Restoration over Breakfast

I had looked forward to this day for weeks: an all day silence and solitude retreat dedicated to listening to Jesus with no interruptions. I was taking a class called “Discipleship and Spiritual Transformation” and this retreat was a requirement for the class. Being an introvert, I tend to cherish one-on-one time with people. I long for those times I can spend quality time with someone hearing the deepest parts of their heart, hopefully involving coffee and the outdoors. It is no different when it comes to my relationship with Christ, so I was looking forward to this time set aside to do some deep spiritual work.

However, my day did not turn out the way I expected. While I was at a beautiful Catholic seminary on a lake just outside of Chicago, it was mid-January... the lake was frozen… and everything covered in snow (I don’t like snow). I spent my day going back and forth from outside to inside the cold, damp buildings to try to thaw out, and I wasn’t really hearing much from Jesus. 

I had come within a few yards of a couple deer, but it seemed like Jesus was keeping His distance.

The group of us loaded into the vans and headed back into the heart of Chicago where we attended Moody Bible Institute. Most people were super chatty, glad for human interaction again. I, however, was mulling in disappointment that God hadn’t met me on this day set aside for time with Him. I entered my apartment and was bombarded by my roommates and friends before I had acclimated back into speaking mode. For various reasons the group dispersed and I found myself alone in my apartment.

Thankful for the quiet time, I opened my Bible again. I started reading John 21 in which Jesus appears to His disciples after His resurrection. He doesn’t appear to them in the midst of a set time of intercession. He was just sitting on the beach making breakfast when they returned after a night of fishing. Over breakfast He restores His broken relationship with Peter and instructs him to care for His sheep. I was reminded that I can have a meaningful time with Jesus in the ordinary, everyday moments. Jesus meets us when we need it most, not necessarily when we expect (like in my apartment on the couch instead of a Catholic seminary). He heals and restores when we least expect.

Like Peter, I can find restoration over breakfast.

Life, Love, and Loss

I tend to romanticize life; seeing it played out like a movie, complete with soundtrack. It's part of my personality I think. It helps me process and reflect; to know myself better and know God deeper.

The past few months have been a lot of this - reflecting and trying to understand. For a long time my thoughts would only go back to the hard things and all the emotions would come flooding back, sometimes stronger than before. 

This week I sat and talked with a dear friend, both of us trying to make sense of  the love and loss we've experienced. Will it ever make sense? We so often look at the pain in life and wonder what God is doing. But we live in this fallen, broken world, what else do we expect? We should look at the joys in life and rejoice in the glimpse of heaven that God has graced us with. 

This past Easter I was reading the account of the women visiting the tomb in John 20. Mary Magdalene is crying when she realizes Jesus' body is gone. He comes to her and asks why she is crying, but she is so blinded by her grief she doesn't recognize Him through her tears. She thinks He is the gardener and frantically tries to get answers and make sense of the confusion. Then Jesus says her name, "Mary." In a word, all of her pain melts away and joy, relief and comfort wash over her as she recognizes her teacher, her Savior. It doesn't need to make sense, all that matters is that He is here!

I'm coming to realize that joy and pain often come together. Life is a series of all sorts of experiences of love and loss, each of them with their own lesson. And God's glory is revealed through both. My body reminds me of this reality daily with residual pain of muscles, ligaments and nerves that will never be the same after two surgeries. But God is in the business of redeeming the brokenness, if we will let Him. 

I don't want to hide my pain and brokenness. But I hope that when people look at my life and hear my story they will walk away encouraged. I want them to be able to see God redeeming the broken parts and see His glory shining like the dawn. 

Looking Back, Moving Forward

As I look back on 2015 I'm amazed at how much happened, and even more amazed at how hard the year was. I think what made it so hard was that it was full of so many wonderful memories that have been tainted with pain of some kind. I cannot remember the good things without also remembering the hard things.

The year started off with so much hope as I followed the Lord on a path of learning to love. However, as the months went on I was finding myself full of anxiety and fear. I again needed to surrender my expectations for the outcome and trust that where God was leading is good. In turn, I experienced an immense amount of pain and heartache overshadowing many of the joys happening around me. Chicago had forever imprinted itself in my heart with both beautiful and hard memories. But I resolved to move home in hopes of finding something new, and the year ended looking up as I tried to sort through the journey I had just been on. All of my experiences have taught me something as I constantly found myself being carried in the grace of God. I am incredibly grateful for each of these memories, the good and the hard because they have been the pruning in my life and have produced more Christ-like fruit in me. 

As I begin 2016, John 15:11 is on my heart as my hope for what this year will be characterized by: "These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full." I want to experience the fullness of joy as I abide in Christ's love this year. I look forward with expectancy for what He has for me.