the humility of hope

Some little baby friends are growing into toddlers, and it's so encouraging!

(Not literal babies growing into toddlers, just to be clear; rather, several young friendships growing a little deeper and stronger and easier.)

Something else encouraging today (from C.J. Mahaney):

Scripture calls us to cast all our anxieties on God, because he cares for us.

'Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5:6-7, ESV)'

Casting all my cares upon the Lord is a means of humbling myself before the Lord. In reading these passages we discover that casting our cares upon the Lord falls under the command to humble ourselves. Casting our cares is an expression of humility. When I fail to cast my cares upon him, I display prideful self-sufficiency.

Self-sufficiency is one of my favorite things, so I need to hear this. My schedule is not my own. My strength and ability are not my own. I am in great need of humility. I desperately need it for my survival, flourishing, and joy.

Humility requires releasing my worry. Worry and anxiety are not honoring to Him. They are not truth-reflecting, life-giving, or fruitful. Sometimes I feel like I should worry, or else I'm not giving due concern to a situation. This is absolutely untrue. Concern and thoughtfulness are very different than worry. Concern and thoughtfulness end in trusting action, with joy. Worry and anxiety drain and paralyze. They set me up as the burden-bearer, rather than Jesus.

Lord, let me then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that I may receive mercy and find grace to help me in my time of need. May this confident hope in the great God I serve prevail as an anchor for my soul, firm and secure. For it is good for our hearts to be strengthened by grace, continually offering to God a sacrifice of praise. And may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip me with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in me what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever.

yes

Yes. I trust him. Sometimes I wait in the emotions too long instead of setting them down for the good. So yes, I will trust, not begrudgingly, but with joy and thanksgiving, which is the key to it all.

And I will be yours.
I will be yours for all my life,
So let your mercy light the path before me.

everything

Lord I find you in the seeking, Lord I find you in the doubt.
And to know you is to love you, and to know so little else.
I need you.
Oh how I need you.

Whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him.

Sitting in this tonight - can I lay aside so many good things that I desire for the sake of following my Jesus? I have been obedient, through entangled and confusing motives, and while he has given me such good things, I, like a human, am focused on the things I'm not getting. I'm watching them slip out of my hands, and Satan is saying "You're missing your last chance. Hurry up - grab them while you still can. You're going to miss out." And Jesus is saying "Let them go, Megan. Let them go with joy. You have me. Try me, and I will not be too little for you. I am for you, and I am not making a mistake. Do you trust me?"

focus

Today was my last day as an administrative assistant / volunteer coordinator at SUA - I'm returning to teaching ESL at World Relief full time through AmeriCorps (and continuing to nanny as well). The kids and staff surprised me with a box of sweet notes. The notes were sweet, but sobering as they confirmed through their words that the connections I had made with a few of the kids were still in fragile infancy and may or may not survive my transition. And yet that affirmed recent decisions.

Part of the reason that the connections were slow to deepen was my frenetic pace in the first half of 2013. I like to think I can do everything, and maybe I can, but I can't do everything well. I survived working three jobs and volunteering twenty hours a week and taking two classes all at the same time. But I didn't thrive. And I didn't love well. My time with people was rushed, my enthusiasm continuously low, my investment and openness checked by self-protective instincts. I couldn't connect with kids outside of school, I couldn't accept my students' frequent invitations to their homes, I ignored my neighbors, my money management flew out of control, my physical health declined, my time with Jesus became hurried, and I neglected my family and friends. The summer has been a season of reflection and the fall a season of change - relinquishing my grasp and narrowing my commitments so that I can focus in on being a good steward of my top priorities. It seems so obvious, but it's so hard to accept the limitations of smallness with graceful humility. I was reminded through the lack of depth in the notes, both in their knowledge of me and in my knowledge of them, that being overcommitted had pushed me to this point of having little relationally to show for a year's worth of time at SUA and that I needed to focus in to pursue what I value and what I think I'm made for, which is fewer significant relationships rather than more shallow ones.

The other reason that the connections I made were so incremental was that my position at SUA didn't center around direct engagement with the students. I didn't get to spend all day with them in the classroom, or even work logistics out directly with them and their families as our Office Coordinator does. Instead we only traded small talk and occasional chats, sincere though they might have been, when we happened to be in the same space or as I served them lunch, and most of my engagement was with volunteers and other staff. I need to work in a directly relational position. I am sure of that now. I need a job in which I can spend my days learning to know and be known by real people who are journeying through dark and scary places of life and who could use a companion along the way, and figuring out how to love them well like Jesus loves me well. (What does well mean? Sincerely, openly, humbly, diligently, relevantly, practically, committedly, securely... that's a whole nother conversation.) That's why I love teaching so much, and why I've chosen to focus on that over the next year. I have so much opportunity to connect deeply and consistently and practically and servant-heartedly with my students and I want to focus in on that incredible opportunity that makes use of my loves and my strengths. If I ever went back to working at SUA, I would want it to be as a teacher. They get to be on the front lines, and that's exactly where I want to be. I have learned some good things through my time in the logistics chain, but it's not the right long-term fit for me.

So I'm sad to leave the SUA students and staff, but not sad to leave my role there. I'm encouraged by the opportunities God has opened up for focusing in this year and I'm hopeful that he's going to use it to make me a better vessel of his love.

"Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart; through Christ our Lord. Amen."