gluing my eyes to jesus

So I am not usually "that" Jesus-freak girl that tells everyone when God speaks to her.

But God spoke to me the other day. You see, God has this funny way of revealing himself to me in the most ironic and unique of ways... but that is another story for another day.

I have only heard God speak to me audibly once. And by audibly, I mean, as loud as possible in my heart. That was several years ago. Sometimes I hear faint whispers and echos within me, but this was a different experience.

This week, I was sitting in chapel, praying, journaling, reading my Bible, doing my own studying (You know, the usual when the speaker isn't quite as interesting as you would have hoped). And I just got this picture in my head, a vision, if you will.

It just was an illustration of what my role is.

So you know when you are talking to someone, but they look past you... beyond your vision, just staring at something/one in the distance? Well, being a curious human, what is your instinct?

To turn around and see what they are looking at. What could be so interesting and distracting? What in the world could they be staring at? 

This is my goal. I need to have my eyes so fixed on Jesus that everyone around me wonders what is so interesting for me to look at. What could she possibly be watching so intently and joyfully?

Then, naturally, people will start to turn and look at Him, too. Fixing their eyes on the King of Glory.

To Him be the glory alone.

joy

I dont really like the word "happy". Yes, it describes an emotion, but I just think of "happy" as something temporary and fleeting. As something worldly and only semi-permanent. I try and avoid using happy to describe anything.

I do like "joyful". I think that word describes something deeper than happiness. I don't desire to be temporarily happy.... But I do want to always have joy. You see, joy transcends circumstance. If someone is joyful, they find joy no matter what. Whereas happiness is conditional and, well, fleeting.

I am not happy with my life. I am joyful. I am content beyond belief. I have realized how wonderful of a family I have. How lucky am I do have 4 sisters who I actually want to be friends with?! As we get closer and get along better, I couldn't imagine any different of a family. I love them. :)

How lucky am I to have such remarkable friendships!? I have a large group of people I consider my best friends. They live all over the country. They are the people I can pick right up where we left off... Those who I never worry about losing because they really will be my friends forever.

And I am so blessed to have a man in my life who reveals the character of Jesus to me daily. He has helped me redefine love and relationship. It is so beautiful. I sit in thankful awe daily because of him.

And, best of all, I have a God who leads me with lovingkindness day in and out. He is my rock and my shield. What is more joyous than that?!?

So no. I am not happy.

I am overflowing with joy.

Peniel

So while Jesus was in the process of smashing my heart into bits and pieces only to rebuild it again, I did an exegetical paper on Genesis 32-- Jacob wrestling with God. I wrote a whole blog post about it and how it related to my life as I did my own wrestling with God. (You can read it here).

After you re-read that post. Bookmark that in your brain.

Some of you may know, I am going to Zimbabwe for the month of May and South Africa for June and July.

There is something ironic about the place we are staying in Zimbabwe. It is called "Peniel." If you have ever read Genesis 32 (please take the 5 minutes to do so now.....) you know that after Jacob wrestles with God, he renames that place "Face of God"-- "Peniel."

I don't know why this seems so significant, but I wrestled with God, (and lost... miserably), wrote about it, was completely utterly broken by him the very next day (read that blog post again here), and now the place where I will be working is titled Peniel.... There is something significant there. God is reminding me of my wrestling. That is isn't over.

It is just beginning.

jessica taylor... aka wordy mcworderson

I have a boyfriend who doesn't necessarily like words. This is a problem for me considering I am definitely a word-aholic. Sometimes he has to just "shhh" me because I feel the need to describe every little thing. I feel like I have to ascribe a word to every feeling, emotion, moment, etc... EVERYTHING can be described, and should be as far as I am concerned.

but what if, sometimes, words don't really do something justice? whether it be a moment or an emotion, can words ever really be enough?

I am struggling with this currently with three words in particular. I mean, I think you can guess what three I am talking about.

"1-4-3 I la-la-la-love you" (Yes, please sing that in your head, dear readers).

Now, please stop.

Take a second to take a deep breath. Rid yourself of any immediate judgment you may have toward me. I can hear you saying this in your head, "Jessica, you have dated for two months, really?!?"

That is neither here nor there and is not the point or purpose of this blog post.

What I want to discuss is what those words really mean.

For me, in most situations, I find words to describe a moment. However, sometimes, I find moments to describe words. I think that is where I go a little overboard. Instead of experiencing the perfect movie-like scene, I find something that could vaguely resemble it and then jazz it up with some winsome, romantic, endearing story. While some would say that is lying, I call it good storytelling. ;) But really. I manipulate. I always have, and probably always will struggle with it. I manipulate situations with words. I could argue myself out of anything and I could make someone fall in love with me with words.

(which is ironic because David actually doesn't like my ultra-wordy-ness, therefore my scheme to win him over with my eloquent speech is null and void. oh Jesus and your sense of humor).

Anyways, I think that is what I have done with "l***." I have manipulated it to fit all situations.

In high school, I was called the "I-Love-You-Whore." Because, as many of you can guess, I tell everyone and their mom that I love them. And it is true. I love people. All people. I would do anything for anyone. But this excessive verbal expression of love skewed what true "love" really is in my head. Yes, I love everyone, so I should tell them. But really Jess... don't actions speak louder than words? Yes, I have several tattoos describing my affinity toward "love," but what good are they if they don't remind me to ACT on the love I claim to PROFESS?

In past relationships, I used two things to get people to become attached to me. One of them was my words. I would tell guys that I loved them, knowing full-well I didn't, just so they would feel the need to say it back. I could convince them that maybe this is what love really is... maybe this is what it is supposed to feel like. Every man wants to be needed. Just like every woman does. What better way to prove that you are needed than to have your significant other verbally confess their love for you?!

(annoying Taboo buzzer noise) WRONG.

There are better ways. Love is NOT manipulating. Love is not a word. Love is an indescribable emotion. Something that will never be correctly described by words. Yet, so much of what I have done and probably will still do is sell "love" short.

It makes me physically ill that I have damaged something as stunning and beautiful as "love." Especially for my past significant others... they didn't deserve my manipulation. They didn't deserve what I said was love. I can just hope that they can truly experience the wordlessness that is love. that is agape. I wish that someone would have told me how special those words are. How that those words are the best we have to describe something as beautiful and unconditional of an emotion, so don't screw them up. Don't stain them with cheap versions of love.

If someone would have told me that, maybe I wouldn't be having this gross feeling inside. That for so long I have settled for cheap love and shown conditional love. That I wouldn't be fearful that I will never be able to describe or express the true, agape-love that I feel. That I have sold "love" short.

New Years Resolutions: 2011 Style

So I kind of sucked at the whole New Year's Resolution thing for 2010. 

For those of you who don't creep enough to remember, let me remind you of what they were. 

a) Not shaving for an entire year. (I can hear a sound of relief that this wasn't accomplished)... However, I did last until the end of March. Pretttyyyy impressive. :)

b) No candy. Pahhh! (Yes, that was an Adam-esque laugh, Rachel). If you know me, you knowwww I have a major sweet tooth. Not for cookies or cake, but for Orange Sour Patch Kids and Dove Dark Chocolate. Oh. My. Flipping. Goodness. I think this lasted not even a week.

c) No fast food. I mean, I don't actually eat fast food by choice, ever. But I definitely broke this one. Probably pretty early on in 2010.

d) I made this super huge long list of books I wanted to read. Yeah. After my reading-crazy-Lent ended I only read like 2 off of the list. Epic fail.

So pretty much, I could have told you from day 23 of 2010, that it was going to be a rough year. I had no idea how rough was rough. My heart was broken, twisted, wrung dry, walled up, smashed, shattered, and....... eventually restored. 2010 was really the year from h-e-double hockey sticks. And that isn't an exaggeration. 

When I look back at where I was a year ago... on January 1, 2010, when I made all of those ridiculous resolutions, my stomach starts turning. If only I had known the upheaval my life was about to have. I wish I could have talked to myself.... given some kind of warning. I wish I could have told myself what decisions to make and I probably would have slapped myself across the face. I wish I could have saved myself from the pain and loss I experienced. 

But alas. Here I am. Still at the beginning of yet another new year. Still completely unaware of what God is going to do. Still taking life one day at a time. Still blissfully ignorant. 

Someone gave me a much needed reminder a few weeks ago:: "You can't control everything, you know that right?"

As my heart wrestles with that thought, I know deep down the answer is yes. Thank God I am not in control. But still a big part of me wants to fight with teeth and nails to have control. To hold onto whatever I can with all of my might. 

But look at where that led me in 2010. Devastatingly broken, alone, and empty.

So for 2011, I am not going to make a physical resolution. But instead I am going to resolve to let go. To submit under his beautiful, light yoke and let him be in control. 

If there is one thing I learned in 2010, it is that God never ceases to surprise you. Some surprises are wrapped perfectly in beautiful paper and bows. Some look like a sh** was taken on them. But either way, God is good. He is still on the throne. He has a plan and purpose... who am I to question him? 

Yes, he punished Israel for their disobedience and whore-ish-ness. He made them wander in the wilderness until the very last (minus Caleb and Joshua) was dead. He made them eat manna and quail until it was coming out their ears. He made them wish they were still oppressed and enslaved in Egypt.

But... he still led them to the Promised Land. To the land flowing with milk and honey. He still provided them with manna and quail. He still delivered them from their enemies and brought them out of Egypt. 

He was present. He was in the cloud of smoke and pillar of fire. He lit their path and directed their ways (even if they didn't respond responsibly). 

That has never resonated with me more deeply than looking at 2010. 

I was stripped of everything. Like an Israelite stuck in the hot, middle eastern desert for 40 years, eating only nasty, crusty bread, and gross bird, I was wandering. I was wallowing in my sorrows, convinced that God was against me. I would have done anything to gone back to my blissfully ignorant self... before reality. before Uganda. before suicide. before break-ups. 

But what I didn't realize at the time was that God was present. He was still in the smoke and fire. Even if I didn't acknowledge him, he was still there. Pointing in the right direction, waiting for me to follow his lead. 

And when I did follow his lead... when I finally took my eyes from the pity of my surroundings and looked for his... when I took that leap of faith.... I jumped into his arms. Not only did he heal me, but he restored me. He brought me up out of my sorrows and self-pity. He redeemed me and made me beautiful again. He led me into green pastures and revealed himself to me. He lifted me up and allowed me to see the bigger picture. He showed me why he let me suffer and be broken. He showed me how point a brought me to point b. I was given a glimpse of his plan. He trusted me enough to reveal that to me. And I am so grateful. 

So, I am not going to make the same closed-off, guarded mistakes I made in 2010. Instead, I am going to live in reckless abandon to the one, true God who has it all under control.