Randomocity from Reading Journals

Heart Friend = K

Scared of leaving all I ever knew and now in returning something is off.  I don't quite fit anymore than I didn't quite fit in South Korea.  Even though, my heart found a home there.

Fears that I will screw something up irreparably meet the word that He has given me so much honor.

I go all in.  Right now...I'm not plugged into much of anything.  Which is beautiful to find not much being asked of me, but with it comes bouts of loneliness.  I need community but I don't really know what I need from community right now, nor do I know what I can give.

Don't shrink back.  A prophetic dream that I would be seen as a traitor and an agent of death...bringing the Kingdom to the dark places.

No casting stones.  No telling someone how their story is supposed to go.

A seeming oxymoron:  The tender warrior.  The one who is the fiercest because they are first the softest.

Stop filling the needed silence with unknowing answers.  When others can't see the rationality, I seek to fill the gaps of understanding even when I'm not supposed to at all.

The reoccurring thought that I will go to the least, the broken, the lost, the sick, the poor.

I want to be a wife and a mom but I need a man with calling who can also carry the weight of my calling too.

The guitar that I asked God for and was given without any explanation.

His bigger story is the redemption and adoption of humanity, perfect communion once again.  And He is calling me into that as a warrior.  Satan tried his best to take me out.  He terrorized me.  I became the fearful, angry child.  There was no fight in me.  The covering I needed was absent in its fullness.  No armor, so I built up my own.  And I stayed in the fortress of my own making.  Reclusive, because invisibility seemed to be the only refuge I had from the outside beat down I was getting.  What drove me even crazier was that the shame and oppression on my person was even heavier.  He has drawn and is drawing me out.  I am to be a warrior.  Special forces.  One with profound honor given that is fiercely undeserved but given out of truely unconditional love.  So faithful, so tender is the fierce love of Jesus.  Jesus the judge.

Death?

Death where is your sting?  Grave where is your victory?

My heart aches right now.  I process the revelation that death brought into the world by the Fall weighs heavy in my personal life.  These are not words I want to be writing.  They are thoughts I'd rather not be contemplating.  Yet, I go there.

I stare down darkness.  

As I've thought about the whole situation, I'm broken and yet I'm certain that death is not defeat.

Oh, how Satan has convinced us that if a Christian dies of something so evil as cancer that God cannot be good or powerful enough, or the believer didn't have enough faith to be healed.

LIES!!

An understanding of the resurrection is a clue:

Jesus died but He didn't stay dead.  He defeated death and as followers we are joined to His resurrection.

Satan only thinks he wins when a Christian dies.  Satan cannot steal eternity, because Jesus holds the keys, the victory.

For all my days, for the days of beloved ones, there is a weightiness about the loss of life, but not fear, not hopelessness.

Instead there is life; Abundant life!  Life with Abba!

Following Jesus Looks Like...

Right now following Jesus:

Looks like loving other people's children.  Playing games, giving hugs, cooking food, teaching responsibility, and somehow showing what it looks like to love Jesus.

Looks like staring down darkness and refusing to back away, and doing it afraid.

Looks like laying down walls and picking up armor.

Looks like listening and only speaking when the words are words of life.

Looks like being settled in being unsettled.

Looks like reconnecting.

Looks like letting myself be shown true, unrepayable hospitality.

Looks like less Bible study, and more talking with the Holy Spirit.

Looks like more "being" and less "doing."


Sure following Jesus has looked like this in other seasons of life, but it has also looked much different.  That's the thing about following Jesus, everyone isn't on the same prescribed path, and a path doesn't look the same all the way along.  What following Jesus looks like for you may look sort of similar but also very different from me.  Even so, I'm with the body of Christ ready to cheer them on.

Jesus says, "Follow me."

I ask, "What does that look like?"

And he says, "Follow me."

Forgiveness In the Moment

I've never met Kim Jong Il, but I've heard plenty about him.  I've heard the second and third hand stories of what is going on under his leadership in North Korea.  Some accounts coming from South Korean friends who have met North Korean refugees.  I've seen some of the propaganda coming out that portrays the dictator as a benevolent father to his people, while reports are that North Korea is facing crippling famine.

And I have scoffed.  I've called the man insane, crazy and even a freak.

I can understand why the government of South Korea, where I lived for a year, has tried to give aid but has had to pull back due to the constant tensions and threats of war.

No lie, I could call Kim Jong Il the modern day Hitler, except he rules a dirt poor country.

I'd like to believe that the dictator has softened with age and with illness.  But it's hard to believe when I sat as air raid practice sirens still sound in South Korea, when he refuses to disband nuclear ambitions which would open the doors for desperately needed food to enter his country.

And here I sit with the phrase: NEVER BEYOND.

Never beyond.  No limit on grace.  To forgive even when no repentance is in sight.  To forgive a man.

He's a man.   

Crippled by sin and convinced by the devil that he can some how keep his regime together, and slowly dying like every other man.

I sit, humbled, drawing slow breaths as I dialogue with Jesus:  "You formed him, you died for him.  Same as every other man.  Same as me."

May that goodness that drew me out of the darkness and into repentance, draw the man, Kim Jong Il.  Give grace because no one is ever beyond.  Even if grace is mocked.

The craziest thing is when forgiveness meets the offense, in the moment.

Like Jesus speaking from the cross,  "Forgive them, for they know not what they are doing."

Everyone is...

It's unsettling.

But here I'm finding the deepest trust and the sweetest touch.

The inordinate shame lifting as I let myself feel the pain of what was.

Everyone is broken.

Me...My friends...My family...My enemies.

As much as I could settle into blame and bitterness, I'd also agree to settle into death and a life as something less than being fully me.

I don't want to sacrifice destiny and joy for what turns out to be an illusion of a less painful road.  It's an illusion because that road doesn't exist.

Remember...Everyone is broken.

I have lived the illusion.  I've hidden behind religion and all the rational answers I could come up with.  My answers could not push away the darkness. The brokenness has remained, and I did such a job hiding myself so that I'm not sure what I need. The true double-edged sword of not owning up to the fact that indeed:

Everyone is broken.


I've picked up my life and moved back to the other side of the globe.  I've left behind beautiful people that I love.  I pray for the chance to return, but for now I'm settling in to being unsettled.  Living out of a suitcase, depending on the kindness of those I returned to, as I have no peace about signing a lease.

Instead, I'm taking time to just be.  Let whatever God needs to do wash over me.  It's been promised that it will be a season of both darkness and joy.  The courage I need will come.  I want everything God has for me.  I want to be everything He created me to be.

Everyone is broken.

And He makes all things new.

Open Apology

To all the men who I have pushed away:

I'm sorry.  I had no idea how to let you see me without going crazy.  I read too much into what was meant to be friendly conversations and fun adventures.  What's worse is that I have missed out on knowing some really incredible men.  

For those of you who ran into my brick wall; I'm trying to take it down.  Not to let just anyone walk all over me, but so that you can see me, and I can see you.

This is still a learning process for me.  I advise that I may pull back and start throwing a brick or two from my disassembled wall.  Give me time, but don't give up.

They're Coming with Me

I didn't really protect myself from it.  I didn't want to.  And the little weasels burrowed into my heart.

Now the pain is so great...I'm not entirely sure how to go forward and leave them.

Could you forget faces like these?

I can't.  Especially with the stories behind each face.

While some of them are celebrating my departure (I'm still a teacher after all) many have given me a sad or surprised reaction when they understand that I am leaving soon.

The impressions they have left on me are permanent.  Even writing this, I'm choked up.  They've gotten to me.  And I wouldn't ever change it.  I may leave Korea but because of these kids, Korea will never leave me.