Frantic Panic Attacks

Exams are over.

Papers are all turned in.

The weather is great.

Summer is here.

I'm currently writing from Montreat, North Carolina. I can look out the window and see gorgeous trees and hills. Oh, the hills. How I had grown accustomed to the mid-western flatness... and how refreshing seeing hills and mountains has been.

I flew into Asheville yesterday to visit my brother for a couple of days. I only get to see him once or twice a year, so this will be the first time since January and probably the last until next January. I always love hanging out with him. He brings me so much joy; his friendship is unique and I'm constantly thankful that we have more than a friendship... God made us siblings.

We went kayaking this afternoon and as I walked down the road, carrying my kayak, I smiled and told him, "Ahh... now it feels like summer." Walking down the tree-covered road in flip flops with a kayak balancing off my shoulder, on our way to a lake... wonderful. I was determined to learn how to roll, but quite honestly, something about being attached to a boat underwater terrifies me. I panic quickly and begin to frantically flail my arms. No rolls can come about from this franticness.

We did a couple of T-rescues and then he ordered me to flip over and try a roll. My stomach tightened and I struggled to breathe well. I began stalling and I heard my voice switch into a whine quite quickly. Finally, I did it, and sure enough, I was frantically trying to get out of the boat, but was able to wait for his boat to help me out without wet-exiting. The water was freezing and I made a mental note of that, knowing I could use that as an excuse to stop soon.

He was an excellent teacher, but I was quite an awful student. After a major panic attack when I couldn't find his boat and then couldn't properly perform a T-rescue I decided to rest and later got back in the water to try a couple more times.

I still can't do a roll...

But maybe some day I will be able to :)

I'll be here 'till Tuesday and then I'm off to Colombia on Thursday...

Let the summer begin!

What Original Dimensions?

Everyone said that freshman year of college is extremely transformative. People say it shakes you to the core and redefines you in different ways. Statistics show that people change the most their first year of university than in any other year of life.

How it would affect me was definitely a mystery to me. I felt pretty solid in who I was and wasn't sure how this first year would change me. Part of me was stubborn, claiming that I wouldn't be "different", but the other more realistic side acknowledging that I am not immune to the effects of this transitionary year.

I'm not. I'm not immune.

Though I grew up in a developed city and have spent much time in North America before, I still experienced a certain degree of culture shock upon arrival in August. To say that it was no big deal is an understatement; to say that I'm fully adjusted, a lie. But to put that experience into words feels overwhelming, nearly impossible.

A year ago I was a high school senior, casually thinking about my possible future. Would I go to college? Possibly. I remember looking up organization after organization that promised an incredible gap year. I think I began applying to several. And then, in the end after applications and rejections and acceptances, I had narrowed down my choices to two universities: Wheaton College and the University of Illinois. I tend to be a quite decisive person, but for some reason, I mulled over this decision for weeks. Finally, the week of my decision, after much praying and processing and talking to others, I clicked "accept" on the U of I page. And that was that...

The end of high school feels like a really long time ago. And though I feel the same, I know that I'm not the same person who received her diploma in June of last year. In the words of Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., "A mind that has been stretched by new experiences can never return to its original dimensions." Is that what has happened to me? Have I been stretched in ways I could have never imagined and now struggle to find my old dimensions? What is it that makes me shrink from change, though I understand that nothing can come into being without it?

And though change scares me, I recoil from a stagnant life. I don't want to be the same 12 months from now. I want to look back and see the ground I've covered with Christ. I want to pin point moments of growth. I want to be more like Jesus then than I am right now. I wantthis change.

But change can be painful.

Change is usually painful.

These last 12 months have carried me through a variety of circumstances: farewells, summer fun, college transitions, going back home, college routines and finally, summer... again. It's as if I've come full circle, but... it doesn't feel like the same circle anymore.

I've been challenged to think through my faith and cling to it when others around me don't hold these same views. I've been encouraged to allow God to change my idea of ministry. I've learned to love a country that isn't home. I've struggled to transition and belong, never having felt so foreign before. And I've been sifted and tried, prompted to let God flow into every aspect of my life.

And that... that has been a twelve month process, bound to continue throughout my lifetime...

What is at the bottom of your joy?

Passion 2011: Fourth and Final Session

He began by saying, "I hope that you could come to enjoy being made much of by God... that God would be glorified as your supreme treasure."

Quite honestly, I don't think about being made much of by God very often. It was an odd statement to make and it puzzled me. However, before that thought had settled John Piper was on to the next point... He asked, "What's at the bottom of your joy?" Also an interesting thought...

Because, you see, every source of joy has a bottom... another source... except for one. And until you answer that question, you don't know who you really are. You're either a person who most deeply enjoys God-exaltation or self-exaltation.

I shifted in my seat and furiously scribbled sermon notes in my notebook. The question was daunting: What's the reason behind the things that make me happy? If you keep stripping the layers, what is the source of all my joy?

God loves me because he puts himself at the bottom of my joy. If he didn't require me to allow him to be the source, then I would never experience real joy. His being at the bottom results in my utmost satisfaction.

But this concept is hard to wrap my mind and heart around... Christianity isn't about turning to Christ to fulfill my unregenerate desires. I don't accept Christ and now say, "I'm going to stop depending on self to have a 'happy' life and I'll turn to Christ." I don't turn to Jesus and say, "I'll stop trusting doctors for health and start trusting you." You see, these desires are universal. You don't have to be a believer to desire happiness and health and comfort. But the regenerate soul delights in regenerate desires. I have to sever the roots of self... and replant my entire life in a new foundation... develop new roots.

This "new birth" that we talk about so casually is actually a murder scene. The Holy Spirit comes into my life and kills the old bottom... my old source of joy: self. And only then can I truly say that if you force me down to the bottom, then you would see that I'm not like the rest of the world... my desires have been regenerated-- my bottom is different.

I can pray to the Giver of all good things, "Make enjoying you more powerful than enjoying stuff," and I can see that prayer realized in my life... when Christ is at the bottom.

I can feel the tension in knowing that God tells us that he loves us for his own sake, time and time again. I can feel that tension and know that my new self rejoices knowing that God's love for me glorifies him. God sends the savior and he gets the glory. What a wonderful transaction. I receive salvation so that I can devote the rest of my life and my eternity to making much of him. What a glorious destiny.

Piper proceeded to list of seven (out of many) ways that God makes much of us. I'll briefly mention them.

God makes much of us by...

1. Being pleased with us and commending our lives even though we disappoint him every single day of our lives.
2. Making us fellow heirs with his son who owns everything (Romans 4:13, 1 Corinthians 3:21). You don't need it-- whatever IT is for you-- here on this Earth, because its already yours when you when you drop dead in two seconds.
3. Having us sit at a table when he returns and serves us as if we were masters and he is slave. Jesus wasn't just a servant for 33 years.
4. Appointing us to make judgement on angels (1 Cor 6:3).
5. Ascribing value to us, rejoicing over us as a treasured possession (Zephaniah 3:17).
6. Giving us a glorious body like Christ's resurrected body.
7. Granting us the right to sit with Christ on his throne (Revelation 3:21).

God's love always draws attention to his supreme value... his love is so great that he doesn't make you-- or me-- the end of this love.

A heart that has been made for God will never be satisfied by self.