I am now in an official small group with 5 lovely ladies (and a wonderful leader) from Cru. Wednesday night was our first meeting and we just talked about what we wanted out of the time we spent together and threw out some potentials for a book in Scripture to study. When it was my turn to say what I wanted out of the group, I took a deep breath because it seemed my first chance, or I guess test, was emerging. When the breath escaped, so did an honest answer… and I was surprised (and excited) to hear it come from my own mouth. I told them the truth: that firstly, I wanted community, but also that in that, I wanted them to challenge me-- to be honest, to share, to be vulnerable. I felt good about the group, and I know with confidence that God is going to bless it, because every girl there was present due to the commonality that she wanted to grow deeper in her relationship with her Father.
It is a strange thought, though… that I’ll be growing with a new community. I was never even honest with my small group at E-Free the way I wanted to be.
I think my entire high school career was accumulating to the person I’ve become; with each new trial, I retreated further and further; with each new triumph, I felt less and less because I learned to stop feeling… because I was afraid. Each new person I trusted become fewer and more far between, until I just stopped trying altogether.
I have a friend. He is a brilliant kid (doesn’t know it, but he really is), yet he’s surprisingly good at stupid for being so smart. He settles a lot for empty fun and sorry excuses. He has this essence about him though, this mystery I’m still unraveling. When you catch him under the right light, you can see his spirit. I see it stretching upward. And while we are SO different, we have that in common. I think our souls are both trying to get closer to Jesus. I don’t know if he believes that though; wish he did. Wish I knew.
Sometimes I stop. In the middle of everything. And just look.
I used to see how the world was so ugly, but I think I focused on that so much that I allowed my eyes to be drawn from the contrasting beauty of His work in it. My friend asked me how I deal, how – in the ugly, in the hurt – I find ways to still smile as big as I do, laugh as often as I can. I told him the truth: I don’t deal. I hurt a lot. But that when I do find joy, I find it in God, in His unfailing ability to restore. I suck at trusting (and I admit that to him), but I know full well the peace that comes from trusting Him above myself.
The world is not pretty, by any means. It is a fallen mass, an empty seed of disdain; it is so far from the truth that the Son of God was put to death to begin its restoration process. And the truth in that… is an exceptional beauty.
…And after I’ve cried until my lungs hurt
From taking heaving breaths,
I will see true beauty
As most of the world has not seen before.
After every thread of my life has been unraveled,
I will see - - LIFE.
I will see it for
what it is;
At its most simple state.
And therefore,
seeing a wonder occur
As somehow it is rethreaded
Into an even more intricate,
And complex
and beautiful pattern.
Furthermore, at times like this,
A high statute that
allows me to feel again,
I will be able to remember.
I will search my heart
For the scars to remind me
That the past has emerged to
the present time;
I have lived.
And I will see the expression
of His Love for me as
He enables me
To be, today; to feel, today; to love, today.
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