Rejection

I hate rejection. I actually don’t know of anyone who enjoys it, the thing is, I hate it, yet I seem to attract it; Why is that? I try so hard to keep myself safe from its bite, but every now and then I let my guard down, and BAM, it gets the best of me. The thing I hate most about rejection is its ability to take away my self worth. In no time flat, I am reduced to a weeping mess that is unsure of everything she has ever accomplished in life. I wish I could think logically and realize that just because someone doesn’t like who I am or what I have done, doesn’t mean that I am any less of a person. In my imagination I am that person, I am able to think, I am confident and can stand up for myself; but in real life, I have to admit, I really want people to like me.

I’m realizing that being excluded feels like rejection. It’s just wrapped up prettier; instead of coming right out and saying you aren’t good enough, it says maybe next time.... I actually think it’s more cunning because it keeps you waiting. I am also realizing that no matter how many times you have been rejected, it doesn’t get any easier. I wonder if you ever get to the point when it doesn’t sting anymore? When it doesn’t take away a part of you?

And then I turn to Jesus..... “He was despised and rejected by men, and man of sorrows and familiar with suffering.” (Isaiah 53:3 NIV) And I realize that He knows rejection, He knows exclusion.... even to death. And somehow this brings me comfort; this takes away the sting. I don’t know if it’s because I have a God who will never reject me, or if it’s because I know He has gone through it all before. Either way I know I’m not alone, and even if the people in this world don’t understand me, or like me, or want me, I have a God who does, and that seems to make everything a little lighter.

Lonely

I have come to realize I hate when my husband is away. I’ve thought of calling him a million times today; I love having someone to share something funny with, or to bounce an idea off of, or just to simply ask how he’s doing. Every time I reach for the phone I remember he’s in Africa, and then I get this sick lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach. For some reason it makes me feel completely alone. I have people all around, but I feel like part of me is missing; the part of me that I enjoy. The one that makes me relax and have fun; the one that reminds me that not everything has to be so serious. I know that I can be these things while he is gone, it just seems harder. Learning how to be alone is a discipline, and I’m finding myself not wanting any part of it. I love short times of solitude, don’t get me wrong, it’s the long periods of doing life by yourself that I could do without.

Tom if you read this, we are a great team. You make my life a lot easier and a whole lot more fun.

I Love

I love gum, and silence (even though I just learned to spell it), and the sound of old hondas in reverse. I love pictures of people laughing, and paintings of people eating at some unknown cafe. I love hot summer days when you have nothing to do but swim and BBQ with good friends. I love watching old people, especially when they lift their hands in worship. I don’t know why this is, maybe it gives me hope that they have lived through it all and still praise the Master. Maybe it is because they have more answers than I do and I’m a bit envious. I love good books and flowery language, and most of the time I wish I knew how to speak it so I could seem mysterious and romantic. I love the ocean and the desert; both vast and untamable. I love naps and movie days; those days when you put away your to do list and decide to do nothing. I love painted toenails and big necklaces, and every once in awhile I love to get so dressed up that I don’t even recognize myself. But most of the time, I love ponytails and t-shirts and comfortable flip-flops. I love deep conversations; the kind that make you think even after they are over, the kind that change you for the better. I love nostalgia, times of remembering the good and the bad. Times of remembering lessons learned and good times past. I love finding the hand prints of God in every part of my life, so that my everyday seems purposeful. I love sisters because they know all your stuff, and most of the time they love you anyway. I love the kind of laughter that takes your breath away; when tears fall and lungs burn, but you just can’t stop. I love marriage; a lifetime spent discovering someone other than yourself. I love having kids and learning who I am as a parent. And when I seriously fail as a mother, wife, friend, sister, I love the fact that there is forgiveness, and with everyday comes the hope of new possibilities. There is so much I love, and yet most days I don’t remember them. I remember the task, the broken vacuum, the things done wrong. I remember all the ways I’ve failed and all the things that I need to do. But very rarely do I take the time to remember the little inconsequential things that put a smile on my face and make me feel at home. The things that make my life unique and wonderful. It’s time I start to remember the things I love.

Faith

Living by faith is hard. No one ever promised me it would be easy, but I figured that after doing it for awhile you would some how get used to it. I'm finding that I was wrong; it still seems the most unnatural thing for me to do. I have countless stories of God's faithfulness in my life, yet every time I face a new giant I wonder if this might be the time the Lord won't pull through. I want things that I can touch and feel; things like concrete plans and balanced budgets, I want numbers to be crunched, deadlines to be met and problems to be solved; I want to know exactly where I stand. But for some reason God hasn't been doing what I want lately, He has had the audacity to make me sweat things out. He keeps telling me to trust Him and I answer, "but what if..." He patiently comes back with another "trust me" and I respond with a "how can I know for sure." I get the feeling that I'm asking a foolish question because by the very nature of trust I won't ever know for sure.

My sister called me last week and challenged me to step out in faith and enroll my kids at the school they know and love. I looked into the cost and realized that the giant I was facing was huge, I actually decided that he was too big, and I started to retreat. Apparently in my mind God can do many things, but come up with the cost of tuition was asking too much. Instead of retreating I kept walking forward because I wanted to prove to myself that I believed more of God. I went and got the paper work, Tom filled it out, and we turned in their applications, simply because I didn't want to reduce my God to my budget. I wanted to step out and show myself that I can trust Him. I know that He may not provide for my kids to go to school there, but I needed to stop making my giants bigger than my God. This was a step of faith; and I felt good about it..... that is until today. I was eating lunch when we got a call saying that the school no longer gives discounts to missionaries. I was crushed, I felt sad and sick all at the same time. Sad because I felt like we were rejected by an old friend, like this school that has my love and loyalty didn't reciprocate my feelings. Sick because I felt like I was on my own, with a burden too big for me to bear, and then I remembered my God is bigger. Living by faith is hard because you have to continue to have faith even when your circumstances seem impossible. I had gotten used to having faith for a certain amount of money, but I started to waver once that went up; so today after I took a few huge steps back, I'm once again trying to trust God. Once again trying to believe Him and although He may say no, He is still and always will be bigger than my budget.

Letting Go

Time and distance have a way of overtaking friendship, not that they are lost forever, life has just taken you down different roads. Friendships that played a vital role in my life at one time have been reduced to Christmas cards and sporadic e-mails. I have had friends that I dearly love come in and out of my life so many times that I'm loosing count. When they walk out I'm always left wondering if the pain of seeing them go was worth the time spent with them. I know in my heart that it is; I cherish those moments of talking, eating, shopping, laughing, dancing, but I find myself resentful of the fact that they are now just memories. I know that I can't chase down everyone and make them stay the same, but sometimes I wish I could.

I received a book, in the mail, from a dear friend of mine that I haven't seen in a long time. As I was reading it, crying my eyes out, I realized that what makes this moment so special to me is that I love the giver. I know her even though I haven't seen her in years, I have history and memories with her that I won't ever forget. We are connected by friendship, and tonight as I read that book I realized that time and distance can't take that away. Even though we aren't walking next to each other on our journey right now, I remember a time when we were, and it was sweet.

Thanks for all the memories E, and by the way, I LOVE the book!!!

Change

A new hair cut for Julie. I wanted to go shorter but decided I would do it slowly. Here are some pics of my new do.... Keep in mind I had to take the pictures myself, so they are aren't the best, my hair looks better in person. This is all part of the quest to find fun Julie.

What do you Think?

I am trying to update the look of my blog, but my technical IQ is extremely low, so I just gave up and will try again when I have help. I can, however, push a button and allow my blog to take the form of a pre-made template courtesy of Blogger, so that is exactly what I have done.... viola, a new page, what do you think?

I haven't had time to write about the women's retreat I went on last weekend; with starting a new diet (yes, American food is too good for me to resist), baseball season being in full swing, and trying to keep my kids focused on the last few weeks of school, I have had little time to write. But I don't want to let the experiences I had go left unsaid, so I will finally share my tale.

Last Friday I loaded up with a van full of women and headed for the mountains. I was excited to get away for a few days and relax, but I had no idea the impact those two days would have on my life. The Lord met me there and refreshed my soul, it was a sweet time of seeking the Lord, not only for His direction in my life, but also for His joy. I have been in a very dry period of life; wanting to have passion, but feeling very little. Wanting to have direction, but feeling very lost. Wanting to hear the voice of the Lord, but wondering if he has somehow forgotten me. I have been told I am in Gods waiting room, I HATE waiting, in fact, sometimes I think waiting is a form of torture. People have also told me I need to have patience while I'm waiting; patiently waiting is that even possible?? Seeing as I have no other choice, here I sit in God's waiting room doing my best to patiently wait. Back to the retreat... two things happened during the weekend; the first was that I realized I can still be fun (it has been a long time) and the second was that I conquered fear.

I was talked into going on a high ropes course, I have no idea how this happened, I guess I'm still am a sucker for peer pressure. I was simultaneously crying and shaking as I walked to the beginning of the course; I really thought I was going to run the other way when my turn came to pull my body up the ropes. I was completely surprised when I found myself actually climbing up to the corse (this experience also showed me it's time to start Weight Watchers). For those that don't know what a high ropes corse is, I will describe it from my viewpoint (someone who is extremely afraid of heights) it looks like death by falling. Actually, it looks like extreme suffering for the rest of your life. It was 75 feet up in the air and the goal was to shimmy across wires so that you could come to the end of the corse only to jump off. My name has always been "Much Afraid" just like the character in "Hinds Feet on High Places", I guess I thought my name would never be changed, but this weekend after I completed the corse it changed. I am no longer Much Afraid, I will no longer let fear control my life. Instead I will purposely walk through it no matter how much I want to run the other way. This was the first time that I realized I have a choice with fear. Choosing to not fear doesn't mean I won't feel the emotion, it means that I will CHOOSE to walk through it.

What I loved about the ropes corse is that I am able to exalt God through it; those who know me realize it wasn't me that did it (I have no courage in myself), but rather my Heavenly Father took my hand and gave me the strength and courage to cross something that looked impossible to my human mind. What a lesson this is for me in life; and just like the character in "Hinds Feet on High Places" my name has been changed to "Grace and Glory" because it is only by His Grace that my name changed and it is only for His Glory that is has changed. Praise God!