Time to trash the bushel....

Isaiah 52:7—How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings the good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “your God reigns.”

I have never before considered writing a blog, because I thought they were solely for self-promotion. And I am not a big fan of self-promotion.

Or the Internet, really. …Or technology in general….

So for a moment I questioned what the Lord meant when He put this idea into my head. I (in my judgmental flesh, admittedly) always thought that blogs were for people who wanted to post pictures of their lunch, or for folks think everyone on the Internet cares about their political opinions, their social drama… (and)or the pretty cupcakes they made.

In other words, I have judged bloggers as people seriously out of touch with reality.

They say that what irritates you about others is what you hate in yourself.

I was the fourteen-year-old who wrote on the neon pink pages of my diary that I would become a famous writer by the end of high school (haha)—and did not care enough about others to make an effort to have many friends. I was love-lazy and self-involved, a textbook introvert who just didn’t think other people were worth the time. All I did was write by myself at a hand-me-down desk in my room…and shared my work with no one.

Not narcissistic at all, right?

As I got older, I decided to actually live my life. But there were struggles in the real world that I didn’t expect. When I look at pictures from my senior year of college, I want to turn away. That girl was unhappy, self-serving, restless, manipulative: a daughter aching for a Father, yet longing to be in control, to have Him do things her way. I belonged to Jesus, surely; my parents were sold-out charismatic Christians, and my childhood had been filled with faith and miracles. Even so, I couldn’t make up my mind whether I wanted Him or not. I knew what kind of sacrifice I would have to give: myself.

Submerged in a liberal arts program at a large university, I tried to fit in by not fitting it. I attempted to recreate myself every day. Life was a performance to a nonexistent audience, one that couldn’t have cared less how hipster my music was, what dress I wore, whether or not I pierced my ear a second time or got drunk at a party. God forbid (though He didn’t) that anyone EVER think I was one of “those people”—a Christian who was unable to connect with nonbelievers, judgmental, hypocritical, goody-goody. I WOULD NOT be that. Although I was still a believer, still went to church, still read my Bible, I was determined that I would be artsy. Bohemian. Counter(Christian)culture.

Although I would have died rather than admit it, I wanted to be what I was trying to make it look like I was trying not to be: cool. I wanted to prove that I could be a Christian, and still be acceptable to the world—the “adult” world, the “artsy” world….whatever any of that meant.

Talk about being out of touch with reality.

I look at those pictures, and I see a frustrated girl in pain, but unable to pinpoint what part of her body the pain was coming from.

It wasn’t as horrible as I make it sound; I don’t mean to be dramatic. It’s just that in hind sight, I realize what I was missing. Something happened between that eighth-grade journal and this summer. I admitted what I had known all along: I didn’t need to recreate myself; I needed the Holy Spirit to recreate me.

I decided a little less than two years ago that I was going to give up my vision of my life and follow Jesus, letting go of what everyone else thought (or what I thought they were thinking about me). A lot of circumstances led up to that point, and I am a slow learner, but my life has not been the same since.

And I never want to go back there again. So I didn’t want to write a blog.

But this verse kept coming to me:

Revelation 12:11: And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.

We shall overcome—not only by the blood of our Savior, but by the word of our testimony.

Many of my believing friends have been encouraged and built up by the word of my testimony, by the stories of my daily walk with Christ—how He frees me from this or that mentality or sin, how He brings me to realize important things, how He teaches me to love, how He surprises me—how a girl has fallen more and more deeply enraptured with a Father. My testimony is a daily thing. Tiny miracles, little sparks of light—and sometimes big explosions—characterize my everyday experience, now that I’ve invited God into my life.

Ephesians 5:8-9: …for at one time you were in darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of the light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true)…

I have watched in amazement as the Lord has transformed so much darkness in me into the fruit of light. And I do not share these blindingly brilliant colors enough—for fear of being awkward, of not being understood, and—worst of all—of people thinking I’m a sap, or that I’m (shudder!) cheesy (my eighth-grade self’s worst nightmare).

But I am not afraid anymore.

Psalm 34:4-5: I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.

I just graduated with a master’s and I am going to move to Washington DC in about two weeks—a city about which I literally said, “I don’t think I would ever want to live there.” I strongly dislike snow and politics, and I especially dislike being far away from my family (who lives in Mississippi). So you can imagine that giving up my dream of moving to the beach and going to DC instead was about as scary to my human reasoning as writing a blog. But…never say never to God, folks. He’s called me, and I’d rather follow Him anywhere than be stuck in my comfort zone. I just know that over the next year, as I do my time in my 11-month job, God is going to grow me in ways I cannot even imagine now, and I want to proclaim His name and give Him glory for all of those things.

2 Corinthians 12:11: If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. …because that will glorify my Savior all the more!

So, after thinking about this blog idea (and arguing a little with the Lord about it), I realized what it will be: a testimony that will solely and completely glorify the Lord, for the encouragement of believers. It is as much for YOU as it is for me, because I hope that by reading it, your hearts may gain courage, may be built up by my words. I do not want to be love-lazy anymore: you are worth it to me. And so is Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 5:11: Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

It’s time to trash the bushel—I’m not hiding my light anymore.

In the words of Peter and John: “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge, for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard.” (Acts 4:19)

And the psalmist: I will thank you in the great congregation; in the mighty throng I will praise you. (Psalm 35:18)

If I ever use these pages to self-glorify, I hope one of you posts a nasty comment. I promise not to post pictures of myself and tell you that I’m going to Wal-Mart or that it is raining.

I just want to be a prism—transparent, boasting in my weakness—being filled with the light of Christ and shining out the fruit of light in rainbow colors on the world. (Yeah, that sounded cheesy…so what??)

And maybe, along the way, I will learn to love even “those people” that I have trained myself to roll my eyes at—you know, the people who post pictures of their lunch and commentary about their eye doctor appointments. …God, who searches hearts, is able to change mine. Hallelujah!

Go with me on this journey to glorify the Lord. I want to show you how He makes my dirty feet beautiful on the mountains. This page is just another step. And I’ve got my good shoes on.