Be Somebody's Blessing

When we first moved to San Diego, I had no friends. Naturally, this is the case for many people upon moving to a new city. Tyler and I had just graduated, gotten married, and joined the Navy(Well, that was Tyler, but if you're a Navy spouse you catch my drift...). Plus, we moved across the country far, far away from our families(Looking back now, I’d say that was the best thing for us…but that’s another post for another day). I felt lonely, I had no job, and Tyler was gone a lot. In fact, a week after we arrived in San Diego he shipped off for two weeks. It was crazy. Now that I’m a little more seasoned in the military lifestyle, I feel thankful that he didn’t deploy right away(as is not uncommon for some military couples). The Lord protected  us from a lot that year. I remember feeling pretty hopeless sometimes because I was unfamiliar with this new lifestyle we had adopted, and it was not at all what I expected(is life ever?!). I was disappointed and discouraged. It didn’t seem fair that Tyler had to be away so often. But then a friend through the Navigators(which, I'm learning, is really such a small world the more people you know!! :) ) introduced me (via Facebook) to her friend--we shall call her B-- who also lived in San Diego with her husband. They were a military couple, and had been married for some time. It was this random, unexpected gift from God. Before she knew little more than my profile picture, and the bits of information our mutual friend had shared, B asked to be my friend. And no, I am not referring to a Facebook friendship. Well, to be honest, she did “add” me, but that’s not the point.  She told me we were friends. We had never met, we had never really had a conversation, and she said, “let’s be friends”. B wanted my friendship. Not because she knew it could benefit her, or because she wanted to up her FB friend count. She just wanted to know me. I was humbled. After a few mini-messaging sessions, we were able to coordinate a rendezvous at a shoebox coffee shop near her house. It was B's favorite, and she was a “usual”(I always wanted to be a “usual”!). So, before she even knew me, she wanted to be my friend, and she was already taking me to her sacred “honey hole”. The people there knew her order, and they seemed to love her. All at once I was adopted into this routine before we had done more than exchange first names. When we met that day, I remember feeling slightly anxious.

                What if she decides we can’t be friends after she meets me? What if I am too much? What if she thinks I am a charity case? What if she sees how pathetic I am?

When I got there, she enthusiastically hugged me, and we ordered coffee. We swapped stories and questions, and soon it seemed like we had been there for hours. We were old friendsinstantly because of our Jesus bond and because she chose, out of the goodness of her heart, to let me into her life. 

                Over the next year, I found myself coming to B for advice, and soon we began praying weekly together. She encouraged me, and challenged me every time we got together. B had been married a little bit longer, and was further along in her walk with Jesus/life as a military spouse. She knew secrets that I didn’t, and she was willing to let me in. She shared her life with me. Together, we wrestled through all of my worries and doubts in that first year of marriage, and together, we prayed for victory over struggles with sin.  B was like my big sister.

                With the chaos of life, we rarely get to spend time together these days. We have jobs and families to prioritize, and we are both heavily involved in our respective ministries. But every once in a while, we find some time to spend together, and it is always precious.

                B was my first and only sincere friend for a while in the beginning, and she didn’t have to be. She took time to meet up with me, and make me feel a little less crazy when I expressed certain concerns or issues. B loved me. And she still does.

                In college all I was exposed to was formal ministry. What I mean is, it was always structured, and discipleship meant meeting weekly to discuss a Bible study that you would go through together. If you were involved in a specific campus ministry, someone was assigned to disciple you. You didn’t have to seek It out, and community was a given. Everything just sort of came to you.  Since real life has happened (life outside of college), I have found that this type of discipleship doesn’t happen as easily or frequently. Relationships happen at coffee shops, the pool and sometimes social gatherings (i.e. Bible study). I used to feel discouraged about this, but then I realized that we, as women, aren’t always meant to do life together with a structured Bible study. Sometimes we are, but more often than not we feel( or at least I do) more loved when someone is taking the time to pursue friendship with us. That is something we highly value, because as life gets busier(especially for mommies, so I’ve heard!!) we have little time for that. So when we get together with someone, when we make the choice to give some of our treasured time away for a few hours, we want to unwind and share life experiences, to talk about what Jesus is teaching us, and eat something sugary.  For me, that’s what B did. And through that relationship, I grew closer to Jesus. I’m not implying that we throw out Bible study altogether (because some of the most valuable times I’ve had with women have been in the Word!) but we should, first and foremost, remember to love and care for each other through relationships. 

                So, this post is for B. Not because she’s awesome, but because God is. And he used her to tackle my crazy, hormonal heart; to help me realize just how good God is, and how lovely authentic friendship can be. Thanks for making me feel His love in a new, refreshing way. Thanks for being my friend. All glory to Him.

Every Broken Piece

The longer I walk around this world, the more I’m realizing that this life has nothing to do with me at all. In fact, I’m just part of someone else’s story. Yes, His story for me is unique and special, but even that isn’t about me. It’s all about Jesus. With that comes the bleak understanding that I am a dirty, selfish, sinful person, completely undeserving of God’s grace. 

                This has been a revelation of sorts for me, because along with it my eyes have been opened. Instead of thinking about my needs and my “woes” (I really have none worthy of sorrow) I see people. All of a sudden, I hear little bits and pieces that attune me to their brokenness.  I’m not saying I’m suddenly this magical mind-reader (because I couldn’t handle that!) but people are actually sharing the sadness of their hearts with me. It's actually quite random. Sometimes it takes me by surprise. I don’t expect for people to be so transparent, especially strangers. In fact, no one expects that in this day and age. But they are and it baffles me. I mean, there's really nothing special about me that they should want to share the deepest parts of their souls. Sometimes I don’t know how to respond. It’s not even like I’m intentionally listening for the sadness.  Like I said before, I’m nothing special. It’s because of Jesus.

                A few summers ago, a very wise woman encouraged me to be more  engaged with people by asking questions. It seems invasive and a bit awkward at first, but if I’ve learned anything from that exercise, it’s that people enjoy sharing the details of their lives. Don’t we all? Sometimes I catch myself giving an entire spiel  before I’ll dare ask about the other person. It’s almost like I need a bright blinking light above my head that shocks me when I hit my talking limit.  I think that’s just the way people are wired. We like to talk about ourselves.

                This morning after my Zumba class (you guys…it’s a dance party workout combo…how can you lose?!), I went to the store to exchange my tap shoes for a smaller size. The lady helping me had a beautiful engagement ring, and I complimented her on it. Her face brightened and she shared that she had been married almost a year, to which I shared that I had almost been married two. We congratulated each other, and the conversation shifted.

                “Do you guys have kids yet?” she asked

                “Not yet, my husband is in the Navy and we’re hoping we can wait until Shore Duty. What about you guys?”

                “We’re trying” her smile faded

                “That’s exciting, right?” I inquired

                “Yes, but we’ve already lost two.

I frowned, “I’m so sorry”

“It gets discouraging when we try and try and nothing happens”

At that point, she changed the topic to my shoes. Clearly, she didn’t want to think about what was or wasn’t happening in her life.

I walked away from the conversation feeling so burdened for that woman. I wanted to fix her problems immediately. So I sat there, and prayed silently for her in my car. She’s been on my mind ever since.

                Ruth Graham has a book entitled, In Every Pew Sits a Broken Heart.  I think we can translate that title to our everyday lives. In every life sits a hole of brokenness. Sometimes the hole isn’t as visible as we might hope, but it’s there nonetheless, and it can only be filled with a Saviour. Jesus came to “bind up the brokenhearted” and “set the captives free” (Isaiah 61). He is the only one who can take every broken piece and bind it perfectly with Gospel healing. The more I mediate on this, the more tangible the charge to love others becomes. We, as believers, can share this bondage-releasing Gospel with people. We just have to ask questions, and listen for the leading of the Holy Spirit. Our eyes must be peeled and our ears open to catch those broken pieces.

Jenna and Jesus

This past Tuesday I had a situation with one of my students. It was probably the worst case I have experienced thus far. We have had problems with her in the past. She just doesn’t want to be at CYT.  I know this because she constantly rolls her eyes, lacks a desire to participate in even the smallest activity, and blatantly tells us. Yesterday was her “breaking point”, I guess. She burst into tears right in the middle of If I Only Had a Brain. My coworker pursued her while I continued rehearsal. This went on for all of 5 minutes, when the girl—let’s call her Jenna(for privacy reasons)—began walking away. At this point, I traded off with Joanna, my coworker, and decided to talk to Jenna myself. Crouched in the corner with tears streaming down her face, she wouldn’t look at me. She just kept talking about how much she hated CYT and that the part she was given is too small. I tried talking through it with her. I took every angle—including the “You have two options…” route. Nothing worked. She hated CYT and she wanted to go home. She told me that her mom wouldn’t allow  her to quit, because she knew she would not get reimbursed. I had been advised[by my boss] to let her sit in the corner while Joanna and I managed the other kiddos. So, I did. A few minutes later she came to me—attitude fully intact—saying that she wanted to play the game, but not to call her mother. As soon as I asked her to return to the corner, she stormed out of the room. That’s right---out of the door, into the open courtyard. Joanna followed while I called her mother. While I talked, she ran(quite fast, I  might add), cried, and told Joanna that she hated us. She spoke angrily through her teeth, and I was afraid she might hurt someone. She finally locked herself in a bathroom stall—for which I think Joanna was grateful since she was so fast. By that point, it was time to end rehearsal. Jenna was thrilled. Joanna later told me that even when she tried to embrace Jenna, she was pushed away with an “I don’t WANT you!”

                Days like these really hurt your heart. Joanna and I had done nothing to make Jenna feel as miserable as she was, yet she still hated us. She wanted nothing to do with us, even though we tried to make her feel as loved and accepted as all of the other kids.

                Last night as I mulled over the day’s events, I was reminded of Eph. 2:3-5:

 All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following it’s desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath. But because of his great love for us God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in our transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved!

Like Jenna, we ran away from God, in complete hatred and rejection—as objects of wrath. When he pursued us, we ran faster. When he embraced us, we pushed him away. And when we gritted our teeth  in anger, hoping we could make him go away forever, he loved us to the point of death on a cross. He is our Relentless Redeemer.

When he saw how completely hopeless we were, and how directly we opposed him, he didn’t stop loving us. He didn’t give up. Instead, he was filled with compassion. He saw the potential we could be through his blood—through his salvation---and he loved us more.

I’m not sure what is going on in Jenna’s life. Thinking about her makes my heart heavy. I can’t help but wonder if her deliberate opposition and anger came from a dire need to have a place; to feel wanted. She just might not have known how to say that to us. 

Praying I can be more attentive to this inner desire, and less frustrated with how it might be expressed.

Glitter

Loving people has been difficult lately. Don't ask me why. Maybe its because I'm so distracted by work...or maybe its because I'm selfish(I'd go with the latter excuse). I am such a sinner. Everyday my loathing of this sin darkens. Sin really is detestable. We taught 19 workshops in Reno last week. That's roughly 4 a day. OR, in our case, 3 Monday-Wednesday, 5 Thursday and 5 on Friday. On top of that, we directed 4 hours of rehearsals with a mere fifteen minute break in between. By the time we made it back to our hotel in the evening, it was bedtime and I was pooped! Fun fact: when Susanna is lacking in sleep, she's either grumpy or loopy. The combination of those two emotions is NOT appropriate for working with kids. At morning workshops, my sleeplessness threatened to overtake me. So, before each morning,I knelt in prayer before the Lord, asking for strength. It wasn't easy to love the unruly children at some of those workshops, but by God's grace I could. Instead of feeling frustrated with kids for jumping on me and failing to pay attention at times, I felt compassionate towards them. Naturally, my sin would sneak up on me, telling me to snap. But the Lord is immensely gracious, and "where sin increased, grace increased all the more". Miraculously, when a little one asked, "Why do I need to listen to this?" I was able to answer politely, and with a smile. And when yet another began to whine because her costume wasn't the way she preferred, I was able to smile, fix her problem and move forward with the day.Also, when the frequent nose-bleed occurred(we are out West, after all), I didn't become unglued. I calmly and patiently escorted him/her to the bathroom and was even able to alleviate any little-one fears with a kind word. It hasn't been easy to live in a world of complaints, nose-bleeds and rebellious attitudes, but by God's grace I manage. No, I don't manage, I shine.Actually, Christ shines.Susanna has nothing to do with it. Last Friday, Jacqueline and I had 5 workshops, 4 hours of rehearsal, and 1 hour of constructing the set afterward. It was a strenuous day. Later on,the Lord encouraged my heart with this verse:
"The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of the dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day"
--Proverbs 4:18
Earlier last week, on a day when I was feeling particularly discouraged over a number of silly things, one little boy decided to make me smile. I was sitting there pitifully attempting some paperwork, when a young Camelotian took my hand. I had been grouchy all day long and I was acting ridiculous.
"Where are we going?"
No answer.
He took me up to the piano, where our lovely accompanist was reviewing sheet music.
When we arrived at the piano(the walk to the stage was quite lengthy), he placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on the accompanist's.With a smile that was more than endearing, he said, "You(accompanist) are just the best piano player ever. And YOU(Susanna) are just...you are just the most talented singer and actor I have ever met". When he finished his spiel, he ran away to join the other children. Was he seriously talking to me, Miss Grumpy McGrumperson? Humbled, party of one. What a gracious God we serve. I know these stories may seem redundant, but its because these grace experiences far outweigh the negativities(which aren't truly as bad as they seem) my sin tries to magnify. How beautiful it is to feel the light of Christ amidst the "Oscar the Grouch" moments. It is refreshingly real and abundantly humbling. Christ shines through the grouch within. Christ is the light source, making his beloved shine "ever brighter until the full light of day" when He returns. What is my response? Thanks and a desire(through God's grace) to love the Oscars of this world. Writing as one myself, you never know what they're feeling.And you have to realize(even though they're not the shiniest toy in the box) that they have glitter,too.

Learning how to love until all have heard,

Susanna