A Single-Minded Pursuit of Biblical Womanhood
Unbroken Dreams
The other day, I had an inclination to pull out my old This Foreign Land cd and listen to it.
That never happens.
Seriously, that never happens.
I tend to avoid it because I can't stand the sound of my own voice, or worse, people thinking I like to listen to the sound of my own voice.
And, there is so much sadness associated with that time of my life- broken dreams, broken hearts, broken friendships. Oh, but that's college, I suppose.
But I wanted to hear it this week. I thought Emerson might like it. She likes things like that.
Of course, that's no excuse for my continuing to listen to it the next day, on my way to work with an empty car seat in my backseat.
As the familiar tunes I had so painstakingly pinned burst on my memory from my car stereo, the short drive down Adams Street became a trip down memory lane. I could anticipate each strum of the guitar, tap my fingers to every tap of the symbols, nod my head to each "bum-bum" the bass made. Heavenly. Like youth. Like unbroken dreams.
I'll admit, there are regrets. Regrets that have kept that cd hid away in my visor for nearly six years.
But music draws me like lost love. After all, it's given me more than any lover ever could. No caress is so tender as that caress of the soul. And it's true, I've often mistaken mutual passion for mutual affection. Who can resist a music-man? What girl doesn't swoon over a guitar player? And two people who can sit for hours in intense focus on the same occupation, is it not love?
But don't get any ideas. I won't be calling up any of my former band member on this, or any other, melancholy day. Not everything that has passed needs resurrected.
Even so, it's good to remember every now and then.
That never happens.
Seriously, that never happens.
I tend to avoid it because I can't stand the sound of my own voice, or worse, people thinking I like to listen to the sound of my own voice.
And, there is so much sadness associated with that time of my life- broken dreams, broken hearts, broken friendships. Oh, but that's college, I suppose.
But I wanted to hear it this week. I thought Emerson might like it. She likes things like that.
Of course, that's no excuse for my continuing to listen to it the next day, on my way to work with an empty car seat in my backseat.
As the familiar tunes I had so painstakingly pinned burst on my memory from my car stereo, the short drive down Adams Street became a trip down memory lane. I could anticipate each strum of the guitar, tap my fingers to every tap of the symbols, nod my head to each "bum-bum" the bass made. Heavenly. Like youth. Like unbroken dreams.
I'll admit, there are regrets. Regrets that have kept that cd hid away in my visor for nearly six years.
But music draws me like lost love. After all, it's given me more than any lover ever could. No caress is so tender as that caress of the soul. And it's true, I've often mistaken mutual passion for mutual affection. Who can resist a music-man? What girl doesn't swoon over a guitar player? And two people who can sit for hours in intense focus on the same occupation, is it not love?
But don't get any ideas. I won't be calling up any of my former band member on this, or any other, melancholy day. Not everything that has passed needs resurrected.
Even so, it's good to remember every now and then.
 |
| the whole band 2007 |
Studying
Grad school.
It calls to me like destiny and it seems I'm bound to go. I've already made up my mind where, what for, and how much I'm going to have to spend on this venture.
I had finally decided that this was thing to do. Exactly what would suit me best at this season in my life. I was all ready to jump in with both feet.
And then, the recruiter from my school of choice informed me of a little test called the GRE.
Call me naive, but I'd never heard of it before. Never knew such an exam could even exist.
So, as it turns out, before I can go to grad school, I have to sit for this exam...like the SATs....like I didn't already earn a bachelors degree....like I'm not about to spend $30,000 to go back to school.
So, Friend bought this for me last night:
I'll admit, digging into nearly 600 pages of preparatory reading for a standardized test that includes, of all things, math, is not really how I want to spend my free time over the next three months.
But, it seems my course is set if I plan to go back to school in the fall.
It calls to me like destiny and it seems I'm bound to go. I've already made up my mind where, what for, and how much I'm going to have to spend on this venture.
I had finally decided that this was thing to do. Exactly what would suit me best at this season in my life. I was all ready to jump in with both feet.
And then, the recruiter from my school of choice informed me of a little test called the GRE.
Call me naive, but I'd never heard of it before. Never knew such an exam could even exist.
So, as it turns out, before I can go to grad school, I have to sit for this exam...like the SATs....like I didn't already earn a bachelors degree....like I'm not about to spend $30,000 to go back to school.
So, Friend bought this for me last night:
 |
| Notice how Charles snuck into this picture? |
I'll admit, digging into nearly 600 pages of preparatory reading for a standardized test that includes, of all things, math, is not really how I want to spend my free time over the next three months.
But, it seems my course is set if I plan to go back to school in the fall.
Mean Green
So, Saturday morning I was all: Clean eating and juicing and healthy living! I bought a juicer on Friday and a garden's worth of vegetables. I also purchased some organic staples like milk and buter and almonds, ya know, the clean stuff. On Saturday morning, I turned on Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead and let the inspiration wash over me, celebrating my decision to take the juice plunge.
This is what I started with:
It took a few kale leaves to figure out how my juicer worked, but once I cleaned up the liquid green mess, and learned the difference between the spout and the pulp basket, I was feelin' like a rock star. Friend and Charles came in to watch...and maybe to laugh a little.
The end result:
That's right, a nice tall glass of Mean Green.
I don't think I could have been more proud of myself. The first sip...not bad.
And then it hit my tongue.
Sorry juice lovers, but all the lies you're telling about Mean Green not tasting like lawn clippings are criminal.
Seriously, it tastes like the stuff you drink before a colonoscopy.
Not my fondest memories.
And now I'm not so sure about all this clean-eating, fruits and vegetables, natural health remedies stuff. I had to think about it over a delicious cookie dough concrete mixer at Culvers.
The jury's still out.
What I do know is that I'm unsatisfied with my current weight and that eating unhealthy food doesn't seem to alleviate my disatitisfaction. Though I have been losing weight lately, I want something more than just a smaller dress size. I want better health.
I think that means scaling back instead of overhauling. Let's face it, throwing out everything in my cupboards is not really an option. And never having another Starbucks Frappucino, uh...yeah right!
So, my new goal is to cut out fried foods, soda pop, and *gasp* sweet tea....
......Okay maybe not entirely.
See how hard this is.
This is what I started with:
The end result:
That's right, a nice tall glass of Mean Green.
I don't think I could have been more proud of myself. The first sip...not bad.
And then it hit my tongue.
Sorry juice lovers, but all the lies you're telling about Mean Green not tasting like lawn clippings are criminal.
Seriously, it tastes like the stuff you drink before a colonoscopy.
Not my fondest memories.
And now I'm not so sure about all this clean-eating, fruits and vegetables, natural health remedies stuff. I had to think about it over a delicious cookie dough concrete mixer at Culvers.
The jury's still out.
What I do know is that I'm unsatisfied with my current weight and that eating unhealthy food doesn't seem to alleviate my disatitisfaction. Though I have been losing weight lately, I want something more than just a smaller dress size. I want better health.
I think that means scaling back instead of overhauling. Let's face it, throwing out everything in my cupboards is not really an option. And never having another Starbucks Frappucino, uh...yeah right!
So, my new goal is to cut out fried foods, soda pop, and *gasp* sweet tea....
......Okay maybe not entirely.
See how hard this is.
Eating and Such
Dear Mary,
I think it's time for me to stop eating fried foods. Yikes. It's scarier in writing than just mulling it over in my head. I've been fascinated lately with this idea of "clean eating." After watching a couple of informative documentaries (Hungry for Change and Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead), I'm pondering this idea for health reasons, not just weight-loss.
Last night Evan (my little brother) and I ran five miles in the cold. We're training for a marathon in June. I've been training since October and am amazed at how my body still refuses to run the first mile. I've found that it takes a mile to really warm up while I limp and gimp like an awkward, lame dog trying to get down the street. I wonder if part of it's a lack of proper nutrition. I usually can start running in normal fashion by the second mile and keep a pretty steady pace (though slow) throughout the run. But I'm usually pretty sore afterward, and I can never run two days in a row.
So, I'm wondering if adding in more fruits and vegetables, cutting out the sugar and wheat products, and rethinking the way I feed my body would make a better runner out of me...among other things.
And the funny thing is, it's all a very terrifying prospect. If I were fearless, I'd just do it. Just go out and buy a juicer, all the fresh vegetables, all the fresh fruits, pitch all the processed garbage in my cabinets, and eat clean from this day forward. But eating is a funny thing. It's not so much about food as it is about custom, social habit, and even personal beliefs. If it were all a matter of putting the right nutrition in one's body, we'd all be eating healthier, living longer, and looking and feeling better. But it's not.
More on this later as I sort it out. As for the other things you mentioned in your last letter, I agree with you whole-heartedly. Funny thing that we should be reading the same authors and coming to the same conclusions so many miles apart. And like you, I prefer to remain an observant student at this time as I find myself unable to argue my position for lack of knowledge on the subject. But that's part of the learning process, keeping silent until I know what to say. Oh that I would always have the wisdom and self-control to do so!
I think it's time for me to stop eating fried foods. Yikes. It's scarier in writing than just mulling it over in my head. I've been fascinated lately with this idea of "clean eating." After watching a couple of informative documentaries (Hungry for Change and Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead), I'm pondering this idea for health reasons, not just weight-loss.
Last night Evan (my little brother) and I ran five miles in the cold. We're training for a marathon in June. I've been training since October and am amazed at how my body still refuses to run the first mile. I've found that it takes a mile to really warm up while I limp and gimp like an awkward, lame dog trying to get down the street. I wonder if part of it's a lack of proper nutrition. I usually can start running in normal fashion by the second mile and keep a pretty steady pace (though slow) throughout the run. But I'm usually pretty sore afterward, and I can never run two days in a row.
So, I'm wondering if adding in more fruits and vegetables, cutting out the sugar and wheat products, and rethinking the way I feed my body would make a better runner out of me...among other things.
And the funny thing is, it's all a very terrifying prospect. If I were fearless, I'd just do it. Just go out and buy a juicer, all the fresh vegetables, all the fresh fruits, pitch all the processed garbage in my cabinets, and eat clean from this day forward. But eating is a funny thing. It's not so much about food as it is about custom, social habit, and even personal beliefs. If it were all a matter of putting the right nutrition in one's body, we'd all be eating healthier, living longer, and looking and feeling better. But it's not.
More on this later as I sort it out. As for the other things you mentioned in your last letter, I agree with you whole-heartedly. Funny thing that we should be reading the same authors and coming to the same conclusions so many miles apart. And like you, I prefer to remain an observant student at this time as I find myself unable to argue my position for lack of knowledge on the subject. But that's part of the learning process, keeping silent until I know what to say. Oh that I would always have the wisdom and self-control to do so!
 |
| A picture of Charles to make you smile. |
Finding My Voice
Dear Mary,
Whenever I try to sit down and write a post for this blog, I feel like I don't know who I am, what I think, or how to express myself. But that's not really true. The truth is, I don't know who my audience is, what they might think of me, or how to express my message in a way they can appreciate. So I started thinking about the Dear Sister Diaries and how much I loved that blog. No, this is not an attempt to get you to write again, just an attempt to capture that which was beautiful about your blog and apply it to my own. Of course, the most beautiful thing about your blog was you, my dear friend. But, all I have to share is me. And life is not so terribly exciting, but it's all mine and that's something.
So, the solution: "Dear Mary"
Not so original and charming as "Dear Sister," but it suites my purposes. You are my audience. Mostly because you have loved my writing for years and have made me feel a writer when all I had was sappy love stories I couldn't finish and flowery language that didn't always make a point but sure looked beautiful on paper. And because you're a lover of ideas, thoughts, and dreams. And because you've had the courage to be honest and raw in the face of that which scared you most.
Today I was driving down a road I've been down a thousand times, but my mind was wandering to places I'll never go, things I'll never do, experiences I'll never have, people I'll never meet. And it doesn't scare me. But maybe it should. I've never been a thrill-seeker, just a seeker of truth, and something tangible that I don't have to feel ashamed of when I'm trying to defend it with straw-man arguments and cliche stereotypes. Maybe that's enough for a homebody like me. Maybe all that is around me is enough and never knowing what I'm missing is a blessing. Maybe. And yet, my mind wanders on days like today. Seek and ye shall find, right?
Whenever I try to sit down and write a post for this blog, I feel like I don't know who I am, what I think, or how to express myself. But that's not really true. The truth is, I don't know who my audience is, what they might think of me, or how to express my message in a way they can appreciate. So I started thinking about the Dear Sister Diaries and how much I loved that blog. No, this is not an attempt to get you to write again, just an attempt to capture that which was beautiful about your blog and apply it to my own. Of course, the most beautiful thing about your blog was you, my dear friend. But, all I have to share is me. And life is not so terribly exciting, but it's all mine and that's something.
So, the solution: "Dear Mary"
Not so original and charming as "Dear Sister," but it suites my purposes. You are my audience. Mostly because you have loved my writing for years and have made me feel a writer when all I had was sappy love stories I couldn't finish and flowery language that didn't always make a point but sure looked beautiful on paper. And because you're a lover of ideas, thoughts, and dreams. And because you've had the courage to be honest and raw in the face of that which scared you most.
Today I was driving down a road I've been down a thousand times, but my mind was wandering to places I'll never go, things I'll never do, experiences I'll never have, people I'll never meet. And it doesn't scare me. But maybe it should. I've never been a thrill-seeker, just a seeker of truth, and something tangible that I don't have to feel ashamed of when I'm trying to defend it with straw-man arguments and cliche stereotypes. Maybe that's enough for a homebody like me. Maybe all that is around me is enough and never knowing what I'm missing is a blessing. Maybe. And yet, my mind wanders on days like today. Seek and ye shall find, right?
 |
| My dog snuggling my foot...cause it's cold in Indiana! |
Friends
A good friend allows you to have a bad day without changing their opinion of you. A great friend gets to the root of your bad week and helps you work through the real issue. The best friends already know the back-story, see the stumbling blocks, and sit with you through the darkest nights while you're recovering from the worst of it, never asking, "What's in this for me?"
A good friend can come into your life and linger. A great friend can come into your life and make a place for herself. The best friends can come into your life and change who you are. Because with them, you are more yourself than you are when you're alone.
Who would I be without my friends? In my friends, I see a more accurate reflection of me than in any mirror. They echo back my strongest convictions, my deepest beliefs, and anything good that can be found in my thoughts and feelings. They tell my story better than I can, a tapestry of all I admire and aspire to. They are a suit of armor and at the same time, the comforting arms that cradle me when I'm at my weakest. They are the band of crusaders, championing my cause, championing me in the fray of life. And who would I be, if not for them?
Mirror Mirror
It's a constant struggle. A daily dilemma. My desire to be a modest and feminine woman of God, cultivating an inner beauty of sound character VS. a culture that tells me my highest aspiration as a woman should be to look sexy at all times. It's obvious on paper, isn't it? But we are not a society of words, thoughts, and ideas; we are a society of pictures, commercials, and soundbites. In 30 seconds, a girl can't get across the depths of her thoughts or the depth of her soul...but she can flash a little leg. And after all, what's going to get the most attention? So, if getting the most attention is the main focus of an entire culture that politics via punchlines and educates via headlines, how do we, pursuing biblical womanhood, shun the status-quo and fix our eyes on higher and nobler ideas?
The answer: Truth. We are surrounded by lies every way we turn. We can't avoid them! They come in through our computers, our tvs, the radio, magazines, books, conversations, social media, memories from our past, glances from people we encounter. We can't get away from all- the- lies! We're being fed a steady stream of the world's opinion on how we should look and how we should behave and the only way to combat it is to take time for truth every day. If we are to be women of God, then we must be women of the Word. Only by feeding on truth, the daily Bread that has been provided for us, do we stand any chance against the enemy we are facing every second of every day. Remember ladies, we have to stop trying so hard to fit in when we're so beautifully designed to stand out. Light doesn't blend into the darkness! It makes a statement in a sea of contradicting thoughts, even if its incomprehensible to those around us. If we are truly living our lives as a reflection of Christ, it shouldn't matter what reflection we see in the mirror.
It's not easy. But be encouraged that you are not alone. Keep cultivating a submissive heart and godly character because that's what's truly beautiful to God.
The Broken List
I feel like, if I could take my life and hold it at arms length, an intimate distance but a distance still, I would be uncomfortable with what I was looking at. I would be consumed with all the divots of failure, chasms of bad decisions, canyons of perpetual disobedience that left me wandering in valleys of confusion and hopelessness. I would see something broken.
In Sunday School, my students are reading through the book of John. Our method is to read straight through a book or a chapter, dissect it as we go along, and derive truth out of what is in front of us. We are determined to know John better than any other class in our church and with knowing John comes knowing Jesus. I have stressed that as Christians, we should know as much about Jesus as we can learn. After all, if we don't know Jesus, then we're missing Christianity entirely. Jesus, if nothing else, is a brilliant historical figure! He was not quiet or shy, defensive or obnoxious, insecure or proud. He made fantastic statements like, "Destroy this temple and I will raise it in three days." He called out hypocrites, called people "vipers" in public settings when He saw them propagating false teachings. He turned over tables and took a whip to people dishonoring the temple. He even disowned his own family members when they insinuated He was unstable. He talked to people who others passed by and ignored, rejected, despised. Throughout the biographies of Jesus (we call them the Gospels), we see a person who loves the down-trodden, the underdog, the broken.
And that's the best part, really. The reality is that Jesus is so much more than just an historical figure, stuck in the passages of time gone by, teaching us from a comfortable distance. He's actually even closer than the intimate distance of an arms-length away. And He still has that soft-spot for the broken. In fact, He said only the broken need a healer.
So when I'm making my list, that daunting list of all those things I need to improve on, as a follower of Jesus Christ, I have the option, the luxury of turning all of those things over to Him. Then, and only then, will I experience true satisfaction, not in myself, but in Him.
Boots and Beliefs
 |
| Source |
Recently, I had a friend ask me how I did the whole "skirts thing" in the winter. Of course, it was a guy who asked. Girls are well-acquainted with all the fun and fashionable tights, boot socks, leggings, long moleskin skirts, long johns, flannel skirts, corduroy skirts, denim skirts, and of course tall boots that keep a girl cozy warm and fashion forward.
My blogging hero Kristina, of KristinaJ, wrote a fantastic post about "standing on a platform of modesty while still trying to look attractive and approachable." (You can read it here.) It's something I've struggled with, I'll be honest. In the past, my tendency has been to throw on whatever's easiest and not worry about how other people perceived me. But the truth is, I was lying to myself. I did worry about how other people perceived me. I hated feeling unkempt and uncaring. And it painted a picture of my beliefs as disheveled at best, and particularly unremarkable. Part of my pursuit of biblical womanhood was determining that if I was going to stand out because of the way I dressed, it shouldn't be because I looked like I got dressed in the dark. If people were going to ask me about my wardrobe decisions and the whole "skirts thing", I wanted to be able to answer the questions with confidence, not embarrassment.
Of course i haven't mastered being a fashionista, or even being able to make outfits out of neutral colors, but I am more intentional than I've ever been. And with a great pair of boots, I really can't go wrong.
Don't Bite Your Friends
I really like my life.
That’s not something I could always say.
In fact, exactly one year ago, I would have said the exact opposite. But, what a difference a year has made! Though I’m not always at ease in my mind or
with the world around me, I have come to a place where I feel solid about how I
believe and what I choose to put my faith in.
And yet…there are still so many
times when I feel like a child, just learning the things I should have already
mastered.
There’s a show my little niece watches that has a song on it
called: Don’t Bite Your Friends. And from what I’ve heard of it, those are
most of the lyrics. “Don’t bite your
friends! Don’t bite your friends!” That’s good advice for a toddler. And, as it turns out, good advice for adults
too. But maybe it should go more like,
“Don’t backbite your friends!” Yeah….
It’s in these times, I am so thankful for God’s grace. Where would I be without it? When it came time to confess, I felt like a
scared child. Appropriately. After all, I had acted like a child. But God gave me the opportunity to make it
right again, with Him, and with the other person. And all I received in return for my confession…was
love. Love, love, and more love. Love from a friend who laughed and forgave,
love from my Heavenly Father who was kind enough to bring conviction and then
kind enough to grant me relief when I had done what needed done.And all I can think is… “God, will You make me as gracious as You are?” I pray that I’m the friend who laughs, loves, and forgives in the face of disloyalty. “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.” What a wonderful feeling, to be forgiven! It’s the very thing that allows me to truly love this life God has given me. And though I will still, like a child, need to learn and relearn many things on this Christian walk, I know that I am being led by a gracious, kind, and forgiving God. What’s not to love?
Discipline
I don't love working out. In fact, I like to find excuses to avoid it most days. It disrupts my schedule and messes up my hair and make-up. And when its over, I usually need a shower so I don't smell like nasty sweat. And yet, I know it's a valuable discipline. Once I've done it, I feel better. I like knowing that I'm getting stronger. I like seeing the results in the way my clothes look. I like knowing that I've made a healthy choice.SiL (Sister-in-Law) and I have been doing a workout program for about a month now. Though I'd like to see faster results (you know, like the ones in the infomercials), I have to rejoice in the little victories. I can kick higher. I can do more push-ups. I haven't dropped 10 sizes in 60 days, but I've made some progress. It's not easy, but I'm not doing it for the easy.
Last weekend I was challenged to start a "spiritual work-out" for 90 days. I knew this challenge was for me b/c lately, I'll admit it, my spiritual muscles are weak. I've neglected Bible reading, put off prayer, and filled my mind and heart with worthless junk. And my soul has definitely gotten flabby.
So, one week into this challenge, and wouldn't ya know, I'm not seeing the results as fast as I want. Not because things aren't happening, they're just not happening right this second. I want to be a prayer warrior, or a Bible-buff. I want to be spiritually fit now. But, just like my physical workout, it's not an overnight success. Getting up early is a discipline I've neglected for too long. And quieting my heart before God doesn't come as naturally as you'd think. In order to be spiritually healthy, I have to invest the time it takes to make real changes. It's not easy...but I'm not doing it for the easy.
Anyone else out there trying to live a more disciplined life? What have been your most difficult days? What have been your victories along the way?
Marthas Anonymous
Luke 10:2 Therefore said he unto them, The harvest
truly is great, but the labourers are few: pray ye therefore the Lord of the
harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest.
I’ll admit it, I’m a Martha. It’s really nothing to be proud of, and yet,
I tend to wear it like a badge of honor.
If Jesus were to come to my house for dinner, I would absolutely be the
one bustling around trying to get the food on the table, frustrated because
Mary wouldn’t help, and annoyed with Jesus for not appreciating my
efforts.
I think I might be a stress junkie…or
worse, an approval junkie. I tend to get
the most approval when I default to my Martha ways, picking up the slack here,
lending a hand there, making promises that I have to back out on later because
I’ve over-extended myself, and constantly fighting with the guilt that comes
from sitting down. In an effort to
appease that inner nagging, this Single Girl can book a whole week with others-oriented
activities and wake up on Sunday with a do-gooder hangover and a heart full of
resentment. See…being a Martha is
nothing to boast about.
And then I got to thinking about the
verse about the “Lord of the harvest.”
And I’m just certain that God put it on my heart because I started to
look at it in a completely different way.
You see, I always focused on the “harvest
truly is great, but the labourers are few” part. After all, that’s the kind
of verse you use on Bible College students when you want them to feel a sense
of urgency about going into the ministry.
And, indeed, there is an urgency.
So, a Martha like me just runs out into the field at full speed, trying
to harvest all alone. And when someone
draws my attention to another field, what can I do but run to that field, then
back to the first field, and then add a third, fourth, and fifth field? But upon further inspection, I noticed that
the verse doesn’t say: “pray
ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would give you supernatural
determination to work yourself sick.” Of
course not. It says something much more
practical: “pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth
labourers into his harvest.”
Do you think I ever do that? Nope. Why not?
Because I don’t like how I might look
to someone if instead of saying “yes,” to whatever service they want me for, I
instead say, “Let me pray that God will send the right person for that
ministry.” I mean, seriously, how’s an
approval-junkie supposed to get a fix in a situation like that?
Which makes me think…maybe my
crazy/busy life is less about God and more about…me. How’s that for humbling?
So, I guess it’s time to get real
with my events calendar and do some pruning…and some praying…and some sitting
at the feet of Jesus.
Any advice from former-Marthas out
there?True Woman 2012
This year, I had the pleasure of introducing eight new women to the conference. They came with hungry, seeking hearts, and before it was all over, most of them were waving their white hankies in true surrender to God. It was an honor and a pleasure to be among them. Around the table on Saturday, each woman told what had especially touched her own heart over the weekend. It was so beautiful to see such an eager response to Jesus Christ and fresh conviction to live for Him.
I need more of that in my life.
Sometimes...no, scratch that, OFTEN I lack the freshness I so need in my Christian walk. I don't stop long enough to taste and see that the Lord is good and I find myself floundering on a path I've set for myself, never consulting God as I take each difficult step.
And so, having come through that Furnace of Affliction, still seeking God on the other side, I have been trying to determine what true submission in the Christian life looks like. And not just the Christian life, the Christian life of a single girl.
It's definitely the beginning of a journey...or perhaps the middle of a journey that I'm finally opening my eyes to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)