Chill

Answers. I’ve been frantically searching for them since the last time I blogged.

Where should I live? What church should I attend? What should I do with my life? Is it possible to find a Midwesternish man in California…?

Some answers came.

But I think deep down, my biggest question was, “God, what on earth am I even here for?”

This fall was a difficult season. Not because I was super busy, but because I wasn't.

God led me to join a new church so I stepped away from college ministry and became a new girl for the first time after being part of the same Berkeley fellowship since Fall 2005.

My best friend from high school, Mila, moved to San Diego at the end of August. She had moved from Boston to SF ~1.5 years prior, and it had been such a sweet time with her in the Bay Area.  Not only had our friendship grown so much deeper as we suffered through the miserable 20s together, but she had slowly opened up to the idea that God was crazy about her. We started going to church together this summer, and in my mind, things were really good.

And then, God moved her away.

Basically, when September hit, the two most important “people” in the Bay Area were no longer part of my everyday routine. I trusted that God was doing what was best, but I felt absolutely useless.

There were lonely weeks. There were many days where I felt completely worthless. A nobody. I tried to come up with different solutions. For awhile, I started looking into dentisty. Teaching. Seminary. 

I was super ready to take action and follow some amazing life calling, but in my time with Jesus, He strangely kept calling me to just “chill” an continue living my present life faithfully.

I’m terrible at “chilling.” If I have down time, I will put on my running shoes and run for 2 hours. That is my idea of chilling- going somewhere.

No, God! USE ME.

NOW.

A couple Fridays ago, I met up with a close college friend of mine and then with the pastor and his wife for a “spiritual gift” assessment. I told them that it had been a season of nothingness, and I wanted answers, but wasn’t getting any. It was killing me.

Strangely, all of them told me the same thing that God’s been telling me all season long. 

“Chill. Just enjoy God’s love. You’re in a really good place.”

Because when I am weak, He is strong.

It’s a difficult concept for me to grasp. I’m not going to lie. They told me these comforting words, and I started crying in response. Tears of frustration and relief. I think the two can co-exist. I’m a girl. Tehehe.

Frustration because I have a deep fear of a life wasted. Relief because it was clearly not in my control and I worship a God so much bigger than my fears.

In today’s society, a lot people live for status. I’m guilty of it too. My shallow self itches to have some facebook status/profile to prove that I’m of worth. Honestly, I think these past six months, heaaack, all my life, I wanted to constantly have some status of moving forward, but God told me to chill. My worst nightmare.

But I love how my pastor's wife put it so bluntly to me that evening.

"God doesn't need you."

I really needed to hear that.

However meaningless I thought these months have been, this season of zero-status have renewed this gospel-thirsty heart once again. I forgot that God doesn't work via Instagram. I wanted instant gratification, but Christ's image in my heart would only be established in the darkrooms of life. This quiet season has been in His love and wisdom. Christmas break was a humbling dose of God's Truth.

 “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” Isaiah 53:2-3

In my brokenness, He understands. The life I have right now is because of His goodness.

This is my God.

Wednesday Flowers Bring Teary Showers

It was a typical Wednesday morning. Coffee brewed, quiet time done, hair straight, iPod in pocket, ready to head off to work. Already running late, I grabbed my lunch and swung open the front door.  Before my right foot could step out the door, my path was cut off by a single, bright orange daisy on the doorstep.

“Ooooh, how cheesy!! Probably from one of the roommates’ boyfriends,” was my first thought.

I picked up the flower, wrapped nicely in plastic wrap and a matching ribbon. Inserted by the stem was a small white paper that read,“Vicky—rooting for you. Love, ICA.”

“What the hell. It’s for me?”

After an awkward pause (yes, I have awkward moments when I'm alone), my eyes flooded with tears. “Stupid flower. Why am I crying?!”

I walked to my car with the flower and kept crying. I started the engine and drove down Shattuck Ave. Each traffic light was blurred as the tears kept filling my eyes. Whenever I was stopped, I had to wipe my face with my fingers and take a huge breath. And then I’d start tearing up again. All the way to work…

I couldn’t believe it. Flowers make me cry!?! A FLOWER?! What was wrong with me?

Looking back on that morning, I think the flower was this:

“Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you,

And therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you.” Isaiah 30:18

God was waiting to shower me with grace. He had to wait for the perfect time, a time when my heart was ready to receive it.

About a month ago, it was Easter weekend 2013. I was in the car with my parents, driving back up to the Bay Area from SLO. In silence, I started to think about the recent events. Just two days prior, I had gotten rejected by schools 15 and 16 of 17 medical schools. Four days prior, I found myself sobbing in front of the toilet as I threw up a bottle of wine because I was so heartbroken over my past with guys.  In silence, I started to plan how I would live my life apart from God. I was done following Jesus.

My mom caught a glimpse of my dark countenance through the sideview mirror.

“Why are you so sad?”

Tears started again. I remained silent.

5 minutes later, my dad asked me again, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to follow God anymore. It’s too hard.”

Here I was, telling my dad, that I didn’t want to follow God anymore. This is the dad who told me before that the only thing he ever wanted for his daughter was for me to know God.

My dad jokingly started, “Hey, look at Jesus! He went to the cross. And Paul, he went to jail. And all the disciples! Look at how they died.”

In utter despair, I started to sob even more.  I angrily replied, “That’s because they were convinced that God actually loved them.”

For the past eight years, life has not gone according to my little agenda. And being the ESTJ perfectionist that I am, it has killed me. Medical school was the last thing in my long list of life plans that I had made for myself before coming to college, and that dream had slowly died this past year. Academics, music, physical shape, dating life, graduate school…all didn’t go according to plan, and God had allowed my identity in these things to slowly die.

It’s weird though, as much as I thought that I was done with God that evening in the car with my parents, Jesus was totally fighting for me. As it hit me that my plans were totally dead and I had nothing left, the Spirit gave me these words:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” John 12:24-25

As that verse came to my heart, the sound of rain slowly calmed my anger. Even though I didn’t even have the desire to obey God anymore, His Word still burned in my soul. Tears continued to stroll down my eyes as I realized…

 God was never going to let me go.

On the morning of Easter, I went to church alone in the city. I bet the dude sitting next to me thought I was crazy because I was crying through the entire message. But it was a beautiful morning, a beautiful Easter message.

God hadn’t died for me just to make me a better person. Jesus wasn’t my Savior because I had a great plan for my life.

Jesus came to make my dead self alive.

And so, this is where I was when that flower came.

A couple weeks later, medical school number 17 of 17 gave me the final no. By His grace, I didn’t cry a river. It’s going to be okay.

A day later after the final rejection, Moon secretly gave me a flower and put it in my room. It hadn’t budded yet, so I wasn’t sure what the flower would look like. A couple days later, the flower hadn’t opened, but instead the stem had wilted in my beer bottle vase. I ran out of my room and showed Moon the wilted flower in giggles.

We took a chopstick and used a rubber band to secure the wilted flower upright. So ghetto! At least we’d try to save it.

“The florist said it would open!”

“Hahahahhahaha, it’s okay. We’ll see…”

This morning, I was getting ready for work again, and I caught a glimpse of the unbudded, wilted flower, and OH GLORY GLORY. It was open. The explosion of color seemed to yell, “Boo yea! I’m alive!”

My heart lept with joy. It was so weird. I never knew flowers could bring so much emotion.

I like this flower a lot though, because the SUPER ghetto chopstick that we used to hold up that flower is so similar to what I’ve experienced this past month. Honestly, my outlook on life had become quite colorless. My mood had wilted, I didn’t think there was much to hope for.

But it was people like Moon, the small group girls, my church family, my sister and parents, who propped me back up, who turned me to Jesus, who caused my heart to bloom with worship once again.

It’s hard to die to ourselves. I didn’t choose it for myself, but God allowed it so that I would live. I think we’ll end up at one point thinking that we have lost everything. I certainly thought I did, but the whole time, He chose to be mindful of me.

It was in losing His Son that God gained the salvation of the world. He does things for greater glory, deeper purpose. Difficult times are in His love, and it is His crazy love has led me thus far. I have a lot to be grateful for. I deserve hell, yet He gave me life.

This is my God.

Work

Little Victories

I sent an email to the brewery begging them to allow three more out-of-staters to join their already booked tour...woot woot! I'm more excited about this than I am about Vail.