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.