Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Grape Discernment

"Life is about being adaptable; all things change, but it's about remaining true to yourself." - Psych seas. 8


Sometimes we convince ourselves we don't have a plan when in reality, we've been creating a master plan for our lives without letting the pieces fall into place the way the Master has planned for us.

Someone once told me it's like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole; cliche, but undeniably true.  As driven individuals we sometimes refuse to give up on something that masks itself as perfection . . . the one and only answer to ultimate satisfaction and happiness.

We can continue to convince ourselves over and over and over again that something is right for us or meant for us, but know, deep at the heart of whatever the situation is, that it's not our calling, at least not at this time in our life.  Sometimes we want these things so badly that we're willing to do whatever it takes to get them, selfishly pushing aside all of the signs that are pointing us in a different direction on our path.  The other day I was running at Pearson Park, reminiscing about my younger days and journaling some of those memories.

The sun was streaming through the forest I'd grown up in where I'd walk next to my grandparents on hot afternoons.  The trees never really changed height because as I grew up, so did they.  Although the paths in the forest felt more magical when I was little. . .more intriguing and more mysterious, they weaved down the same line of trees.  The park holds in those memories like a snow globe, easily rewatched when the leaves are rustled by a similar breeze from 13 years ago.  I remember the bag of freshly washed grapes staining the brown picnic table, my grandma's soft hands plucking a few and depositing them in my palm eagerly yearning for the crunch of the purple fruit.  She would tell me stories about her childhood even when my eyes kept peaking at the R.L. Stine novel in my lap.  Dad's band would play those boring songs not anywhere near as cool as Britney Spears or the Backstreet Boys, but, they'd eventually become some of my favorites over the years. 


And when we would get back on the trail and take those long walks with Grandpa, the rocky path seemed to go on forever and ever, and I could never figure out which end of the trail we started on.  They'd walk hand-in-hand and I'd lag in the back, staring in awe at the hand-carved initials of young lovers adorning the giant birches' trunks.  "One day it'll be me," I used to tell myself, wrapped up in the fairytale day dreams of a typical 9-year-old girl.

Now the carvings have grown in number, the couples older and probably with kids of their own, hearing stories about their parents' great love and that time they snuck away at the family picnic to graffiti the wildlife.  As my tennis shoes padded past one of the trees, an inescapable giggle flew from my lips, amidst exercise-induced breaths.  The initials haunt a teenage memory that never was.  I created my own path through the forest, writing my initials on rocks and the inside of book covers.

And even though it's the same place, it's always going to be different.  And even though it's the same path, running in a different direction delivers a new perspective.

After that day in the park I couldn't stop thinking about how weird it was when I ran the trail backwards instead of the way I'd always gone before. Although it was the same as it has always been, it was different and I had only failed to notice what was right in front of me.  It made me think how sometimes, in order to find our actual direction, to discern our passions, our driving force and the joy behind our smile, we need to change our approach.  It's the same process, but taken from a different angle.  When we're willing to go a different way than usual on the same course, that's when we find what's been hiding from us.  It's like being in a room with a two-way mirror.  If you're on the inside, you don't realize there's something on the outside looking in.  Unless you step outside of the room, and change your point of view when looking at that same mirror, you don't realize what's always been there staring right back into your own eyes.

It's incredibly easy to miss the signs that are right in front of us when we think there is only one way to achieve or answer a dream, a hope, a goal or a prayer.  Blindsided, we keep running in circles; we're unaware of the fork to the left that's been waiting for us to notice it, hidden behind the cobwebs that have formed from passing it by too many times.

Don't ever stop listening to that voice nudging you to change your direction or your approach.  God's hand is always at work, His voice calling us from every angle.  We have to be willing to take off the blindfold, step out of the mirrored room, brush away the cobwebs and listen - intently and honestly. Just because the doors seem to be closing on a dream or goal, doesn't mean that God hasn't mapped out another way for you to achieve it.  Change offers us a chance to stay true to ourselves and discern our heart's ultimate desires. Don't give up; keep searching.  You will find it and you will be found.

Never stop running the race set out before you.
xo
Hill

Monday, March 10, 2014

Uncomfortable comfortability

A few days ago I started to feel a little homesick for my tiny town of New Wilmington.  I was missing enchiladas and salsa from El Canelo, my favorite Jazzman's worker who always knew I wanted an extra shot of espresso, seeing Amish buggies on my walk to class, my home church service, being able to drive home for a bubble bath if I had a rough day, and generally meeting up with lifelong friends and family for dinner or study dates.


Even though it was a fleeting moment, maybe lasting an hour or so, I still got that feeling in my stomach where it was as if I'd just done an upside down loop on a roller coaster.  I was aching for comfort, the normality and usual feeling of home life.  Sometimes I think we get so caught up in comfortability that we don't let ourselves live life fully; we get too scared to take that one step off the beaten path because we don't know what's on the other side of the woods (or in my case, the ocean).

I struggle with living in the uncomfortable moments of life.  I found out on my first trip to Scotland that I have a hard time functioning in those times that are foreign or don't make sense.  I would always get frustrated when friends and family from home would claim I had so much "bravery" for leaving little old New Wilmington and completely immersing myself in a new culture.  Maybe I had the courage to make the jump, but I wasn't initially embracing the bravery everyone claimed I had once I reached the British Isles. . .until I started to realize how much I was growing from being an American, recognizing that I didn't know everything about the country I was staying in.

I'm still constantly challenged to live in the present, open myself to unknown adventures and not fret about the consequences of every single decision. Over the past year, my identity as a woman of God has helped me realize the number one thing I needed to work on (and still need to work on every day) is living in uncomfortableness.

Joshua 1:9 says "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

As a Christian, I recognize that I'm not called to be content with my life, even once I've found my niche, found my home or discovered my calling.  Every day I should be working toward fulfilling His purpose, whether it's simply making someone smile, doing well on an essay exam, or volunteering on a Habitat for Humanity summer trip.  A life of comfortability isn't enough.  Yes, I am happy and thankful every single day for all of the blessings I receive, but to solely rest in those gifts isn't enough.  I need to constantly work toward bettering myself-and that means leaving my flat, getting out into the world, and discovering how else God can work in my life.  Because watching Netflix isn't going to make me a better person (hence the cancellation of my beloved account during Lent and for the rest of the semester).

Being uncomfortable is not always fun, but it's in those moments of awkwardness and confusion that we find further comfort in previously foreign situations and understanding in previously unknown concepts.  We grow, we learn and we expand our knowledge of what else the world has to offer and how else we can be a blessing for others.

Jeremiah 33:3 "Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known."

In the spring of 2012 I made the decision to take one of those leaps of faith without realizing it would lead to immense growth in my independence, individuality and spirituality.  I left my comfortable home to face discomfort in a parallel universe known as the United Kingdom.  Never did I think I would feel reverse homesickness when I returned to New Wilmington, missing ceilidhs, a real cup of tea, cobblestone streets, Tesco runs and friends that became extremely dear to my heart.  I was missing a new comfortability that I never would have known if I hadn't decided to feel awkward and foreign for 4 months. And I am so thankful for that fear!

Embrace discomfort, enjoy awkwardness and learn to love new people and places.  Don't rest in the stagnant pond which sits in your backyard, float down the rocky river which travels along the unknown. 

xx
Hill