Visitor's Day

I was exhausted at the end of this Saturday.
I was wiped.
I crawled to bed.
It was the best kind of tired.
The tired of hanging out with 25 of your favorite people in the place that you love.
That day was the best I had spent, the most giving day.
The day I understood what it meant to be loved quite tangibly.
I questioned whether you who said you were coming would.
I doubted because I hadn't been reassured.
And lo and behold, there were the people I so eagerly wanted to see.
They had not reassured me because they were coming.
I just didn't know that.
And yes, learning to trust them and the other 23 folks that came was like breathing deeply after holding my breath for a long time.
You see, I question my friendships a lot. Especially now.
Now when I am not fully immersed in our UCLA InterVarsity fellowship.
And so having promises kept is a really big deal for me.
Promises spoken matter of factly at the end of conversation.
Promises where friends understand what FUI has meant to me, and why it was so important to have visitors come and support me in the place where God continues to work so powerfully.
(There'll probably be more on this later.)

Thank you friends, for loving me.

Smoke Signals

That Friday night after watching "Smoke Signals" I cried. I cried a lot.
I cried more than I had all Spring quarter, I think.
The themes of the movie are: poverty, adventure and the loss of a father (death and emotional detachment). As soon as Todd spoke the themes, I was already groaning.
I knew God was going to do something in me that night.

As I watched the movie, I felt wounds being uncovered to be aired out and dressed again. Wounds that I had avoided for far too long.
The question by Victor in the movie, "Did my Dad ever talk about me?"
It floored me.

I've asked that question to myself so many times. I have wondered if Dad ever thought about me, wondered what I was up to. If he ever asked about me.
I wonder that still.
I wonder if he thinks of me, if he cares what's happened to me.

And then I started to cry.

I cried 'cause I am frustrated with myself that I still wonder.
That I still hope that he's thought of me now and again.
I still cry on occassion 'cause I wish he did.
I cry 'cause I wish I was further on the journey towards healing.
The part where I didn't need my Dad.
And if you're wondering if there's any resolution, the answer is not really.

I have a lot of feelings that feel as if they'll never go away, but I also hold onto the hope of two pieces of Scripture that have been given to me.

"You, my Daughter, are called to be free" (Galatians 5:13). I know that freedom is near, that the journey is meant to be one that I walk and sometimes run, but I always have my Papa right there with me.

"Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields her all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders" (Deuteronomy 33:12). And I know that in the midst of the chaos and madness and frustration, I have a steady place to rest my head, to sleep in the arms of my Papa.

lovable.

i still have a difficult time receiving love. not being open when friends and family want to serve me, learning the hard way that they're doing it because they love me.


this is an interesting reality to live in.
living in the constant, want, need to be loved, yet not knowing how to receive that when it is shown to me.
the words, "i'm not going anywhere" are powerful.
too often not spoken, my heart often questioning how long friendships will last and why.
what do i have to offer you?

when L and P called me and said, we want to get you food, my first thought was, "why?"
my heart doubted the goodness of a free delivered meal.
(it was delicious too.)
i love these two dearly, i know their hearts, yet i doubted.

how many times have i doubted You?
i know Your heart, i know that you love me, yet when perfect and good things are presented to me,
i doubt.
i believe you will still give me a stone instead of bread, that my heart will continue to be broken time and time again.

"you are lovable. i guess you've questioned that before."
as i resisted hug after hug from a new friend made in St. Louis, these words were spoken to me.
i stopped.
yes, i question that just about every day.
the scars of the men in my life who didn't see me as lovable haven't faded.
i don't see lovable when i look in the mirror, don't feel particularly lovable when i walk down to campus.
yet, there it was.
said to me point blank so i had to hear it.

i often wonder how long it will take for my heart to see, hear, and taste the goodness of the love You shower upon me every single day through my friends, my family.

most days.

most days i don't consider myself beautiful.
 most days i don't even find myself worthy of being invested in, listened to.
the thoughts in my head swirl, saying that friends are paying attention at any given time due to manners, the fact that we're friends...
i found myself this week, feeling really uncomfortable.
feeling like i was off to the side as everyone else (it seemed) was engaging in conversation with each other, either working on stuff or catching up.
i felt awkward.
like i didn't belong.

yes, i know this isn't the reality.
the reality is that i am loved, valued and sought after because of who i am.
i am loved because of my quirks, dorkiness, and heart that i offer my friends and family.
my community.

it's difficult to see my worth and why i am loved.
the world keeps whispering that i am not good enough and that takes a toll on a soul that is wondering why on earth this community that i love so much would pursue a relationship with me after i leave.

so tonight i struggle with that.
(and pray for a better tomorrow.)