stories in the mess

Working two jobs and barely having time to even eat meals, chores were far from my radar this month. Not only did the unclean laundry pile up on my floor, but the Christmas presents (and wrapping paper) and the new fund development materials that InterVarsity sent me lined every inch of my floor.

Generally, my life is filled with clutter.  But when the messy becomes burdensome, something's gotta give.  For the past several days I was filled with worry any time I hopped out of my room that I would sprain my ankle in my attempts at dodging clothes and important (oops) documents and whatever else layered the floor.

And so a safe path in and out of my room became my project for Saturday.

Never mind the dirty laundry--that task was easy.  It was putting order to the work material that made me want to pull my hair out.  Before I could even think about organizing it (which I haven't really gotten to yet) I had to thoroughly clean out my desk.

But in an afternoon that I had been dreading for weeks, I found a sort of peace.  Somewhere amidst the messy, stories of my life danced about.

I found pictures from my toddler years that I held in my hand and remembered how small and innocent and pure I was back then.

When in doubt, assume I'm the one in the Wizard of Oz gear.

I boxed up photos from my middle school years and my heart broke when I thought of the downward spiral that began for me sometime in those "tween" days.

I threw away memories from my darkest late high school/early college years that I did not want to keep.  But I looked at each photo first.  And I allowed my mind to trail back to that standstill in time.  And I wasn't just throwing away pictures.  I was throwing away stories.

One by one, I threw away my past.  Sin by sin.  Heartbreak by heartbreak.  I let them go.

And after a garbage bag was full of trash and a box was labeled and ready for the attic, I pushed those snapshots away from my life.  My past may have led me along the way, but it sure doesn't define me anymore.  I have been washed.  I have been cleaned.

I am a new creation.

Amid the physical messiness of my room, the messiness of the timeline of my life and the past brokenness of my spirit emerged.  I emptied those desk drawers and boxed up those old albums so that I could fill those drawers with my Scriptural references and InterVarsity material.

Throwing out the old to make room for the new.

As I added my last stack of fund development cards and closed the drawer, I could tangibly see that.  Over the past several years, Jesus had one-by-one been removing my past and working on my heart to make room for this new life.

To make room for Him.

My room?  Still pretty cluttered.  My heart?  Still pretty messy.

But there's a pathway through my room now.  And I don't have to be afraid of twisting my ankle.  A pathway that leads me right to my King.

Your Presence

Twice in the past twenty four hours I have felt the presence of God around me like never before.  Last night I was laying in my bed, reading a book about a missionary, and all of a sudden the air felt thick with His presence.  Jesus was there.  I knew it.

I was afraid to move, unsure if it would cause this intimate interaction with Him to break.  I averted my gaze from the pages of my book and looked around my room.  Physically I couldn't see Him, but it felt like His Spirit was completely enveloping me.

And then today as I was praying out loud in the same spot on my bed where I encountered Him last night, I felt Him again.  It wasn't as strong of a sixth sense as it had been the previous night, but this time I heard answers to my prayers.  I literally sat on my bed conversing with Jesus.  I didn't hear an audible voice, but words were being spoken to me--something that I realize sounds strange but I don't know how else to explain it.  I've only ever really heard Jesus in this way a few times before and most of those times were with really big decisions.  This conversation wasn't about a big decision.  I was simply feeling tempted by my flesh and He responded to my cries for help.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About a week ago, I felt attacked by the enemy and in a helpless spiritual state.  Chains needed to be broken.  Action needed to be taken.  But I was afraid to move.

You see, it's easy to become stagnant in certain areas of your walk.  Not wanting to give over that (be it time, energy, a specific sin, etc).  Wanting the road to always be "easy."  Never wanting to engage in battle.  But the truth is, it's impossible to progress if something is stagnant.  Actually I would argue that stagnancy isn't even actually possible.  If you feel stuck in the day-to-day, I would argue that you are moving backwards.  You are either drawing closer to God or farther from Him.  Living in a sinful world, it's impossible to just stay the same.

Additionally, the more I took steps toward these battle-lines of ministry that I now find myself in, the more the enemy made it his objective to take me out.

After many conversations (with friends and with Jesus) and many tears, I finally broke.  I finally gave in to Him.  I finally started wrestling with my sin from a place of victory instead of a place of uncertainty (1 Corinthians 15:57; 2 Peter 1:3).

I finally started taking seriously my spiritual disciplines and carving out multiple devotional times a day.   I started taking seriously the way that the world affects me and have been averting my attention from particular sensory input that my brain receives throughout the day.

And let me tell you friends, it has made all the difference.

I believe that because I've allowed myself to be diligent in spending time with Jesus this week, I was able to be in-tune to the Spirit like I have never been before.  I'm not special or important.  Jesus didn't reveal Himself clearly to me twice in the past 24 hours because I'm a saint (trust me, I'm far from one).

The reality is, He's always been there.  I just had chosen to ignore Him most of the time.  I've been known to not give Him the hang out time that He deserves and to allow one too many things to slide into what I permit to infect my mind.  As soon as I started to engage in that battle and fight the input that I was receiving from the world... as soon as I started to truly give time to spending with Jesus... the cloud that the world had put around my senses was lifted.

And I was free to feel Him and hear from Him.

Lesson learned:  Don't ever think that I "have it under control" for a week and can go a few days without allotting any time for Jesus.

He is Lord.  And He wants to spend time with me each day.  And He will do whatever it takes to bring me back to Him when He sees me going in my own direction.  He pursues me even when I don't pursue Him.

Talk about amazing grace.

I breathe You in

I lay still in this open room.

I breathe in.

And out.

Slowly,

   Deeply.

      Eyes closed.

I breathe You in, God.

Because You surround me.

This air is light.

It has become so

                     natural

without the humdrum of

                               normal.

Laying down these swords that fight the battles.

For now,

For today,

I will lay here.

(Still.)

With You.

For now,

For today,

I will breathe out the aroma of war,

And breathe in You.

As You fill me up to send me out.

Spiritual Formation Retreat

On our ride home from the overnight Spiritual Formation Retreat (for InterVarsity Staff), I found myself reflecting out loud to my (soon-to-be) supervisor.

"On your way home from this retreat last year, you met me while I was home for Thanksgiving at Panera.  At that point, I left the conversation almost positive that I'd pursue a volunteer year in the Blue Ridge Region. And now here we are, coming back from the same retreat just one year later.  Can you believe that was only a year ago?  I feel like I've been in this region forever.  I feel like I've known you guys my entire life."

That thought boggled my mind.

The downstate New York and New Jersey staff teams spent the past two days encountering Jesus and fellowshipping with one another.  Some of the people (like Chris and Christine) I spend almost every day with.  Some people (like my Central/South New Jersey Area Team) I see/talk to/pray with on a pretty regular basis.  And others I had only met once or twice before.

But regardless, most of the people that I spent the past 24 hours with I truly feel like I've known forever.  These people have welcomed me with open arms into this region and I've been blown away by how well each person has cared for me as not only a staff worker, but as a sister in Christ.

This week I found myself in multiple laughing fits as we played Train Wreck (or "fruit basket" as this region calls it) and lovingly teased each other like siblings so often do.  I realized that even though I am usually shy at first and even though I had only met several people a couple of times, I was able to completely be my crazy ENFJ self.  I even realized that any time extroversion was mentioned people automatically looked at me.  (An intervention for my caffeine addiction was also apparently discussed while I was in the bathroom at one point...)  Shockingly, on the first day I found myself in tears telling my deepest, darkest secret to some of these co-workers and asking for prayer that Jesus would meet me in that place.  These people know me.  Deeply.  From my stupid love for coffee to my goofy personality and to the wounds that cut me the deepest.  They. Know. Me.

Home.  That's what this region feels like.  Home.

As much as I've tried to fight it, as much as I so miss my fellowship in Virginia, I can never go back.  I'm building relationships in my town, in my church, and in this InterVarsity Region.  I'm seeing it confirmed time and time again that this is truly the place Jesus led me to--that nothing over the past four years was an accident.  Everything has led to me applying for InterVarsity Staff in this region.

How did a place that I avoided for so many years so easily come to be where I know I belong?  Jesus.  That's how.  I laugh when I think that I ever thought I could run from this calling to NY/NJ.  This calling to staff.  It amuses me to think I doubted that Jesus would lovingly perfectly place all these pieces of the puzzle together.

It still hurts when I call my best friends on the phone and know they are hours and hours away.  It still hurts when I come home to a house that's empty of roommates and laughter.  It still hurts when I know that my community is just going to look different here than it did in college.

But I love it all the same.  And I'm content.  And I'm full.  And I'm comfortable.

Settle down, it'll all be clear.

Don't pay no mind to the demons,

They fill you with fear.

The trouble it might drag you down.

If you get lost, you can always be found.

Just know you're not alone,

Cause I'm gonna make this place your home.

Hitting a deer to learn I am dear to Him

I'm on my way home from a prayer meeting last night when out of the corner of my eye I see a deer charging my car.  I felt like I was the red flag in a bull fight.  It hit the front corner on the driver's side, slid into the entire front end, and rolled away.  Within minutes, two cop cars came.

Officer #1:  "What'd you do to Bambi?!"
Me:  "Wahhhh I didn't mean to...."
Officer #1:  "Are you gonna cry?"
Me:  "Maybe over the fact that I don't have money to fix my car."
Officer #2:  "Did it have antlers?"
Me:  "WHAT?!  I don't know?  It flew at me!"
Officer #2:  "It FLEW?  Great.  You ruined Christmas."
[Hilarious.]

As much as I was annoyed at the financial and situational inconvenience (I now won't have a car for awhile), I could feel how much Jesus had divinely intervened to protect me.  This animal could have smashed through my windshield at the speed in which it was traveling.  It also came just inches from pounding into the driver's side doors.  But instead of hurting me, it left the front of my car beat up and me inside safe and warm.  I mean, the air bags didn't even go off.

Gregg was still at the prayer meeting and so I called him to drive down the road and come pick me up while they towed my poor little vehicle away.  Even though I felt like I inconvenienced him, he kept asking me if I was okay and even read me Scripture when he could tell my frustration with the expenses was getting to me.  He explained insurance to me, handled talking to the tow truck guy... all things that I was too cold (I wasn't wearing a coat...) and shy to do on my own.

Robin called us to see if I was okay after he told her what happened.  She immediately asked if I needed a ride to work in the morning.

When I got home and posted a short status on facebook about it, my notifications BLEW UP.  People were commenting left and right asking me if I was okay and trying to figure out my rides to and from work for the next few weeks.  At one point, a couple of women from church were literally talking without me responding on their own, trying to figure out how to get me a car.

I am truly blessed.  I was sitting on my bed, in my warm house, safe and completely unharmed, watching a Duke game (we won, by the way!), as I continued to read the conversation that these women were having to try and serve me.

Jesus was showering me with blessings.  Teaching me to appreciate the community that He has given me, even if it doesn't look the specific way I requested (i.e. I don't have roommates).  Teaching me that He is keeping me safe and has plans for me and wants me here in this town, at this school, in this church for a reason.  I don't have to worry about not having a paying job, not being around my friends from college, and not being in what I consider to be a "perfect town."  I don't even have to worry about accidents like these because He's got me.  Because I'm His daughter.

Because He has great plans for me right here.

It took hitting a deer for me to realize how much He holds my life in His hands.
Sorry little guy, wish it could have happened some other way...

let's go deeper.

Intimacy with God.

Sometimes, my walk seriously lacks intimacy.  Sometimes my relationship with Jesus is full of worship songs, second-long prayer requests, and (reluctantly) studying difficult parts of the bible to grow in knowledge.

These things are good, but where's the intimacy?

Rarely do I ever just chat with Jesus.  Rarely do I ever just allow myself to have fun with Him.

Rarely do I do anything (cleaning my room, showering, driving, working out, etc) without music on.  And even though most of my playlists are Christian artists, it begs the question...

Where is the quiet?

Where is the room to hear His response to me?

I can't really consider it a conversation if I do all of the talking and none of the listening.

Sometimes my relationship feels more like a space for me to vent and for me to list all of my requests (and even to just list all of my praises) before Him.  And even though Jesus desires for me to present my requests to Him, He desires so much more than just that.  Even though Jesus desires for me to in-depthly study Scripture to discover more of who He is, He desires so much more than just that.

Today I commit to more quiet.  More music-less car rides.  More meditating on the Word, rather than just study.

I'm grateful that I work with a bunch of people who do have this intimacy with Jesus.  I praise God in the way knowing them over these past 6 months has helped to shape and advance my own spiritual walk.  I'm grateful that I can leave work at the end of the day and say, "Jesus, I want to know you like he/she knows you.  I want more of that."

Jesus is ready and eager to have an intimate relationship with me.  And sometimes I let Him.  But sometimes my own agenda gets in the way.

Today I commit to more hearing and less talking.  More time hanging out and less time working.  My extreme extroverted-ness and achiever-mentality make both of those things a challenging stepping stone for me.

But I commit to more being and less doing.

More intimacy.

John 15:4

Remain in me, as I also remain in you.  No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

Home

I burst into Jess & Jen's house late Wednesday night with enough bags of unnecessary attire to clothe a small village.  Almost immediately I fell onto the couch in a fit of laughter as I carried on about some pointless story and could hear Jess giggling when I paused every once in awhile to take a gasp of air.

When I stopped for more than two seconds to catch my breath, Jess said, "I feel like this is the beginning of five very long days of the two of us talking and laughing extremely loudly."

Her expectation was met.

Madeline, Sarah, and I stayed with Jess in Fredericksburg for Homecoming weekend.  It was the first time the three of us college roommates had been together since graduation.  The first time the four of us crazies had been together as real world friends and not as students/staffworker. The first time Jess and I had been together since I joined her world of InterVarsity staffwork.  The first time I had been to Fredericksburg during the school year as a Mary Wash alumna.

Madeline, Jess, me

Sarah, me, Madeline

The over-extended weekend was filled with multiple trips to Hyperion and Sweet Frog, running into a zillion good friends who had also all graduated (some were even in town that were a few years older than us, meaning that they were a pleasant surprise to see!), attending a psychology alumni gathering to catch up with life-changing professors, going to a soccer game, taking a prayer walk around campus, and playing board games (for the record, Jelyssa won Settlers... so all is right in the world).

4 Generations of UMW InterVarsity Chapter Presidents!

The Fountain = favorite spot on campus

Hyperion with UMW alumni from '09-'12

Thursday night after large group Jess and I sat in my car and talked for a few minutes while the rest of the crew was running and screaming outside (naturally, because they ran into a group of friends on campus).  She brought up how much she witnessed me change over the past year.  How much Jesus had grown me even in the last five months.  He's healed me in areas that I never thought I'd see healing in.  And as much as I miss Fredericksburg, Virginia, I can see how much He has used the people in Ewing, New Jersey to develop me.

Leaving Monday evening was difficult.  Even still my heart aches for those college friends that have become such a part of me.  My heart yearns to be in close proximity once again to those friends that I had to leave in order to follow this call that Jesus has put on my life.

Despite the hurt that I feel in the deep parts of my soul, the truth is that it would hurt in its own way if I left New Jersey to move back to Virginia.  Tonight I sat with a handful of (new) good friends as we interceded for TCNJ on the campus.  I met these women no more than a month ago at our church's women's retreat and they are so willing and eager to partner with me in this ministry.

Maybe my friends at home aren't all my age or in the same life stage as my friends in Virginia, but these relationships are real and good.  There is value in the fullness of the body of Christ.

Though I wish I could have both of my worlds mesh into one, I know that I am blessed to have two homes.  Ewing and Fredericksburg.  New Jersey and Virginia.

There is a song that goes:
Home, let me come home.
Home is wherever I'm with you.
Ah, home, yes I am home.
Home is when I'm alone with you.

Home isn't in Ewing or Fredericksburg (though I sort of wish it was the burg, just because it's such an awesome town).

Home is when I'm crippled over laughing in the car with Sarah and Madeline. Home is when I'm sitting on a park bench with Jess drinking a pumpkin spiced latte. Home is when I'm playing in the Downs' pool or making salsa with Robin. Home is when I'm praying with a group of sisters from Calvary Chapel Mercer County. Home is when I'm being obnoxious with some of my silliest friends in the middle of a froyo place. Home is here. And there. And somewhere in between. Home is with college friends and family and church friends and professors and co-workers.

Home, let me come home.
Home is wherever I'm with you.
Ah, home, yes I am home.

No matter where I am, I am home. Because I have so many people that I care deeply for and that make it home, I can look around and feel safe and warm and loved. I can be sure that no matter who I'm with or where I am, I am home.

apple picking

Walking through the rows of trees, I stepped carefully around the fallen apples.  "These are good in this row, Katie," I interrupted my story to exclaim.

Every few paces, I stopped at a bundle of apples to look without touching first.  Attempts at examining at first glance which one was the best.  And then, without hesitation, I zeroed in on one and plucked it off the tree.

Turning it around in my hand, I looked for blemishes.  If I was the slightest bit dissatisfied, I tossed it on the ground.  Even if it was a relatively good looking piece of fruit, I didn't want to pay for something that wasn't the best.  Unwilling to mess around with anything ordinary.

Picky?  Maybe.  But I'd like to call it cautious.  Pruning, in an orchard containing good apples, to only allow the best in my life.

I found one to munch on and passed it to Katie to take a bite as we moved on to another row.  My favorite season.  My favorite autumn activity.  And my favorite kind of apple.  Simple and good.

The simplistic things in life are really the most cherished.  Like the short quiet times I spend with Jesus each day.  Or the simple message of the Gospel.  Or the look in someone's eyes when they hear for the first time that Jesus wants a relationship with them.  Simple.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I spent the night with my second family.  We went out to dinner.  Talked.  Laughed.  Played.  Watched silly youtube videos.  For our last activity, Robin and I made a pie with some of the apples I had picked earlier in the day.

Using the simple gifts to create something more complex.

The simple sustains you.  The simple gets you going.  But we are to produce from the simple.

Jesus does a work in my heart each day, so that I can feel the sweetness of His presence, yes, but more importantly so that I can go and make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28:18-20).  What is the use of me growing in my knowledge of the Gospel and in my spiritual gifts if I do not then use them to further the Kingdom?

And because I only allowed the best into my brown bag earlier that day, we were able to make a pretty great tasting apple pie later that night.  Pruning the good, even if it's hard.

Focusing on, spending our time on, and developing the best that God has for us so that we can, with Him, create something beautiful.  Create something complex.

Create something Kingdom-centered.

testimony time

The room erupted with laughter and tears this morning as I gave my testimony at the closing of the women's retreat to a room of 55 women, most of whom I had just met.  A testament to God's grace and love and redemption.

Testimonies.  I love them.  It's my favorite part about making new friends in the Church.  "So, what's your life story?" is probably my most frequently asked question when I meet somebody.

And that's exactly what I did this weekend at the retreat.  Listened as handfuls of women shared their personal and emotional journeys with me--while also asking so many follow-up questions that one of my new friends even commented she felt like she was at an interview. Oops?

I love testimonies because while each person's story is so unique, they all share the common thread of Truth.  All weaved by the same Creator.  All bursting with His goodness and forgiveness.

Today I felt a rush of adrenaline sharing my story, microphone in hand as I leaned against the pulpit.  Not only because I love presenting (hello, ex theatre girl over here...), but mostly because I was able to share the entire thing.  It wasn't watered down.  I didn't skip over the hard parts.  I shared it all.  Without shame.  Without guilt.  Without embarrassment. Something that I couldn't have done three months ago.  For the first time, I truly gave my story--my whole story--up to the Lord for His glory.

As I was sharing this testimony, I couldn't help thinking, "Jesus, this.. this moment right here.. is a testimony in and of itself!"

Pieces of my past that brought me such shame and silence six months ago I am now liberated from.

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. (John 8:36)

Jesus brought me to a place of not only being freed from the temptation of that sin, but to a place of being freed from the shame of it, as well.

I had handfuls of people come up to me after to comment on certain things or ask for prayer in ways that my story matched theirs and resurfaced hard emotions.  One of the common things I heard over and over was, (and honestly, I hear it almost every time I share my story...) "That is such a GREAT testimony!"

Yes.  Praise be to God.  He literally turned my "darkness" to light. (Psalm 18:28) Thanks to another friend for pointing out to me today my name change!

I smile back, nod and say, "Yes!  He is so good!"  But inside I'm thinking, "But He is not done with me yet!"

My God is not done with me, yet.

Sanctification.

Learning.

Turning more like Him as I seek to know Him more.

I want to say, "Ask me in a year to chat with you one-on-one!  Because I'm sure that I'll have some equally miraculous stories to share!"

I might have shared my testimony today, but it's not over.

Oh no.

This journey has just begun.

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

     and he saved them from their distress.

He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness,

     and broke away their chains.

Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love

     and his wonderful deeds for mankind,

for he breaks down gates of bronze

     and cuts through bars of iron.

--Psalm 107:13-16

I'm Movin' On

I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons,

Finally content with a past I regret.

I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness,

For once I'm at peace with myself.

I've been burdened with blame,

Trapped in the past for too long,

I'm movin' on.

I heard this song for the first time sometime during my senior year of college and I remember thinking, One day, I will be able to say this.  One day, Jesus will move me on from my past.

Since the day that I got saved, I struggled with a few things that stemmed directly from the sinful pre-Christ life I had just come out of.  Strongholds that produced so many ugly thoughts and actions.  Neurological pathways that were strongly wired.  I was too afraid to talk about anything and instead crumbled into a ball of silence.

Surrounded by shame.
Surrounded by the belief lie that I would never be able to break those connections in my brain.
That they were too hard-wired.
That it would be too much of a battle.

A year and a half ago, I began to talk. About all of these issues.

I began the journey toward the goal of Satan no longer using my silence to make me feel shame.

Progressively over the past year and a half, I've gained more accountability and more prayer warriors to intercede for me.  I've failed and dealt with the consequences of that sin.  I've experienced moments of victory.  I've wanted to cry when those neurological connections seemed too strong to break.  I've wanted to give in when I didn't think I could do it anymore.

After a little over a year of struggling I decided that I was done.  I was sick of feeling defeated.  I decided that Jesus was going to win this battle for me.

Prayer.  Fasting.  Struggles through resisting sin.  Cutting out certain things, people, and places in my life that were triggers for me.

Then, a couple of months ago (by starting small) I slowly allowed myself to be in situations where I knew it was possible for my past to be triggered.  I slowly welcomed back people and places and things, all the while praying without ceasing during those situations and making sure that I had a solid group of sisters praying for me from their homes.  I wanted to test my progress and my faith (2 Corinthians 13:5).  I didn't want there to be limits to what I could do and where I could go and who I could see so I slowly welcomed those things back into my life with the knowledge that I have freedom in Christ.  That I can live in the liberty of having all of my chains broken.

That His divine power has given me everything I need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3).

I didn't do this prematurely.  I took very small baby steps.  Praying all the while.  Having others pray for me.  Working my way with Christ to freedom.

Recently, I was faced with the epitome "big deal" testing of my faith.  I was a little nervous, and a sister even advised me not to put myself in that situation.  But I stood confident in the fact that I was ready to fight the hardest battle of them all.

While in the midst of it, I barely felt any temptation.  Those strongholds have been broken.  And the split seconds that I sensed any sort of temptation I immediately prayed, Oh no. We're not even going to go there, Alyssa.  Jesus, break these chains.  I repeated the Scripture over and over in prayer that says, Create in me a pure heart, O God (Psalm 51:10).  And after that split second of temptation, it was gone.  Like the song says, "I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness."  Through Christ, I am strong.

I am free.

Free from my past.  Free from those strongholds that held me in chains for too long.  Free from shame.

I know that I still need to be aware that I still live in a broken world.  I still need to filter things I hear and see and I still need to enter many situations with the knowledge that I will need to be praying the entire time.  I still need to constantly keep my heart in check.

But I can now live with the experience of Jesus changing my brain by me inviting Him into the battle.

He has set me free.

i prayed for a friend

Last night I prayed for a friend.

Out loud.  Sitting on my bed.  Feeling defeated after a summer of lonely.  Missing the community I had in college.  I prayed for a friend.

This week I felt a bit lonely.  I tried to balance the confirmation that I've received from Jesus that I'm supposed to be in New Jersey with the reality that my best friends either live in Virginia, Kentucky, or Tennessee.  I tried to balance the fact that even though I've felt so at peace with being here and God has blessed me in so many ways, I still don't feel like I have fellowship here with people my age and in the same stage of life as me (I have a couple of friends, but I don't get to see one very often because she's busy and the other just started college again and thus our schedules/lives will now be very different).

I was beginning to believe lies that because God hasn't given me the community that my heart (and extroverted-ness) so desperately need, He doesn't want me here.  That maybe I should re-consider moving back to Virginia.  Yet this didn't make any sense because I know I'm supposed to be staff at TCNJ.

And so I prayed for a friend.  I started listing to God the requirements I'd like:  Someone in their twenties, but out of college.  A Christian.  Likes to play Settlers (c'mon, it's important...).  At first I thought maybe I was being too picky, but then I realized that He had given me ~90 of those people in college!  And six of us women (plus four men) all lived in the same apartment building together this past year.  God had provided a plethora of best friends for me in college and He could do it again if He so wanted.

So I prayed last night with a desperate, lonely plea.

Today as I was getting ready for my day, I received a text from Dani.  Dani is Jordan's wife.  Jordan was a friend in my graduating class in college who served on the InterVarsity student leadership team with me and now just started dental school at Temple University in Philly.  When Dani and Jordan got married last year, Dani (obviously) moved to Fredericksburg and us girls got to know her pretty well.

She was texting to ask me if I just so happened to live near Trenton, NJ.

uhhh....

Come to find out, they just moved into an apartment that's about twenty minutes from my house!!!!!  Not only are they in my age bracket, but they are both in love with Jesus and Settlers!!!! (With Jesus trumping Settlers, of course! ;b)

Today I went over to catch up with Dani (and see her baby bump hehehe!) while Jordan was in class.  On the drive over I could do nothing else besides praise God for answering my prayers immediately.

Jesus. is. so. good.

I'd still like to find some more friends close by--because we all know an extrovert can't rely on just a few--and I'd definitely like to make enough solid relationships to eventually have some roommates.  But in the meantime while God is working all of that out, He provided for me like a loving Father would.

He, again by giving me yet another desire of my heart, solidified my calling to be in New Jersey.

Hooray for friends!  Hooray for Jesus!

Be. Go. Do.

What would it look like if we actually lived out our calling to make disciples of all nations?  If we functioned outside of ourselves, outside of our own desires to just "feel good" about loving Jesus?  If we actually allowed our cups to be in a constant state of overflow?

Lately, the only things on my mind are thoughts of what could be if every Christian was missional.

If every Christian woke up in the morning with the thought, I have purpose today.

What would it look like if we actually grasped the fact that Jesus saving us from our sin and for heaven is only half of the good news?  If we truly functioned out of the mindset that the other half of the Gospel is that He yearns to see His Kingdom come now?

On earth as it is in heaven.

What would it look like to break the typical mold of status-quo Christianity?  To go outside of these Christian social norms we've created that have become stumbling blocks to the Message?  What would it look like to pursue relationships with intentionality?  To change the world by realizing that Jesus is in the process of redeeming it, and that His method for doing so is people?  To live outside of our Christian bubbles?  To step eagerly into the plans that He has for each one of us?

To be Kingdom-minded.

What would it look like if we didn't become complacent about the growth in our own spiritual lives?  If we took risks on ourselves and pushed others to do the same with the mindset that we are growing not just for ourselves, but with the intention of partnering with Jesus in redeeming the world?

This is it, boys.  This is war.

What are we waiting for?

Why don't we break the rules already?

This secular song has been echoing in my head during these restless nights as I've been tossing and turning because my mind is too full of vision to sleep.  These words infuse my being as I get up to pray or read Scripture or write my thoughts out in spoken word poetry because I realize that yet again, excitement for transforming lives overtakes my desire to sleep.

What would it look like if we truly grasped that we are in a war?  That we need to break these rules we Christians have set for ourselves?

Where will you begin?

Where I am called to start is the college campus.  I want see a change of culture in these places where the future leaders of America rise up out of.  The places where young adults come to figure out where they stand.

Be. John 15:4

Go. Mark 16:15

Do. Philippians 4:9

Ooohhh I feel it in my bones.

messy

What denotes the end of the summer and the beginning of autumn my favorite season is not students being back on campus or even the pool club closing.  It most definitely is marked by the first sip of that pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks.

Tomorrow I have plans to get some work done over this seasonal drink to allow my mind to shift from summer to fall mode.  But I realized that my room was in desperate need of a quick clean sweep before I could fully retire my summer self.  The backpack needed to be emptied of beach sand and a lifeguard whistle and the blankets and pillows from numerous sleepovers needed to be folded and put away.  There were some clothes that I never got around to hanging up, and I figured that I'd listen to some 90s hits on Pandora as I made my room sparkle for an hour.

My life was busy this summer, to say the least.  Working a minimum of 6 days a week meant that on the seldom times I had off, I crammed it with a social life and made certain that friends slept over or that I went on short trips.  But when the fleeting friend-filled weekends ended, it was always right back to work--leaving little to no time for unpacking suitcases or putting away the makeshift "beds."  If I was lucky enough to find time to do laundry I usually didn't have time to put away the clothes properly and I dumped them into a pile on the floor to allow my laundry basket to fill up with the dirties again.

So I took an hour tonight and put away the clothes, blankets, and pillows.  And when I looked up with expectation of seeing a new and improved room, it still looked equally as messy.  Somehow mail and papers and bible study notes and cotton balls and loose change and post-it notes covered not only my floor, but also every dresser in my room.  I now have to find time to sort through piles and piles of paper and vacuum the carpet.

Without me knowing it, the messy fell over the messy, which fell over the messy.

My bulky sweatshirts and blankets covered the clutter that will be even more time-consuming to pick up.

I was living in ignorance, not realizing that each toss of a piece of mail or unwanted article of clothing was creating a hazardous environment.  Creating a culture of messy in my room.

Being messy leads to messy.
Being messy without much regard for it, leads to a day when I question "how did it even get to this point?"

And so I find my heart some of the time.

When I'm not being conscious or keeping myself in check or remaining in my disciplines for a season, Jesus peels back a layer and shows me how deep the messy goes.  All it takes are a few lazy days and I find myself caught in a spider web of complications.  I'm nervous to embark on this cleaning spree because I know how time consuming the clutter will take.  I know the effort that I must give to Jesus in this process.

So I guess this housekeeper will be working on her room this week.
As her Housekeeper works on her heart.

spiritual birthday

I called,
You answered.
And You came to my rescue,
And I wanna be where You are.
"Came to My Rescue" by Hillsong

When someone speaks of three years, I never perceive it as a long time--especially when I think of how quickly a summer or an academic year tends to fly by.

When someone speaks of three years, if we are looking into future plans it never seems that far away.

But when I think of what happened three years ago tonight, it feels like a lifetime ago.

Perhaps because it literally was a lifetime ago.

Three years ago tonight I opened a new journal, allowing the Author to begin writing my life on a fresh page.  I was washed clean as I allowed Jesus to fill my heart.  I became a new creation with one simple prayer. "God, if you exist then change my heart... because I don't want to live for You right now.  I don't want to change my lifestyle.  I don't even know if You're out there. But if You are, change me. Because I can't do it on my own."  Those were the only words that crossed my mind before heading back to my dorm that night.  I remember making a conscious decision that I would "try" the whole "not drinking thing" and see where it got me.  I can now laugh with the Lord about this statement I made to myself. Oh how nieve I was...

Though I didn't know it then, those were bold and life-changing words.  God answered that prayer and I was different from that moment on.  Yet, it took me a couple weeks with a lot of reading and several conversations to fully understand what was happening--to understand that I was a Christian now.  That I was saved.  That there was no going back after praying that prayer.  That the whole time I thought maybe I'd "try it out," what I really did was open by heart to Jesus--and that's not something I'll ever be able to reverse.  Ever.

Though I could not have articulated it that night, I know that September 1, 2009 is the night I received the Holy Spirit.  Something shifted inside of me.  Something that words can't describe.

It really was like I had lived my life blind and all of a sudden I could see.  I know that's really cliche to say, but there is really no better way to describe it.  All of a sudden I understood concepts that were confusing to me like grace and mercy.  I understood Scripture and looked forward to reading it.  Though still tempted, no part of me ever wanted to go back to the party scene.  All I wanted was Jesus.

Amazing grace,

How sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now I'm found.

Was blind but now I see.

Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

And grace my fears relieved.

How precious did that grace appear,

The hour I first believed.

It still blows my mind that this night occurred three years ago.  Especially when I remember it took me a couple of weeks to comprehend what had happened and another four months to fully be able to grasp the Gospel at a cognitive level.  It blows my mind because I realize that three years is not a long time, but it feels like decades and decades ago.

I wrote this blog entry last year on my "second birthday" and I would say that my feelings are pretty much the same--except now it feels weirder that it's only been such a short time because I am a college grad, training in hopes to go on InterVarsity staff and to work in full-time ministry.  Tonight I was asked how it feels to be "three today" and my only thought was "weird" because that night seriously feels like it took place ages ago.  The amount of healing and redemption I've experienced... the places God's brought me out of and the rate at which He's growing me... it's literally jaw-dropping that it's only been three years.

I entered college as a broken, lost, rebellious teen and left it as a whole, found, redeemed missionary who is on fire for Jesus.

I didn't know it then, but this night I've been telling you about is when everything changed for me.  Nothing will ever ever ever be the same.

My entire life was radically transformed by the Gospel.

Forever I am changed.
     And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Jesus answered, "Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit.  Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.  You should not be surprised at my saying, 'You must be born again.'" (John 3:5-7)

"Spiritual Birthday" card that my dearest 8-year-old friend, Hope Downs, water-colored for me. :) love her.

prayers to praise

Last night I felt like my life was a movie that I was watching in a theatre.  Waiting for the end credits to scroll at any minute and for someone to tell me that it was all make-believe.  Staring in utter disbelief at the things going on around me.

I sat, still, for the entire two hours of an evangelistic event.  Repeating the same prayer over and over in my brain.  The same prayer that I had said a million times for three years.  But this time, more fervently.  This time, my mind was screaming this well-reherased prayer and my eyes were filled with tears.  This time, I had to dig my nails into my legs to keep from shouting out my pleas to God.  Soften his heart.  Make him realize he needs you.  Make him see Your love.  Soften his heart.  Jesus, soften his heart.  Complete desperation.  Complete dependence on Him.  Knowing that nothing I did and nothing the speaker said could change his heart.  Only Jesus could.  Complete and pure dependence.

And at the end when that call to faith came I sat even more still, as if that were even possible.  My body felt hot and time seemed to stand still and the silence echoed louder than the speaker's words.  Stand up.  Stand up.  Stand up.  Stand up.  I didn't know how to do anything else but chant those two simple words silently to God.

And he stood.  And my body went even more still.  And the silence echoed even louder.  And I questioned if I was just in some kind of daze.

And as he walked toward the front of the room, I frantically looked around and heard my thoughts shout, Where's Robin?!  I locked eyes almost instantaneously with this mentor of mine from across the room as more of those tears came.  I had to dig my nails even harder into my legs to keep myself from bursting into a loud and long-awaited sob.  I could feel my body literally begin to shake from the state of shock it was in.

As I watched my pastor pray with him and felt my spiritual mother sit down next to me, I relaxed a bit from sitting so very still.  These prayers were still on repeat in my mind and I remained in a haze of disbelief at what was really going on around me.

I'm not sure what happens next.  I'm not even really sure what's actually going on in his heart right now.  But I know that a prayer I had been praying for three years was answered.  A heart was softened.  A door was opened.  And I was present to see and feel every minute of it.

What I do know is that I am still called to pray.  What I do know is that this prayer can now be tweaked from "soften his heart" to "Lord, let him seek after you wholeheartedly."

For Your Word tells me that if someone seeks You with all of their heart, they will find You.

They will find You.
They will find You.
He will find You.

And You will bring him back from captivity.

here we go.

Today I discussed with my other "NF" friend (I promise that this whole post will not be about Myers-Briggs...) about the ups and downs we go through.  Most of the time I enjoy being an NF because I love how intuitive and relational I am created to be.  But these middle letters of my ENFJ personality come with an emotional roller coaster that sometimes is frustrating to ride.  One second I'm up and the next I'm down--rarely ever in the middle and rarely ever staying on one end of the spectrum for too long.  As an NF I feel everything--which can be good or bad, depending on the emotions that engulf me.

The past few days it's been heavy on the down side.  I've allowed bitterness and anger, sorrow and regret, jealousy and pride to control every neuron in my brain.  Affecting all of my interactions.  I didn't even remember clearly why I was so angry; I just knew that I felt bitterness.  And I felt it hard.

But tonight I consciously fought these feelings down before approaching the events that were planned.  Tonight was my last night of the summer.  My last night before the next phase of life hits.  Yes, I've been doing tasks for InterVarsity all summer, but freshmen move in tomorrow and I will be on campus the entire day.  Tomorrow marks my first day as a (volunteer) staff worker actually ministering to my own students on their campus.  Tomorrow marks the end of an era and the beginning of an exciting journey that the Lord has me on.

And I spent this last night with the people that I love.  Playing my favorite "water football" game in the pool.  Cuddling with two of my favorite kids during some worship songs.  Watching my dear friend Katie get baptized.  I spent the night reflecting on the work that I've seen Jesus do in Katie's life.  The ways in which we've helped each other grow in the Lord in the year we've known each other.  The ways in which we challenge each other and are open and vulnerable with each other.  The ways in which I see Jesus redeeming her and growing her and changing her heart.

I reflected on this preciousness of community as I enjoyed a night of sweet fellowship, worship, and prayer.  The bitterness disappeared when I allowed myself to just be immersed in Jesus' presence.  When I rested in the fact that life is so much more simple than I make it out to be in my mind.  Life is about loving Jesus and loving others.  It's about abiding in Him and joining in on community.  It's not about structures or leadership styles or even about all of these events that we take so much time to plan.  Yes these things are important and should not be neglected, but the simplicity of love that comes with just being with Jesus and in fellowship with others negates all of those differences of opinions.

And I realized that it is this simplicity that makes me eager to do college ministry.  It is this love and passion that drives every step I take toward going on InterVarsity staff full-time.  I know how much of an impact InterVarsity had on Katie's life and in her going forth with baptism tonight.  (And how much of an impact it was in my own life.)  My hope is that every TCNJ student grows and heals and is redeemed in the unshakable love that Christ has for them.  That every TCNJ student comes to the deep understanding of how good and important and necessary community is.  That every TCNJ student experiences the richness and wonders of Jesus that I experienced with this group of believers tonight.

Here we go.
We're hitting the ground running.
My heart feels softer than it did a month ago.
     A week ago.
          A day ago.
You are cleaning me and healing me.

Here we go.
I'm entering this new phase of life with You.
Ministering to these students by the cup that overflows in my own life.
Mission work begins.

Here we go.
Tomorrow I am a servant on TCNJ's campus.
Tomorrow I surrender my career to You.
Tomorrow I step out once more in faith.

Here. We. Go.

three years

There is a sort of peace that has come over me as I've discovered that I am right where Jesus wants me to be.  My decision to do a volunteer staff year in this region, my involvement in my church, and my part-time job in the office have all intersected to birth an understanding that I was indeed listening to the Spirit when I made the choice to move back to New Jersey.

I am meant to be in this place.

As I sat on the porch, just 24 hours after arriving at Regional Staff Conference, I looked out at my (new) friends making fools of themselves in a Justin Bieber video and wondered how my heart ever longed to stay in Virginia.  I can finally say with a sigh of relief that I cannot picture myself as a staff worker in a different InterVarsity Region.  I have crazy weird connections to staff here, I am excited when talking about the rapid growth of the NY/NJ Region, and I (after only the second time of meeting most of these people) am able to be my crazy ENFJ self.  Regional Staff Conference was really, really good for me.  That's the only way I can describe it.  Really, really, really, really good.  People cared for me well, I laughed with new friends, had long, serious, and prayerful conversations with co-workers, and felt every cell in my body jump with excitement whenever we were discussing the task of reaching college students.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

This job, with this ministry, in this region makes me love being an adult in the "real world."  (And wish that all of my friends could get this revved up over their jobs.)  I was put here for a purpose.  I was made for it.

Throughout those four days at Regional Staff Conference, we discussed things in terms of our region's three year plan.  A three year period had just ended and we set new goals and prayed over these next three years.  In our area team meeting on the first day, I was given the task of looking over TCNJ's Annual Field Report from the last decade and calculating the percent increase of the different categories over the past three years.  Each staff worker then reported why they thought their chapter did (or didn't) reach their goals based on the correlations.

After a few calculations of the past three years I stared at my paper, trying to think in terms of real life and not numbers, since obviously this will be my first year with this new chapter.  Three years ago was... 2009, I thought as I tried to relate this report to real time, Three years ago I was going into my sophomore year of college... Then I stopped at my next thought:

Three years ago I wasn't a Christian.

I was sitting there, as a (volunteer) staff worker for InterVarsity... a person attempting to get hired for full-time ministry... analyzing the 3-year period that just ended for TCNJ and I realized that I wasn't even a Christian when those goals for the region were set.  And now, by the grace of God, as the new 3-year period began I was the one who stood up and wrote those goals alongside my initials on our regional poster.  Wretched, rebellious, me who three years ago wanted nothing to do with Jesus, is somehow undeservedly partnering with Him in His mission on this college campus.

God. is. so. good.

Talk about a miracle.  Talk about InterVarsity transforming lives and developing world-changers.
Talk about Jesus changing my heart.

after the storm

I've learned to expect attacks from Satan as I step up in leadership positions.

As I follow the call God's put on my life.

As I commit to fighting sin and confess secret struggles to my sisters.

As I am more devoted to prayer and reading His Word.

As I am becoming more like Him.

Most of the time, it hurts. And blows to my body that leave bruises just keep knocking me down.

But I will get back up.

I will persist.

Because a fight in honor of my God is worth it.

Because He has the power to heal those bruises.

Because after the storm, there is such an inexplainable calm.

After the rain and the winds and the lightening bolts cease,

     the earth is filled with peace.

I can step outside and encounter the sun reflecting off of the damp blades of grass.

I can see God's promise painted across the sky with more hope in it than a mere pot of gold at the end.

The earth sounds silent in comparison to the roars of thunder and howls of wind,
Leaving room to hear the birds and cicadas as they come out of hiding.

The summer air is cooler and more bearable.

And there's that scent that infiltrates my senses,

The smell of rain and life and summer.

The smell of freedom.

Egyptian Nights

There is a night from my freshman year of college--a time before I knew Christ--that jabs out of my pool of memories a bit further than the rest.  Though it was almost four years ago now, my friends still refer to it as "that night" because somehow it was so much crazier than the rest (and if you know anything about what my life was like then, you might know that's sort of hard to believe).

It was a night when I woke up the next morning actually scared.  Scared of consequences that I might have to face.  Of this road that I was on.  Of myself.  Though it went into the crazy "Alyssa Story" file with the thousands of other parties, I remember this was the only time I ever woke up the next morning and thought, I can't do this anymore.  (Obviously I didn't heed this warning from my own heart, as it took me another ten months to commit my life to Christ, but I think that fact really gives a clear indication for how intense this particular night actually was.)

What is really insane is that the person who now disciples me texted me while I was out that night.  She had never texted me at midnight on a Friday before and has never done so since.

I don't think that was a coincidence.

I think that Jesus was trying to get ahold of me... even then.  Even in the midst of this incredibly crazy situation.  Loving me through this time when I didn't even love myself.

For some reason, I found myself telling bits and pieces of this story to this said mentor today.  And after I said what I had opened my mouth to say I sat silent for some time, just looking out the window.  Remembering the extent of my slavery to sin.  Remembering the true distance I was from Jesus.

Remembering how lost I really was.

As I found myself in the midst of thinking about that fateful November night, I could feel my heart break.  I wished I could reach out to that pre-Jesus Alyssa and hug her and beg her with tears in my eyes to stop.  Explain to her that there is a King who loves her and wants something better for her.

It's important for me to from time to time actually reflect on the place of slavery that Jesus has rescued me from.  When life gets full with ministry responsibilities and my own spiritual battle that I have to engage in daily, it's easy to feel overwhelmed and worn down and maybe even sometimes find myself longing for those Egyptian nights like the Israelites (though, praise be to God, those longings are becoming less frequent and less intense).

So I have to remember.

Remember where I've been delivered from.  Remember how lost I was.  Remember how my life was radically changed by the Gospel.  Remember that the only thing that really matters is that I'm living for Jesus.

When I can put things back into perspective after these moments of reflection, the only thing that makes sense is to devote my life to Him.  Why wouldn't I after all He's done for me?

After a few explanations of that night Robin asked me a question regarding my past and I answered it truthfully.  But behind that "yes" was a high magnitude of sadness.  I responded to her non-challently when what I wanted to do was to sit in that passenger seat and sob--in sorrow for my past and in joy for where Jesus has taken me.  Joy that I surely do not deserve.

When I remember in gruesome and shameful detail the pit that Jesus pulled me out from, it puts everything back into perspective.  I understand why I live my life daily for Him.  I understand why I can't see myself in any other career but college ministry.

And I truly believe that no temptation or fear or trial could ever pull me away from devoting it all to Christ.  He died for me.  Pursued me when I rejected Him over and over.  And is in the process of redeeming my life now.  My life ought to be an act of worship.  Nothing else makes sense.

It's easy to forget the extent of my past when my every day life is so normalized by my "Christian activities."  But as much as it pains me to actually look back, I have to.  It brings me to my knees.  It humbles me.  And when I feel overwhelmed by this calling on my life it simplifies my entire career into one Truth: It is all for Christ.

goin with the flow

"Lyss, you drive," Jess declared while the two of us rushed to the car as if we had to be at Target at a specific time.
"Jess, do you have a key? ... Jess, do you have a key?" Jen called as she ran across the parking lot to us."
"No, do you?"
"No."
The three of us stared at each other, realizing we were locked out of the house.  The only person who had a spare key was working in DC (an hour away) until 5:30.

It was noon.

"Dang it," I said, "I'm supposed to be in NOVA at 5:30 to have dinner with a friend."
"You can just go and leave us and we'll wait to get the key."
"Yeah that's not gonna work because ALL of my belongings are in your house..."
"Ohhh..."
"But you know what?  I don't even care.  Goin' with the flow.  This is the new me."

This conversation that occurred on the last day of my 5-day vacation to Virginia basically summed up the entire trip.  What started as a two-month-in-advanced-planned trip to Fredericksburg of the six senior year "roommates" ended up as a week of me staying in Richmond and Fredericksburg without any of them.  One by one each of the "Building Ten girls" dropped out because of random conflicts.  And then there was one.

If you know me, you know that I am a planner.  My friends and I planned this trip to the hour.  Literally had an event filling every second we were going to be in town.  All of a sudden my plans went from 10,000 to 0.  But it was perfect.  I spent the first night in Richmond with the Hodi and the last three nights at Jess & Jen's house in Fredericksburg.

Those five days were full of unexpected events.  (Multiple) trips to Hyperion.  And Sweet Frog.  Sunday morning at my college church.  Holding my friends' BABY girl.  Drinking coffee.  Spiritual conversations.  InterVarsity chatter.  Learning a fun new (board?) game.  Catching up with several college friends.  Listening to some Missionaries tell stories.  Playing Settlers. Watching the Olympics.  And laughing.  Lots and lots and lots of laughter.

I LIVE at Hyperion while in Fredericksburg

If I told you I didn't miss living in this town, I'd be lying.
If I told you I didn't miss the people in this town, I'd be lying.
Yet, if I told you that Ewing wasn't where I know I'm supposed to be, I'd be lying.

It's a little bit nostalgic to cruise the streets of downtown Fredericksburg.  I miss college years.  I miss living in a cute, historic town where I can walk everywhere.

It's hard to hug good friends goodbye and hop in the car, knowing that I won't see them for several months.  Friends that I can spend 4 whole days with (talking the whole time as extroverts should...) and still find we have stories to tell each other at the end of the week.  Friends that say the same things at the same time.. all the time.

It's hard to live far away from college roommates and only chat once every few months over breakfast.  Or be so very far from my friends' families and not be able to visit their adorable new baby whenever I want to.  Hard to try and explain to 5 (and a half, as she would add) year old Grace Hodous multiple times why I can't come babysit her all the time anymore, as my heart breaks from missing those kids.

But at the same time, I am full.
Full of joy and blessings and love and friendship.
So grateful that I have friends across the east coast who love me and care deeply for me.
So grateful that I don't have relationships confined to just one area, but that I can travel far and still be able to share some laughs with a sister or brother.

So grateful that all week when someone asked me how living at home was I could answer with an honest and excited heart that I am loving Ewing.  That I am growing and changing and learning and thriving.  That I can see how God is working every area of my life to fit this puzzle together and in just two months, my reasons for being in New Jersey are evident.  I can smile and know in my heart that I wouldn't have it any other way because I can see God working more than ever before.  And. It. Blows. My. Mind.

If my original plans had worked out this week, I wouldn't have been able to see the people that I spent so many hours with.  I wouldn't have been able to actually process these feelings of missing Fredericksburg.  I wouldn't have been able to have so many fruitful conversations, nor would I have been able to watch the Olympics for a million hours while making our own ridiculous commentary.

If anything I've learned this past year, it is to go with the flow.  I need to stop trying to plan my life and stop getting aggravated when plans don't go my way.  Because God has better plans in store for me.  He blesses me with gifts that are better than what I would have chosen for myself.

This weekend, He took away my self-planned week with my best college friends and gave me such a wonderful time catching up with various people.  (And spending most of it laughing and watching the Olympics with ma home girl, Jess.)

This year, He took away my self-planned expectation to be on staff in the Blue Ridge and gave me such wonderful learning and working opportunities with InterVarsity in the NY/NJ region and on staff in my church office.  He gave me relationships with friends that I asked for and with a family (namely someone to mother me) that I didn't even know my heart so desperately needed.

What did I learn this week?
It's okay to miss Fredericksburg and the people there.  It's okay because I love them.  And it's also okay to be excited for this new phase of life in New Jersey.  It's okay because Jesus has me here for a purpose.

Greater things have yet to come,
Greater things are still to be done in this city.

identity

Identity.  Such a core concept I've been learning over the past year.  It's been coming up again and again in conversations, readings, and prayer.

Learning how to shift my belief-system to have my only identity be that of "a person in whom Christ dwells," rather than the identities that this culture wants to throw at me.

When those worldly identities were shaken this past year, my emotions went into chaos and my mind into over-drive.  Who am I, really?  Who does God say that I am?  What does that mean for me?

It's a simple concept:  I am a child of the King.  But it's one that takes a lifetime to grasp fully.

And in this season, I find myself wrestling with those same identity issues.

In InterVarsity settings, I am mistaken many times for a student (probably because I was a student my whole life up until two months ago).

"No, I'm not a student.  Am I a staff worker, you ask?  Err.. well.. no.  Kind of?  Not officially.  Just a volunteer, but that's the career goal... I'm here to learn/train."

At the doctor's office when I have to fill out paperwork I now stare blankly at the spot where it says, "occupation."  For as long as I can remember I filled it in without thinking.  Student.  Now what am I?  Part-time bookkeeper?    That's the paid thing.  Part-time volunteer-in-hopes-to-be-on-staff?  That's the career path.  What is my occupation?

"Am I in full-time ministry?  Errr uhmm... kind of?  I mean, not officially.  I'm a volunteer.  But kind of..."

"Where do I live?  Well the house that I grew up in.  Temporarily.  But I will jump at the first chance to move out and in with some roommates."

"Do I work at TCNJ?  No.  Yes.  I mean, I work AT TCNJ but FOR InterVarsity.  But like I said before that's not even my real job yet."

Even the simple things like my hair color.  I am trying to go back to my "natural" color but I have no idea what that is.  Blonde?  Brunette?  A weird mix of both?

"Where am I from?  Well here.  Right here.  But I spent the last four years in Virginia... I talk like a Southerner, you say?  That's funny to hear because I'm made fun of down south for being so Northern."

"What did I study in college?  Psychology and biology... but I hung out in the neuro part of them both.  It's not really it's own department at the undergrad level... but I made my own little path for my own passions and interests."

This list goes on and on.  I feel Jesus stripping away every part of my worldly identities to only grasp the identity that He wants me to have:  A person in whom Christ dwells.

There were things about me that defined me in high school and early college that I can no longer live by as a Christian.  I defined myself with partying, being the center of attention, being good at everything I did, and being the miserable artist who was always hurting.

Most of those things were stripped away and dealt with within my first few months of being a follower of Jesus.  But there are some things on that list that my heart wrestles with daily.  Some things that make me question where my identity really lies and what that means for my struggles and my heart.

I am learning.  I am growing.  And it is a battle to not try and cling on to some label.

But I know that those labels only hinder me.  They put me in a box and thus put God in a box by giving Him borders to work around in my heart.

It's a good thing that God will not allow me to have any other identity right now because it means that I can only define myself as His daughter.

Next time, I'm writing this on the form in the doctor's office:
Name:  Alyssa
Address:  New Jersey
Occupation:  A follower of Christ
Reason for seeing the doctor today:  The Great Physician needs to fix my heart problems
Allergies:  My sin
Medications that you take daily:  Reading of the Word

contradicting ocean

I love to swim in the ocean.

Getting in is always rough.  I have to Baywatch-run my way past the breakers to ensure that the waves don't knock me down.  I usually scream as I endure the cold, anticipating that a tsunami will take me out immediately.

But it never does.

And after the initial shock I am grateful to be in the cool water and off of the hot beach.

The beach where there is only dryness and my water bottle turns into boiling liquid within minutes.

The beach where sand covers my body, regardless of how hard I try to remain still on my towel.

Past the breakers, the ocean feels more safe.

Sharks could come.

Birds could swoop down.

A rip tide could get a hold of me.

But for some reason it feels strangely...

Safe.

Fearing it and laying still in it's peacefulness at the same time.

Trusting as I float in the safe waters.

It's the excitement when waves roll over me.

It's the laughing and playing.

It's the substance of life.

Life is mixed with ups and downs.  Tranquility and fun.

Life is understanding the point of living in contradiction.

Like being in two places at once.

Or having stage fright that gets your adrenaline pumping and drives your love for performing.

Or feeling safe and at peace while in constant fear.

How great is your goodness, which you have stored up for those who fear you, which you bestow in the sight of men on those who take refuge in you. (Psalm 31:19)

My safety refuge is when I tremble in fear in Your arms.  There I am most safe.  There life is most exciting.  There is where I experience that peace that transcends all understanding.

Hope & Faith taking on the ocean at LBI -- (photo credit:  Gregg Downs)

home

I found out that I was leaving Virginia sometime in January and I mourned moving for a very long time.  I loved my friends, the town that I spent a wonderful four years in, a region of IV that I knew well, having the occupation of a student, and really just the whole state of Virginia.  Pieces of me blossomed there and were left behind there and were shaped there.  It was the place I thought of when I spoke of home.

But now, only two months into life in Ewing, NJ, I am beginning to settle.  I've taken off the sackcloth and ashes and embraced life here, not as I did in the beginning when I felt forced to like it here, but because my heart is beginning to grow in this town.

I love my church and the friendships that are developing.  I really do like my job in the church office and I am so energized by helping out with and learning about this new IV region.  I count myself blessed for living near such quaint little towns and having a quick drive to the beach.

What is even more fantastic is that I now really believe that I am here for "such a time as this" (Esther 4:14).  The Lord's hand in moving me HERE at THIS time becomes more and more clear to me each week.  So many things are coming together in so many different categories of my life--family, friends, InterVarsity, church, my job, living situations, etc. I really reflect on my life at the end of the week in amazement.  I could have never dreamed for it to come together as perfectly as it seems to be fitting.

I'm starting to lose that itch to move back to Virginia (though I still think it would be fun to live in Richmond).  I'm starting to only really see myself here (who would have thought?!).

At some point over the last two months Fredericksburg stopped having the place of "home" in my heart and Ewing took over.

I am growing spiritually, while I simultaneously am feeling settled.  I feel comfortable, yet stretched.  Able to challenge and lead others, yet am definitely under leadership that challenges me all the same.  I see how I need the people here, and also how I am needed in the various circumstances I find myself in.

I'm going to celebrate the Lord's sovereign timing.
I'm going to rejoice that He makes all things work together for His glory.
I'm going to call this HOME.

thoughts as i painted today

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.  For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.  For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.  For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.  Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.  So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me.  For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me.  What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?  Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!
(Romans 7:15-25a)

This sin,

     it stains me.

It blots away the foundation of who I am.
Covers up the fact that I am made in Your image.

It reaches up and overtakes me,
Consumes me over and over.
Stains the core of my being.

But you shine through despite the dark patches,
     Despite the stains.
You are the center of all things,
     Of my life,
          Of my identity.

I undeservedly watch as you begin to clean up the grime,
     The stains that I've created.
          My mess.
               My dirt.

You wash,
     You redeem,
          so willingly.

Still, my heart is overwhelmed by this sin that
     Overtakes me.
          And taints me.
As I wonder when this battle will end.
     (I just want it to end.)

.