on stepping back and submitting to rest

Two weeks ago I thought I finished a manuscript for a book that I'd actually initially avoided working on for a long time and eventually dove into heart deep.

The words came easy and I knew I had a message to share, though when I stepped back to examine what was there, I noticed that there are pieces missing.

I still believe that I have a message to share, yet I also believe that it isn't quite time.

In a fit of exhaustion I had sent my messy manuscript to a handful of friends, in spite of the fear that they'd cough and say, This? Seriously? This? 

I knew that I had to get what I had away from me.

          The work needed to cease, so I could rest.
               I needed space, so I could see. 

Fear wanted me to keep the words back and hold them tight. I sensed it wasn't quiet time for there to be a book yet, however, I knew without a doubt that my writing on this was complete.

I needed to get what I had in the hands of a few trusted friends. I just didn't know exactly why.

All along, my writing wasn't about the book. It was about honoring the story that I've lived and my heart knows I need to share. It was about honoring who I am and that as a person who processes with words, this writing of what I did was necessary.

Yet, fear told me I needed to know that my hours upon hours of early morning writing wasn't wasted. That the huge amount of space this smallish project took up in my heart and my mind wasn't foolish or meaningless.

Fear gave me a longing to know that it wasn't wrong for me to be sharing so much of myself, to be so divided like I was, so taxed and consumed by the writing for pieces of me to have been so partitioned off from my groom and our son.

Fear wanted me to forget about faith. It wanted me to get my answers from people instead of from Him, so I shared my words with the few people who were with me on many parts of my journey and waited for a response. I tried to tell myself that whatever they thought didn't matter, but convincing myself to wait patient didn't dismiss the restlessness.

I was fighting rest and the fight has left me dogged and ragged. I've been disappointed that I still have a process to work through to see this project through. I worked hard at getting to this place. I wrote and obeyed and honored the call. Still, I can't make it be time for the end product to be.

This is the place in this book writing where I've done all I can do.

I now need to submit to rest and simply let it be.

               I can still pursue hope, but it needs to be as I rest. 

: : : 

Just this morning I said no, thank you when invited to apply for a new job at a big-time university where I'd likely learn a lot and be positioned to really grow my career. I did this because I can't stand the thought of how exhausting that all would be.

What I know is this moment, right now. Not today as a whole, but right now. And right now I know that I feel exhausted even thinking about pursuing something like that.

Tomorrow is a different day and only God knows what feelings it will bring. In this moment, I feel incredibly achy and heavy. I literally have side effects from a fight I've fought for too long.

Fear has had its way with me far too many times. I could portray myself as the victim, though I'd be lying. I've had a role. I enabled it. Nearly every single choice I've ever made in my life has been led or guided or informed by fear.

I've fought the rest God has wanted of me. And . . . now is the time for me to yield to it.

          Now is the time to accept the pain
               . . . to face it head on and to submit to it, as it is. 

For too long in my life I've lived a white-knuckled existence -- fingers gripped tight around everything. If I couldn't control it, I'd try to cajole it or contain it . . . using whatever word I could think of that ultimately still meant control.

I've rushed in making decisions and found my way first in line, standing tall and pretty and all put together, just so that I'd have the opportunity if I wanted it. I didn't actually give much thought to whether I actually did want it until after everything was all positioned just in case.

Yeah, I know how messed up that sounds. Because, it is. It's also exhausting to have to go back and re-position and make adjustments like that.

My biggest fear is that I'll stay this way and never know how to really live.

A leader takes a step back and lets others go first. She carefully considers before she chooses. And she chooses for her first, quietly and contemplative. She doesn't need to tell everyone her process or procedure or predicament. She doesn't rush to conclusions. She comes to her own contentment through making good choices for her-self first. She isn't guided or pushed around by fear.

I have a message to share -- a community to lead. And I've been sharing a bit of it as God leads, but I know now that I need to contemplate it more. Truth tells me that I won't ever fully or perfectly get it. But still, there's a process I've yet to go through and that God's yet to work through in me.

          My worship right now is in the waiting. 
               In the stepping aside and submitting to the rest. 

On the other side of this there will be something richer and fuller, and that is when the message will be clearer and credible.

The only way I know how to loose the grip fear has had on my life is to step back and let me be. And that means to let the pain be, too.

“When you lean into that pain, and lean into the questions, and stop pretending that they’re not there, and stop pretending that everything’s fine, when it’s not . . . there is the release that’s waiting on the other side of that. It’s a new birth all over again.” (Sarah Bessey)

And so, I'm stepping back. I'm putting the manuscript on the shelf, though I assure you I am not boxing it up. And also? I'm putting the crazy, God-sized dream I have of developing a magazine on the shelf, too.

Hope says these things will be . . . as He leads . . . just not today.

I want a faith-driven life instead of a fear-forced life. So, today I'm choosing rest.

Amen.

Linking with Jennifer and Bonnie. 

surrendering superwoman

every thing is coming at me at once. or, at least it seems that way.

     a potential job that seems so much bigger than me . . .

     a potential adoption journey -- or maybe now it's another child of our own . . .

     a potential book -- or maybe even two . . .

     a vision of a ministry . . .

it's crazy how so much is happening at once. i'm hope-filled.
yet, to be honest, i'm also completely exhausted.

i've been a chaser of control.

life happens and we can't stop it. and even if we could, would we really want to? because, isn't this the stuff life is made of? actual living?

i'm intensely excited about corners i can't see around. almost insanely so.

risk is something i feel is breathing down my neck. and really, it's faith nudging me. prompting me to walk when the water is just underneath my feet -- so close i can feel it next to my skin. to live a life of actively trusting Him.

my toes are wet. i've experienced His glory. and it's confusing and so incredibly overwhelming.

     what do i do with this?, i ask. now what?!

grace brings all things together and makes it known that He is still in the miracle business.

i am reminded that i worship the same God that Moses did. and Abraham. Sarah. And David.

He invites me to bring to Him all the things i hold too closely -- my Isaac's.

so i search my heart . . .

     my son . . . my groom . . . my vision of a perfect marriage . . . my job . . . my very life . . .

          . . . a second child . . . adoption . . . the book . . . attention . . . my desire to be noticed . . .

i've been asked to consider surrendering every thing. -- as in, Every. Thing. 

     as in, put my entire heart on the line and my doubt of how it's all i'm all held together.

i've been asked to surrender all that has come from hard work -- the flat belly and the ripped shoulders and back, and the eight-pack abs -- the epitome of pride.

i'm being asked to surrender my longing for perfect patience and perfect gentleness and not burned dinners -- all the things i expect of myself that are too big and completely unfair.

for a lot of my life i lived under the illusion that i needed to live like a superhero.

eventually i learned that though i am capable of a lot, i am usually not asked to do as much as i think is expected of me. He calls me to simple and that has become the most difficult -- it seems so weak and an inefficient, wasted use of time.

a doctor once spoke these words to me: "today isn't a day to be superwoman." those words seared in me as i squirmed and cringed to avoid the truth that i was in pain, as he scoured my uterus for what remained of a placenta from the little girl i never got to know, though who He knew. God used that moment to allow me the feeling of pain, yet my *self* was in the way to feel it.

my pride said i don't need Him to heal because there's nothing there that needs healing. and of course, the truth was i needed Him more than ever.

when we trust Him anyway . . . 
     even though we don't have it all together 
     and even though everything is happening altogether . . . 
we are living by faith and we are actively living out worship. 

life *whirls and twirls* around us and still, we do it anyway. we live -- honestly. real. -- just the way we were created to be, even with our doubt and fear and confusion and overwhelming sense of not being enough. He tells me again and again: This. Is. Worship.

when we dig deep and search our heart for what bits of self remain and choose to call them out -- own the self-righteousness, the pride, the controlling self that tries to position ourselves as god . . .

     when we cry out in the night with sheer agony that this is just so hard . . .

     when we dare to tell the story of darkness, even though we've yet to see the beauty . . .

He honors our heart . . .

     and therein lies the miracle . . . and we begin to See Him for Real.

     and in the seeing, we learn to release one more finger from our gripped-tight hand . . .

     and we begin to trust a little bit more that we are, truly, enough.

Share your heart . . . add a comment below.

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on letting go [raw and unedited]

view

how trust is a game changer

the pursuing

discomfort

itchy

I find myself saying it over and over again.

How I want to jump out of it. My skin.

The excitement is palpable. Itchy almost. 

I want to get there -- to where my visions lie.

But this process is necessary.

And I'm not so anxious that I dread the Now.

I'm just excited for what my heart knows deep inside.

Every single moment of my life has led up to this one.

The truth of this is incredibly overwhelming.

I tell two people and they both say the same thing, "it's almost scary."

And yeah, it is. But, I think . . .

What if I didn't do what I did all those times?

That's where it's most scary to me.

What if I didn't say Yes when I was invited to do this or that?

I can see how all those willing moments connect to each other. 

Glimpses of God is what I see.

Almost like a little boy crouching behind a fence, scurrying from one corner of someone's lawn to another.

Smiling. Spying. Scheming.

Excited is my God. For the plans He has for me.

Just like a Boy-Man who has a fun game to play and wants everyone to play along, too.

It's not trickery. It's joy-sharing.

This is a metamorphic moment in my life.

For now, I'm crawling low on the ground, scurrying and slinking.

I admit how I reach for everything and anything to feed me, to fill the gaping holes in me.

It's obvious to me how He wants to be my Food. My Fill. My Whole.

He wants me to trust that great things can come of broken, prideful, dangerous me.

I think of David and how he was so far from perfect. And yet, God chose him and used him.

He tells me my story is for purpose and every moment allowed to make way for beauty.

I remember how brilliant colors are most pronounced on dark canvas.

He shows me how Holy is already a part of me.

I think of David and how he declared. Even though he doubted, he declared.

His love for me is so overwhelming. How He keeps on working at me.

I'm headed to more declaring these days. For the hope I am certain of.

And I'm doing more grace-receiving. For me. Just as I am.

Share your heart . . . add a comment below.

_______________________________________________

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uncertain

opportunity

hearing

Kris Camealy is a writer who God has made my friend and who recently launched a book called, Holey, Wholly, Holy. I devoured her words with a hunger to be ever closer to Wholeness. I keep going back to it these days, sipping the truth and steeping in the richness of life that death to self has to offer. I have so much more to say about this book -- it isn't for everyone at once, it's for everyone at different times. Because, truly, there are seasons to life and we are wise to let Him percolate willingness in us to really begin to see the depths of His love; to go there really is transforming and awe-embarking. 

worthwhile

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A lot of announcements were made at the office today.

I was surprised by all of them.

Usually I'm *in the know* -- connected to decision-making. Already primed for news like this.

Recently, however, the person I was reporting to left for another position elsewhere. I was in that person's inner circle and so with him no longer here, I am (mostly) out of the loop. And that's okay. Surprises can be good sometimes.

When the news of so many changes were shared with our team today, I nearly felt myself jumping up and down with anticipation of what might be. I'm like that -- a change-can-be-good, seize-opportunity kind of girl.

A year from now, my life could be very different. I know this to be true every day. But I could see something that could happen much earlier than I anticipated. And it could mean that I stay.

I could be doing exactly what I boldly and confidently declared I would not ever do.
And what I said I never want to do.
Ever.

And now, I'm learning what eating words tastes like.

Because, what we think is good for us isn't always what's best for others.

For awhile I've been thinking about the Bigger and Different that I feel led to. Yet, staying is something I know is right for me right now. It doesn't mean forever. It just means that staying now is necessary for later.

Not too long ago I took a test to discover my strengths.

And I found myself frustrated because what I always knew to be true was affirmed. I felt suffocated in that I wasn't taping into my strengths a lot of the time.

So I set out with a deliberate chasing after doing work that engulfs my strengths. And I feel free to fully embrace Me.

The work itself may not be exactly where I want to be. But it's meaningful. And it's worth doing.

And that matters most.

___________________________________________

  
I get to help my friends hand out WordCandy, 

rolling it out early so that we can make it big. 

And mostly, to make a difference in someone's day 

with a little bold statement that encourages and inspires. 

Try it. 

__________________________________________

You might be interested in this...

The strengths test I took.

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*Real* authenticity | {Day 8}: Keeping it Real

     This space here where I write has been practice for real life.

               It's bended me and mended me.

          I've been challenged and inspired. Encouraged and admittedly, even admired.

               Your comments have humbled me as I have been considered *authentic*. Untied me.

          Unraveled the pretty ribbon that has kept together this sometimes *seemingly perfect* try-hard life.

          Because, Authentic is exactly what I have struggled to live out loud... 

               Join me for more over at the beautiful, Emily Wierenga's place for more. 

: : : 

          Emily wrote an important book that will influence lives in meaningful and profound ways. 

          Her worship is scrawled out in her courage and obedience, and I'm thrilled to point you to it: 

: : : 

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awake

I am Seeing more fully these days.

The ways He moves in me. And through me. And around me.

His presence and how He is so real. Powerful. Just so incredibly Amazing. 

And I've been wrecked.

By grace.

She stands taller. More confident in trusting that her story does, indeed, have purpose. All of it.

And she is more peace-filled.

When I look in her eyes I see her heart.

I want to love her.

All of her. 

And I know, He's done this.

He's moved in such a steady, gentle, yet powerful way that my own strength has come undone. 

     The strength that clung to the belief I was worth less. The strength that made me quiet and cower.

     The strength that ugly ol' pride told me I had so much of.

     The strength women tell other women to reach for. And the mantra I aspired to believe.

As it turns out, I'm not *strong.* 

He is. And in me, His strength is evident.

It's a perspective that gives Him honor. It's inside-out thinking. It's worship lived out. 

I'm awake to this grace.

How my faith has been widened. Expanded actually. And yet, there's truth that it'll stretch even more in my story living.

     Pregnant with Hope.
          Wondering if I can possibly get any bigger.
               And I do.
                    Miraculously, I stretch wider than it ever seemed possible.
                         And I will even more.

He moves in us and invites us to live out the ways He made us.

His art cannot be stuffed in or boxed up. 
     Eventually He unearths *us* within our soul. 

Because God doesn't make beauty for some day. He makes it for Every day.

I don't want to save my telling of His Handiwork for my grand-babies and dinner tables. I want to tell of Him *now.*

The art is in our awakening. 

We are Awake because He made us so.

It's a truth we cannot deny. An obvious one.

     Yet it's one seem to forget as we hustle and bustle through the *whirl and twirl.*

And so, I {pause} and give Him honor here. Where these words find a home. And where the courage to *Be* how He made me is typed out.

I tell of His grace. How I've been changed and I'm being changed.

I write what I See, a heart full of dreams.

I am obedient to the awakening.

_______________________________________________

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stepping aside

Declining opportunity is sometimes essential to living our personal and unique story.

I've had to do that recently. Twice. In the same day.

Opportunities to make a difference that appeared as why-not, therefore must-do, acts of service quickly became sour. They just didn't settle well on my heart even though I wanted them to.

Even though I knew what was best, I still lived with an uncomfortable and unsettled feeling. It took a long time for me to be readied for stepping aside, longer than my pride cares to admit, quite honestly.

I'm learning that not every thing is for every One. 

Your mission does not need to be my mission. This is truth I must remember. Truth that reunites me with Peace.

Pizza is one way I am learning this. Though it's one of my favorite foods, pizza often makes my stomach do flips and leaves me feeling slightly incredibly uncomfortable. I have lived this way for so long that I just count it as a given.

Doesn't everyone get a belly ache from pizza?

I've have been readied to make choices that are more right for me. 

So I have begun to pack my own lunch in anticipation for the possibility that there might be pizza served at an office lunch retreat since it's what is most frequently chosen.

I've decided that dieting and cleansing's aren't right for me, at least not at this stage in my life. These are important choices for me, though perhaps not for you. And that's okay.

Colleagues comment that I am "so disciplined," as they know that I live a life committed to overall health and wellness. Those suggestions make me feel embarrassed because they don't know the whole story.

     They don't know how often I've eaten pizza and felt ill, yet done it anyway--
          how I torture my body so often.
   
     They don't know what I sometimes I eat in the comfort of my home--
          how I overindulge and end up feeling full of regret.

     They don't know the tendencies I have to abuse myself--
          how I can easily become obsessed with food and workout and body.

I struggle to limit what I enjoy but that isn't particularly best for me.

A financial gain was offered to me for time I was giving to serve an organization that I love, by pioneering their presence on a social media network. I hadn't been particularly familiar with the specific network I was charged to explore and so dabbling in it for awhile and learning about it was fun.

Though I found the work enjoyable and understood its importance, I felt a gap in my daily rhythm.

I felt a tug to step aside. But I stayed anyway, for two months. And every day I felt this nagging Knowing.

I prayed for clarity and understanding of why I would need to step aside and when I came up empty with answers, I kept on anyway. Time rubbed my heart like sandpaper. The more I did what didn't feel right for me, the more my days felt mislived.

But, *shouldn't* everyone step up where there's a need?

Obedience is sometimes a hard choosing. It always leads to freedom. 

Where there are opportunities for me to personally connect with individuals one-on-one, to reach into hearts and share stories, my heart swells. I am pregnant with hope for His purposes. It's a strength of mine to develop people through encouragement and to connect people with the passions He gives them to live meaningful lives for Him.

What this looks like is varied and I don't always know the exact definition of what roles support my strengths. As I get into something, He gives me a knowing of what is most right for me.

The challenge He gives me is to be obedient to the knowing.
     Sometimes it means stepping aside.

At the moment pay was offered for my pioneer work, I knew this hobby was just that. It wasn't a passion and it was lacking a substance of relationship-building that my heart craved. The pressure to perform mounted. And suddenly it felt like a job when it hadn't before.

I felt compelled to work harder at something because I was getting paid when really, I was getting paid for the hard work I was already doing. When we're living in our strengths zone, hard work doesn't feel like Work. It just feels right. And this didn't.

I'm a writer. I have a lot of work to do yet to improve this craft, but at the core of who I am is a writer. I also have a passion to encourage people. If I were to get paid for what I feel called to do, it might be different. Though, I fear it might feel awkward and expectation-like. I don't write to meet deadlines and I don't follow the steps on self-marketing to increase an audience. I write because it's a must do for me. A living obedience. Writing is my worship.

The way I've been serving hasn't been allowing me to engage with a community in a more personal way. I've felt divided and almost sliced off from what matters most to my heart.

Was it wrong for me to step up and raise my hand for something without being confident it would stick?

Grace tells me All. Is. For. Purpose. 

It honors Him when we want to serve and we step out in boldness. Taking a risk for Him is never a failure.
 
*Willingness* is worship.

I've been connected with people who I wouldn't have otherwise know and it pains me to give that up because I wonder what I might miss out on. I truly want to remain on the team of the organization I have been involved with. And by saying "no" to this might leave me standing in the corner, alone and with an empty inbox.

Fear of missing out can't be what propels me to keep on. 

I have to step aside and trust that I honor Him most by saying, "It was good to serve you and I appreciated the opportunity, but this specific role isn't the right one for me. I'm going to step aside."

     I need to use the time He gives me wisely.

     I need to live my passions out loud and not hide behind obligation.

     I need to choose courage to trust that I won't miss out.

     I need to Wait upon the Lord for what He leads me to next.

     I need to trust that He will use my gifts for His glory.

It honors Him when we know our time on a project is through and we've brought it as far as our role is meant to take it.

When we step out of the way and obey, we are living out worship.

By way of stepping aside from this, He will accomplish so much more in me for His heart to be revealed more fully.

I'm also learning that though this all sounds good, our obedience is based on his readying of us. Choosing grace for where we are Now is worship.

     ...trusting that He will complete what He has begun in us...

     ...remembering He is developing our faith, and...

     ...we will never *arrive* at perfect obedience this side of Heaven.

He's changing my heart from I want to make a difference, to trusting that He will make the difference He wants to make through me, just the way I am. 

Anyone can do some thing. But there's a job for us each. A specific job designed to match the abilities He gives us each. Our passions. Our gifts. The ways we contribute are unique. Our living is art and it's not the same.

We aren't expected to do it all. We're gently invited to respond to His prompting.

These invitations to live obediently to His unique design for my life are radical shifts in my perspective.
     They are the fault-line of where my will and His intersect.

He's readying my heart for a quaking.

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