I wrote this for a Bible response paper so if you are wondering why I randomly talk about things it's because I needed to include it. It's all over the place but I figured I'd share.
Bondage is like a prison. It cuts you off from what you love and sometimes we put our selves there. Bondage feeds on our fears. And fear and trust can not co-exist. When fear get’s into our hearts Satan delights because we’ve opened the door to the enemy. But how can you have bondage AND trust God. It’s like oil and water. The two will never mix. Fear and bondage create a gap between God and His children. The gap can only be filled with Jesus Christ, our way.
So who do I trust? I trust God and all His power. I trust my sister, best friend, my mother, and to be honest anyone who loves Jesus and has faith in His power to free people. Although for an extremely long time I don’t think I trusted anyone.
I hate to say it, but I don’t think I trusted God for a very long time. I don’t even think I grasped what trust was. I think trust comes when we love and the only way to truly grasp love is to surrender who we are for Christ and accept His love. I grew up knowing Jesus was my Savior and I never doubted the eternity. For this I am so grateful. But instead of looking at Him and having faith and wholeheartedly trusting Him, I trusted the bondage. I believed that no matter what I would always be broken. I had my eyes set on my broken pieces and I tried picking them up on my own. My intent was to show them to God as if to say, “I am broken, help I can’t do it anymore by myself.” But when I used my own will to pick up the pieces I always cut myself and I was at angry at God for letting this happen. When all it took was for me to ask the Holy One to pick up my pieces. And you know what? He already did. On the cross Jesus already won the victory and in Him I am victorious. I just have to trust in that Victory and set my eyes upon Him.
That’s what true trust is to me. It’s saying I am too weak and I put my trust in you and everything is in your hands. It’s denying ourselves and giving Him true control. It’s living for His will and it’s tuning into His will. But trust is a daily thing. Our salvation is a done deal, but Christianity is a journey and a relationship that grows. Denying ourselves everyday and living in humility isn’t always easy. In fact it can be a struggle. But trust is like a clay. At first, the clay isn’t very malleable. It takes effort to get it to the point where something beautiful can be created. There may be parts that take more time to knead through. There might be mountain high or valley low moments, but the greatest news of all is that it is finished. God sent His son so we could have a relationship with Him filled with trust and love.
When I tried to think who had trust in God in the Bible I thought of David. Can you imagine taking stones as your weapon against a giant? If David could not kill Goliath he would put make God’s people into slaves. Talk about pressure. But David had faith in the God who provided. David had trust that the stone would hit the right spot on Goliath’s forehead. I mean David had to really believe. He had to face looking at this literal giant with armor and weapons of splendor and just think well sucks for you because I have the Great I AM on my side. There is no one more worthy for our commitment and trust than our Savior is. His faithfulness endures forever.
If you managed to get through that wow good job and this is just rambling me.
I am so happy.
I don’t know if it’s the school that I love or if it’s the fact that I’m living in freedom or the combination of both. I already am dreading leaving. I don’t want to leave ever. I tried to think about starting my life back up again in the States, but I can’t. I love it here. Something about these people and I just click.
I have never been happier in my life. And despite feeling stressed about Physics and Pre-Cal that stuff doesn’t overwhelm me in the way it used to. I mean by no means do I not stress, but this stuff is the physical stuff. I have a physical piece of homework I need to finish. But before that assignment would affect me emotionally. Every ordinary life hiccup became a tidal wave that I couldn’t handle. And then when I found myself on the ground I had to get up… but with broken legs. My own logic took me to the idea that if I want to get back up I need my legs to be healed. I was so entrapped by the thought of being healed I forgot that first I just needed to stretch out my hands and surrender trying to get up on my own will. The first time I truly just searched to encounter God was when I was restored. Coincidence? Of course not. I thought I was seeking God during my battle with depression and suicide. But I was just seeking being okay. I didn’t first seek the Kingdom of God. My eyes were never fixated on Him. I was completely self-absorbed and I was in my own world slaved to the prison I built. I was only looking at what was broken and yelling at God, “Look I’m broken help me”, but He was waiting for me to just look at Him.
I am not an extremely punctual person, but if I had a job interview you bet I would be there on time. But the thing is I let God wait. I stood up God? The creator of the Universe waited for me. In Watchman Nee’s book, Let us Pray he discusses the will of God and praying for the will to be done as it is in Heaven. God waits for us to pray and obey. Humans limit God. I limit God. God’s will is the only perfect plan. And I would just like to say He never planned for you to be depressed or an alcoholic or in bondage. We were created in His image and in the beginning you were never destined for bondage. It's a lie of the enemy for anyone to believe that they were made with a defect. I believed that for a very long time. But the truth sets us free. And man this freedom that God gives is sheer bliss.
I feel so blessed to serve a God who calls us to be pure and whole. His Grace is so sufficient and this is just me.
So I am at McDonalds eating french fries and writing this post. Two weeks of school have passed and I have been in Japan for three months. Last night I talked to my mom about school and after wards it just kind of hit me how easy it was to talk to her. As much as my sister and I make fun of my mom that she doesn’t listen and the words, “Mommy listen!!!” and “I’m listening” have been said countless times at our household she does listen. I talked about my day and when God came He just did. It isn’t that my grandmother doesn’t listen, but it is just different.
In English, we were given an assignment to tell a story about a “water-shed moment”, something that has impacted us and has brought us to where we are. The teacher elaborated on different type of possible stories and you know what every explanation led my thoughts to? My Restoration Story, the story that I have been freely writing about here on this blog. I am not ashamed of who I was. I used to be, but that’s the thing about the blood of Jesus. He washes away those bondages when we surrender. So my hesitation with sharing my struggle of depression and suicide rooted at the fact that some people will always do the “I am so sorry you had to go through that..” thing. I mean yes it was terrible, but notice the was. In every physical aspect, I feel alone here. I don’t have my support system. I can’t always express myself. I do get overwhelmed and I miss my family. If I was still depressed here in Japan I would be the easiest target for the devil. Although, I do think most of the people reading this are aware that there is nothing to be “sorry” about or to feel “awh, poor thing”, but I just wanted to say have a little more faith in His power. Don’t you see what He did in my life is incredible? He rescued me for His glory. So instead of feeling bad for me, Rejoice the Lord! My depression will never come back and yes I used the forbidden never because with the Creator of the Universe always and never can be backed up by Truth. So I didn’t want to share in front of people that might focus on the past more than the freedom. But I also didn’t really want to share my restoration in a devotion with my family and that was crucial to my freedom. So I decided to pray.
I felt peace into deciding that I would choose a different time to share my story. Instead I chose to share a story I have been wanting to document on this blog. I am a junior and when I started High School I was faced with a lot of questions I had no answers to. I honestly think there is some Adult Rule Book 101 that says once a teenager is in High School you should pester them with question about their future. What do you want to do? Do you know your major? Do you have any colleges you’re thinking about? I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a mother. I could spend hours by myself playing with my stuffed animals who played the part of baby and I the mother. And all in all I still want to be a mother and play the part of the house-wife. I am a walking feminists worst nightmare. But about a year and a half ago (possibly more I actually am not sure) I met three little girls who have become unforgettable in my life. These girls were rescued from the foster care system and I had the honor to spend time with them. I found myself heart broken. I didn’t see vibrant little girls that loved effortlessly. I saw girls that had been hurt and were forced to be mature and cautious. Two of the girls were two and one was just 7 months old. Despite all their pain and circumstance with a little effort to build trust these girls showed love and innocence that should have come first nature to them. Children should be brought into this world cherished and loved. They need someone to tell them that they have a purpose and they are fearfully and wonderfully made. These girls were sweet and bright and the system failed them. They were sent to back to a family member and back to the same environment
that had hurt them so. I lost hope in this system that was supposed to give a voice to the voiceless to stand up for the innocent. I was angry and frustrated. Who was really going to stand up and represent the voice of the innocent that gets so easily lost in the stacks of laws and regulations that don’t seem to do what’s in the best interest for the child. So who? It is so blatantly obvious that it seems to pass us. The Church should. (I heard another lady speak on this issue and she brought this point to me.) The church has to stand for the voiceless. Only we know truth and have a God who has the power to break bondages and bring restoration to families. So it is with this that I have become sure of my passion as well as my purpose. I want to give a voice to the voiceless but I want to do so with the Holy name of Jesus by my side. As I am here in Japan and I see the brokenness of families I so desperately want to do something. There are still many things I don’t know. I don’t know what to major or where I will work. But I know one thing. God’s will will be done. And my only prayer can be is to be still and tune into His voice so I would know His will.
God is always good and this is just me.
