self-absorbed that I second everything else to my needs, my insecurities, my, my, my. I find it very annoying because it's apart of me that I don't like. It was only in the last year or so that I realized this unhealthy habit of mine, this habit of running away, of not facing my issues. I have allowed many good things to go, things that didn't really have a chance to show itself. I ran before I could even see.

My eyesight is poor. I have to keep in contacts or wear my glasses, especially in the dark. I used to wish that I had better vision, so I could see the expression on people's faces - if they were happy, sad, honest, or deceptive. Wanting to see people's eyes and their facial expressions, for me, helped me to gauge my behavior and responses, which were usually reactions. There were many times when I was content with not seeing faces. I didn't want to know their true feelings; I didn't want to read people. Even now, there are times when I would prefer to go without my glasses, but I know that it costs me too much to not see into people's eyes. So, I'm stuck with this dilenma that I'm learning to workout.

I love people. But I get in the way of loving people. To love means to give myself unselfishly AND to accept love from others. But I have found this to be difficult. I am so full of myself that it's hard to love myself. I know all my flaws, and everything about me that is unattractive. And I used to think that if people really saw me, they would run away. So, I used this little lie as the excuse to run away. When I looked in the mirror, I thought it was really me that I was seeing, but it was this pitiful child looking back at me. I mean, with all the glory and grace that God molded me from, I was wasting away. And when I realized this through the tangible love from my family, friends, and fiance I knew I had to get over myself.

Even though I have found loving me difficult, I am worth it. One man proved his love to me. His love that is unconditional, that did not require me to do anything but receive. And so I did despite all of the ugliness inside of me. He continues to call forth from within me the beauty that is much more powerful, more desired. This man, Jesus Christ, never once thought of me as unlovable. He sees through this front of mine and He isn't discouraged by it. Because Jesus never gave up on reaching out to me, I want to reach further than I've ever imagined. When I think about how Christ followed through, all the way to the Cross, I am encouraged to keep growing in love.

In Him, all things are possible.

grief and sorrow for a new day

2 Corinthians 7:10 ^"For the kind of sorrow God wants us to experience leads us away from sin and results in salvation. There’s no regret for that kind of sorrow. But worldly sorrow, which lacks repentance, results in spiritual death."

For numerous people and things I have felt sadness, but it was only a few years ago that I truly felt sorrow and learned how to grieve. Three years ago my mentor Jim passed away in his sleep. He didn't have a happy past but dedicated the last few years of his life to walk with God. I won't tell his story, but if you read Psalms 38, you will get a picture of his sorrow in life. During the time Jim took me under his wings, he taught me many things about life and helped me see its possibilities. Most important of all the lessons, he taught me how to rely on God. We met when I was a senior in high school, during a time in my life that was desperate for direction and guidance. There were many things that I came to believe about myself, things that were mostly negative and didn't affirm my identity. My relationships and experiences had left me broken. I was lost. I dwelled in my misery until I became blind to any hope of seeing light. This was when I remembered God.

During Jim's last few years of life, and those being my first few years of rehabilitating my heart, I battled before God with my past that constantly haunted me. I had agreed with various people who told me that I was just a nice person, that I was mediocre, and that was really it to me. I was taken advantage of for numerous reasons and found myself having to battle out how this took effect in me. Over a period of months of dealing with feelings of self-hate, of anger, of rejection, and abandonment, I was victorious in reclaiming my identity in Christ. But that was only the beginning; I was barely standing at this point.

Now I was ready for the healing to begin, so I thought. In relearning how to live as a follower of Christ, I found myself hurt and confused many a times. My heart was still very fragile and I constantly found myself at the foot of Christ, crying in sorrow and anger. My past wasn't going to easily let me go. It was like coming out of a long-term relationship. The memories were still there. The blame and accusation. The guilt and shame. But I held onto Christ. Even though living with the pain seemed like a much easier option, I couldn't move on with my life. I wanted to love. Deeply. But I had to let go of who I used to be. The old me couldn't love because she was so battered and bruised.

When Jim passed away, I felt his death water my life. I knew I was now on my own in this journey of healing, but he gave all he could until his death just so I could have a chance to be the woman that God created me to be. Jim saw my glory way before I could. He spoke life into mine and affirmed my identity in Christ. But those few years weren't all sunshine and smiles. I was angry at Jim for caring about me, for loving me. I was angry because I felt like I was indebted to him for his kindness, but he wanted nothing more than for me to take hold of the glory of the woman that God intended. Jim helped me carry my burden. He often suffered from my anger, but he never left. He didn't abandon me. And I thank God that He took Jim home to a better place.

That was three years ago. Last year, I was at the peak of my sorrow from the past. I've been in a relationship with my boyfriend (Fugie), now fiance, for four years. At the beginning of those years, we were close friends who shared the things of our hearts - from stories about family, friends, and past relationships to our sorrows of yesterdays and joys of tomorrow. Two years later we decided to commit to a serious relationship. And last year I broke up with him.

The moments leading up to the break-up were pitiful, but I didn't see it as that. I started to believe that Fugie deserved someone better, that I wasn't feminine or fragile enough for a man like him. I started to agree with the negative thoughts and feelings that kept knocking at my heart. I have always been happy with Fugie. He has been a tremendous part of my healing and he has helped me grow in so many ways. I was content with Fugie fighting for my heart and I didn't even think to fight for us. So, in my pit of brokenness, I cried out to God, and all I could ask was why? Why had I done this? And the moment that Fugie called me back, I knew that I had to fight. He was still fighting for me. I wanted him in my life. I wanted our relationship. I wanted my heart. And since then, I have been fighting and am truly happy.

It's not all sunshine and smiles, but it does come after sorrow. It was only until I felt sorrow in my heart and let it take its course that I was able to live again. Jesus Christ died so that I can live. He is the source of my joy and happiness. When Jesus was beaten and crucified, God grieved. Oswald Chambers calls it the "tragedy of God." Since I've been in Mexico, I've been reflecting on the tragedy of God. I believe that in order to really follow Christ, we must grieve His death, which was done to redeem us from our brokenness that's a result of our sins that hinder us from living life to its fullest. (I know different people have different ideas about what this means to live life to the fullest, but I am talking about the freedom of our hearts. When our hearts are free from bondage and bagges, we can then experience a deep joy, which I cannot honestly say I know what that's all about yet.)

As I continue to be sorrowful for the tragedy of God, I continue to pray for the people that Christ died for. I look around everyday and thank God for the redemption that we have through Jesus Christ. There is always reason to feel sorrow when thinking about humanity. Let us not dwell in our misery, but look to Christ for healing. It isn't easy but it's worth it. I hope that you desire healing and life enough to grieve over your past and let go. You don't have to remain in your brokenness. Get up and pick yourself up. Make a choice to follw Christ; He knows what your heart desires, so don't hide anymore. Come forth into a new day.