LOVE IS LAYING DOWN

There are no standing lovers. None. 

Love is in the laying down of self, of agendas, 

thoughts, ambitions and everything in between for another 

~ Ann Voskamp ~ 

(paraphrased)

Loving, laying down is a voluntary act. So you want to love as Christ loved the church? It's an act. It's a risk. It will take all of you. But it'll be worth it.

John 10:11

"I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd risks and lays down His [own] life for the sheep."

John 10:18 part 1

"No one takes it away from Me. On the contrary, I lay it down voluntarily. [I put it from Myself.]"

We've romanticized the very essence of loving someone as Christ loved the church. I hear it mentioned when men tell their girlfriend's of their commitment to them and in people's vows. And lately, I can't help but laugh because many don't realize it is a vow. And God honours those. He doesn't forget those. And for words spoken to "sound deeply committed" without understanding of the true essence of it, God begins to burrow hearts for depth and understanding. And my, my! You bleed those words into being. You asked for it. No one forced your hand into speaking it.

Love is stripping down to your bare minimums, fastening a servant's towel around your waist and washing feet (John 13:4-5) Isn't it funny that loving is humbling - the very doing of it. Because many times we are quick to speak but it's the doing or lack of that exposes us. And Peter, speaking rashly on that day (John 13:37), paid a hefty price for his truthful promise to Christ later by dying a painful death. Risky. Willingly. Voluntarily. As Christ laid down His life.

Leave alone men to their wives (but still, Jesus so desires it), would you lay down your life for brethren at church? What of brethren that you've never met? I'm not trying to be dramatic. This is not Sparta. But would you gladly inconvenience yourself for the ease, comfort and wellbeing of another? Tough. Makes blood and guts look easy. But this is how they shall know that we are His - when we love one another and serve one another (John 13:14-15, 1 John 3:16) It is our obligation to each other as brethren.

But boy, does the church love to lead! Wooh! We looooooove the front-lines. We love the choir, but we especially love the men of the collar. We love the thought of one day getting to sit at the front centre of the church but we forget that the position we are wishing for is a greater place to carry others, to lift and wash with prayers, to shepherd (John 13:3-4) It's responsibility and there's a price you have to pay for it. It's not solely about holding the mic and speaking wisdom and truth and prophecy. That's just him/her sharing their downloads from their back-room with God. The real work is in the prayer closet. It's all sweat, long days and late nights yielding and covering a people that God has called to be equipped for greater works than these (John 14:12)

Greater works... There's some work involved. And it's outside of your comfort zone. It calls for laying down to serve. For kneeling. For stripping. And there are no superstars in the kingdom of God. None. Only sons with a serving heart.

It's true: It will take all of you. But my God! It's worth it.

Everything is beautiful here

There are times you know you should burst out crying. Times when you're fighting tears as they stain the white of your eye because it's not a good time, they're people here, it's not dark yet. There's always a reason to cover, but when tears don't go out they dive in deep. And you can feel your heart getting heavy, insides too full tinged with pain it wants to burst right out the seams. So you fight it. You cover it. But your eyes betray you. And you watch your heart start to sink. And you walk away knowing very well it is a matter to be cried out and laid bare before God, but you don't want anyone asking questions. Not before you spill everything before Him. You've done it too many times before. And your eyes are still swollen red from yesterday. But you do it anyway hoping you'll get cried out someday. Someday... Does it ever come?

That was this morning for me. David and I were helping my mum edit, form and shape her online career coaching questions and she was using us to test it out and know what needed stitching and hammering. We've done it before. The last time I told her no but she begged me to, so I did. And I skated around my answers because it's a sore topic, and she should know better. This time, I cracked wide open and I went all samurai and swords on defense. Obviously, that didn't go well. And as I watched the conversation unfold before me, I knew the moment had burned itself in a wounded part of me that's still healing.

There's no easy way to say this: I'm not ok, but i'm fine. I've touched on most of it here so it wouldn't be that hard to put the pieces together. And it's partly the reason why I haven't blogged for a while. The greater part actually. I have days where I think, "This is it! I climbed right out of whatever this place is coz i've figured it out," only to find that there's still another layer peeling off me. And i've told Him how it drains me. How i'm afraid of spiraling. Everyday.

I'm in a better head space (and heart space) now, but July was a month of throwing hands up and flat out giving up. I was even questioning the point of life itself. I wasn't "changing the world" or doing anything meaningful so why was I still alive? I was not close to suicidal. Far from that. But I lost my connection to the world and life itself though I still lived. Everyday felt like all I was doing was breathing in air and breathing out. I'm trying to put it into words guys. I haven't even scratched the surface of my heart open enough yet so please, don't make assumptions. July had me poured out with still so much to empty. So I told God since I don't know what to do, i'll not do anything until I can't not do. I don't know if that makes sense.

The truth is, I don't know what to do with my life. I don't. There's no clarity or anything really. Some funk, huh? And my God I have tried. I've sent out CVs to magazine houses, newspapers, or anything that seemed within my scope of doing, but nothing. In all honesty, I wasn't that keen on much going through because I questioned my ability to deliver on the job (if I get it) because a bigger part of me was still wrecked and wounded. As for a solo thing, I have no clue what it would be and no juice anyway to do it. Sure, i can sing, write, and I have brilliant ideas but there's no wind under their wings for them to take flight.

So i've just been in a state of existence. It was worse in the first 3 weeks of July, but God didn't let me fall off the ledge. Of course I could listen to the endless questions and judgements hanging in the air, and I know at some point, they won't pierce me as deep as they do now.

I could say a lot more, really, but i've said enough. A godsend friend of mine, Mary, sent me a link to a youtube video of Steffani Frizell Gretzinger preaching, and it was such healing. It stilled me even though I cried calm tears and laughed out loud at some of her jokes. There's one thing she said I will carry with the me all the days of my life - I don't have to be ok or have it all figured out. I just have to be close (to God).

I just have to abide. To have myself gelled in Him. Just to be close. And in this place i'm in, I know and cherish Him as a hiding place. As a lover. A Father. A friend. A confidant. There's no greater substitute for what He is to me.

And this I know now more than ever: Everything is beautiful here.