Moving On

Just so you guys know I am switching over to Wordpress!  Blogger has been great but I definitely prefer wordpress and what it offers.  My new blog is http://tashasjourney.wordpress.com/ 

Please come check it out! I even imported my posts from this blog into the new one so it's similar to this one.  

Thanks for all of your support and love.  

Less of Me, More of You

If I truly lived by those famous words, God could really use me.  My deepest desire is to live joyfully in suffering with my King.  That empathy would only come from His heart rather than mine.  My human emotions and views can only harm those I desire to help the most.  When I see brokenness I want to comfort and repair but what if there is deeper restoration that is coming from that broken heart, what if the Holy Spirit is moving and making them uncomfortable and I see it as an opportunity to jump in and save them from their pain?  As humans, our view of love is limited and generally fuzzy but, if we lived in God's love Holy Spirit could move more freely and we could see further healing of each others souls rather than the temporary patchwork fix that our consoling words bring.  We do not understand God's movings unless we are moving with Him and let His fragrance saturate our being.  I want the aroma of Christ to permeate every room I enter and the stench of my rotting heart to fade.

A Gift I Would Never Trade

There are things about that night that still seem like yesterday, feelings that still haunt my mind.  The thing that haunts me the most is the anxiety that preceded it all.  Unexplained fear welled up just like unwept tears, never expressing itself but still clearly there.  Something made me embrace that night and love every moment I had with those dear friends, drinking coffee and playing yahtzee (we yelled entirely too loud in that peaceful little coffeeshop).  Knowing that life changed so drastically after that night, if I could go back I would shout even louder and care even deeper.

The details that slip my mind are the ones I can't dare to dig up, whether it from suppressed memory or unconscious state of mind, they stay locked in a box far from reach.  How far away the shiny metal frame was or what my thoughts were before I stepped on the gas and pulled out on the road...those memories are gone, and I can't say that they are even important.  They are just minor stones leading to something that would change my life forever.  

Coming out of an unconscious stupor I became fully aware of the spot light, loud machinery,  and red goo flowing into my eyes.  These are not comforting surroundings.  But so clearly I remember those voices that attempted to sooth my fear and the hands that kept me safe.  In and out of a clear mind I asked for my Bible, phone, and Mom.  Unable to see or grasp any of them I finally laid on the gurney too confused to be comforted.  As I flew from the cafe to that Emergency Room I remember 2 very vivid thoughts...1. "get this damn oxygen mask off my face."  And 2. "God, I need you right now."  As they transported me from the life flight, to the elevator, to the room, and to the new bed I had so many thoughts swirling around my head.  Mostly I was just in a lot of pain but I remember this deep peace coming over me and knowing that I would be ok, that no matter what happened I was in my Father's arms.  As this happened I started to realize what was really going on, the frantic confusion was clearing up.  Between the 20 doctors and nurses surrounding me and the police officer trying to get my statement (I was delirious, I'm not sure what he thought I could say at that point) I should have been in sensory overload but my thought process went to where most teenage girls would go...what a prom, it's only a month away! The nurses checking my vitals talked to me about my dress and what I wanted to wear and we joked about not looking too good with an open wound for a forehead. 

I don't remember much about the tests and doctors from that point on but that's probably because of all the dear friends and close relatives standing by my side.  With 15 or 20 people in my ER we were truly unsure of what the outcome of that night would be.  So there they stood, holding hands, some in tears, praying for my weak body to hold on.  Simultaneously, in a little cafe miles away, stood a room full of people holding hands praying for God's peace and healing to fall on me.  It's amazing the turn this story takes at this point.  I don't actually remember anything after the prayer or my nurse standing in that circle but the story my dear ones tell blows me away.  The restoration within relationships, a switch in direction of lives, and a miracle that I will always tell of are the real stories of that night.  I am blessed to be alive, I've been healed as proof of the power of my God.  

To never take life for granted is the greatest gift I was given that night and though I have to be reminded often, it's always there...a deep desire to love and live life in complete abandonment.  

I still can't believe 5 years have gone by so fast yet seem like a lifetime away.  Today I am recommitting to living life in celebration, knowing that even the hardest of times will result in a deeper understanding of love.  I wouldn't trade the pain I had that night for anything, the results and joy that I've received since then are irreplaceable.  

A Plug for Don

Don Miller always speaks so clearly and fluidly.  Here is his blog http://donmilleris.com/
I'm too tired to write my thoughts on his post from today but I encourage you to read it.  It's definitely worth it.

Radical Faith: For Everyone or Just a Few?

On our roadtrip from Illinois to Ohio Candice read one of Brennan Manning's books out loud. With only the intro and Chapter 1 down, I'm already thirsty for more of this book.  It's called The Signature of Jesus and it has me thinking on so many things right now.  Which means this post is going to be a bit of a mess as I am still processing so much.

First of all, I MUST read more.  I used to read a lot and recently have fallen off the book path.  Today just reminded me that there is so much to learn and grow from inside the pages of a good book.

A point Brennan brings up in the intro is that not everyone is made with radical faith.  That giving up our lives to follow Christ is not a desire that each person is made with.  While my first reaction is to claim that ridiculous, I'm seeing that he is definitely on to something.  In YWAM we meet all these people who are not just willing, but DESIRING, a reckless and dangerous life, it's our "norm," so to speak.  In my mind, that is everyone's calling...set apart your life by giving up everything you have to follow Christ.  But is that really how it works?   What about the accountants, waitresses, stay at home moms who all follow God's leading and share God's love with everyone around them through their actions in every day life?  Brennan says that a life of radical faith is a gift from God and that not everyone gets the same gift.  I agree with him to an extent.  Though, I would say it takes radical faith to live a holy (set apart) life no matter what your passions and desires are.

The thought that a radical lifestyle is a gift really puts a new spin on things in my mind.  All the comparing we tend to do is really thrown out the window.  We always get so excited about the people living in Africa taking care of the sick, hurting, and impoverished and then kindly say at the end, "the people at home have a great mission field too..."  just so we don't step on any toes.  But why try to make people comfortable?  Get them uncomfortable!  Tell them that right where they are is a needy place and it's their calling to do something about it!  Lay down all the fears, desires, worries, and everything else that we use as an excuse and there you have a radical life.  Let's get excited about every single person that is daring to follow God's heart!  I want people to get excited about who they are in Christ and the gifts and desires they've been made with!

This brings me to the point I've been thinking about the most.  Am I made for a radical lifestyle?  There's much need for a reassessment here.  For quite a few years now I've desired nothing more than to be in the jungle or travel to the roughest parts of the world to share the love of Christ with everyone I meet.  But have I done that?  I've taken steps that I thought would take me there but what is my real gift here?  I want it to be a radical lifestyle...but could it be the life of a writer?  Writing of all the things God is doing in my heart and around me?  Writing of great adventures that I'm going to take?  Could it be the life of a mother?  The life of a student? A teacher?  Oh there are so many possibilities...whatever lifestyle it is I know one thing, I am dedicated to a radical faith.  Without reliance on God I will fail, fall, stumble, drift, etc. (you get the picture).  My heart is aching to rely so fully on my God and take a leap of faith somewhere...relationship, occupation, school...I can just feel the stirring of something new in my spirit.  My prayer right now is that I would be lovingly obedient to God in the small things so that when the big things come around, I am ready and willing!  (Candice reminded me of that today...what a blessing it is to have her here to talk about life with.)

We're just two "radical" girls longing after His heart.

Forever Young, Forever Our Own

Somewhere along the line, we decided it's too hard to grow up.

So we stopped.

We're taking a break from the natural time line of our lives.

We're Peter Pan.

Some where along the line, we decided caring for ourselves was easier than caring for someone else. 

So we stayed selfish. 

And we're still here, waiting for good to come to us.  

Waiting for a change in the world.  

Why do we think our generation is any different than the generations before us?  

Change happens with action.  

Love happens with an open heart.  

Nothing happens when all we see is ourselves in this world.

My heart is aching to be selfless.  To see selflessness in a tired generation. 

In a generation that can see what's wrong but who hesitates to do anything about it.  

Hold on to Hope, Love

To hope is to risk. A risk of being let down.  A risk of getting hurt.  I'm not sure where hope went, what door it snuck out but it's hardly ever found.  Far off glimpses and a chance for sweet connection but nothing that lasts, nothing to make it mine.  Selfish ambitions and empty accusations keep it at a distance, just far enough to keep wounds open and hearts broken.  Babies in lost situations and parents with blank faces. Fears replace the empty spaces.  Nothing to live for, nothing to try for.  Failed attempts and endless paths.  Open arms turned to suffocating traps.  What once was brilliance is lack-luster fate.  But with only one way to go, one place to run, hold on to hope, Love.  It brought you here and it is your way out.  Take the risk, Love, hold on to hope, Love.