Dear Future Husband (Time to Wait)

My dear, future husband,

     I imagine you here, sitting across from the table in front of me.  The shape of your face, and the grin you carry in your eyes, the laughter you may sing.  I wonder the conversations we hold; the hopes and expectations for the day, as well as confessing the fears we gain from our work’s load.  I imagine what it would look like to walk out the callings on our lives, together.  Sharing in the sorrow of the burden from desiring to see people saved; finally rejoicing in the triumph of Christ’s name glorified as they accept Him into their hearts.  I wonder what the silly things we may do, and the partnership we will bear, as two become one flesh.

     There is an excitement to romance.  I have continued to wait for you these many years, as my friends have found their own.  But to be utterly honest, I have found myself recently longing.  Wondering when you will come around.  Or will I come around to you?  I once thought we would be together, by now.  That is not the case.  There are moments I want to rush the interaction (ask how your day was, inquire how you like my new haircut, and yes, possibly flirt); pray that we may talk, and yet, at this time, Daddy tells me to wait.  I am left with idealized memories, and forced to ponder that He has you somewhere for a certain purpose, and I am still here for such a time as this.  My heart must be careful; ideas driven by emotions solely only become falsified infatuations that neither of us can fulfill.

     I wonder if you have thought about me.  If the idea of me has crossed your mind, lately.  Are you patient to wait, or like me, eager to meet?  Do you have to be reminded by Daddy, that He is still transforming our minds and conforming our hearts to be more like His?  I know I have to.  It hurts.  I have already waited for so long, and I wonder how long God’s timeline still must stretch before we are blessed to tie the knot.  However, I know that you are a promise and a gift.  And what He says, He is sure to complete its coming. 

     It is time to wait. 

     It is time to wait.

     Be patient, my love.  It’s not yet time to say, “Hello.”

     I started this letter, in an effort to write a prayer for you.  However, I am realizing more, that the one who needs prayer is your future wife.  Yes, I have, and will continue to pray that you will draw near to God’s voice and heart.  Be sensitive to the Holy Spirit in those moments of closeted prayer, and aware of those interruptions that prove to be opportunities to minister.  Guard your heart and mind from all that may distract you from your purpose, calling, and living a pure and holy life. 

      Nevertheless, I too, find myself in need to wait on Him. To wait for Him. I wish the clock could tick many milliseconds quicker, so that Daddy could finally say we could meet.  But if I was honest with my heart, it would reveal that if you were here, now, I may place a burden upon your shoulders only meant for God to hold.  I may desire your words to an extent that I forget to long for Him to define my identity.  You will be my husband, but you should never be my idol.  This is why I know I must wait.  Before I allow you to steal my heart, and you invite me to steal your last name, I must fully give my being to the Creator and Lord of all things.  To be yours, without being His, I will only become a kinked neck to the head of the house. 

     So, I will wait. 

     I will offer my hopes, desires, and God’s promise back to Him until the appointed time. 

     I hope I will continue to wait.  Ever since I became aware of your future presence, I find myself suddenly noticing the present possible options that could fulfill this desire of romance, and this hope for a future.  Oh golly, they are cute.  Have similar interests, and when they talk to me, it makes me feel nice.  After all, I wasn’t given much attention by boys growing up, aside from being picked to play sports.  They may know Jesus (but honestly, even that is trivial, because I don’t know them well), but they are here.  In the place I am presently called.  So…I wonder…is it any trouble to take my present desire, weave it with a present man, in order to fulfill a future calling?  Would it hurt?  

     Yes, I know it would. 

     For, I already know that I am not solely called to where I am, presently.  So, to greet a man – no matter how suave he may be, would only sway me from what God has ultimately destined.  Not only to mention, by eagerly filling my emotions, I will fail to think of you, and then miss out on what God desired that we would be, together.  But temptations are surely around.  Perhaps, you know them, as well.  Maybe not in the same manner, but still, ever-present in your world.  I pray that you would keep your eyes focused on God, flee from the devil when he comes prowling, until and while we meet.  Pray for me, as well. 

     I know I am not perfect.  Yet, I know that from the deepest parts of my soul, I want to glorify God, and honor you.  Honor you before we meet, when we get to finally exchange vows and rings, as well as while we walk through this life called, “Marriage,” hand-in-hand until death do us part, or when Jesus comes back; whichever comes first.    Everything is made beautiful in its time.  And it will be beautiful, when we – or should I say, I – don’t misstep from the alignment that God has already foreordained. 

     So, I will breathe.  I will wait. 

     Be still, my heart.  It’s not yet time to say, “Hello.”

Until we shall meet, keep your eyes forward on Daddy. 

You are always on my mind.  I love you, and am praying for you,

Laura Emily

Taking Every Moment (IYC 2017 Testimonies)

   It was during worship of the last staff chapel this year, and I sat down reflecting on the last week.  I had five girls in my cabin, and I felt like only two of them were really getting anything out of the services from Indian Youth Camp (the other three were distracted as heck).  Was I doing my job as room staff, and speaking as I needed to throughout this week of ministry?

     I have a tendency to be harsh on myself.  I am prone to seek out the individual, and one-on-one conversations are one of my strengths.  However, as a teacher, I am also trained to also be mindful of everyone in my charge, and the goal is to reach them all.  Yet, in that moment, I felt God had whispered to me, “Don’t get caught on the one(s) you feel you haven’t reached.  Remember the ones you have reached.”  The purpose of this statement was this:  I had suddenly focused on the possible understanding that I didn’t reach everyone in my care.  However, what God wanted me to think on was the testimonies how I had run into a few girls throughout the week, in those interruptions of my walks around the campus came opportunities where He was able to speak to them His love, hope, and truth.  These are their stories.

     Ministry, for me, began the Sunday night.  Camp officially began the Monday afternoon, but the night before, staff and junior staff went up to Hungry Horse for a preparation service by means to worship, be in God’s presence, and pray for the rest of the week.  On the way back from the service, I was talking to one of our Browning junior staff.  The conversation began as things are going alright, but then she admitted that not all was well at home.  With some council, I felt led to pray for her and the understanding of her identity and worth in Christ.

     Out of my five girls, I was given the opportunity to pray with four of them for different reasons.  My first girl comes from Browning.  During our devotion time on Monday night, I had asked the girls, “Do you believe that you are children of God.”  This girl said, “I do, but I don’t, because I don’t know God.”  I, then, asked her if she wanted to ask Jesus into her life.  She wanted to wait until all the girls were gone to shower, but we eventually prayed together.  Later, throughout the week, she asked a couple of good questions, such as, “Do people who don’t believe in Jesus then go to hell?”  As off topic to the devotional as it was, it was impertinent to discuss, and allowed for another girl to ask a question that he always wondered about. 

     Second of my cabin-girls had been eating up what was being said during the services, however, on Thursday, she admitted that her legs had been hurting for two days.  We prayed before chapel began.  When I had asked her if there was any change, she said there was none.  However, after the service, she said that when she went up for the prayer activity given by the youth pastor, her legs no longer hurt.  Jesus had healed her pain! 

     I had one girl who, on the first night of camp, wanted to ask a question, but was quite hesitant to do so.  She wanted to ask about it, but she hinted that she was nervous about what I, perhaps the other girls in the room as well, would think.  I suggested that if she was more comfortable, that she could tell me by herself.  With the prompting of a friend, she admitted, openly, that she is bisexual.  As the conversation went, I could tell that she was wondering if God loves her, yet, I could also hint that she desired that her sexuality, as is was, would be accepted among Christians.  I confirmed that the Bible indeed states that homosexuality is a sin; nevertheless, homosexuality is no greater sin than the pride I have struggled with, and yes, God still loves her.  I encouraged her to give her sexuality to God. 

     Two days had passed, and as I was walking around the campus, I ran into her, tears about to run down her cheeks.  I asked her what was going on, but she just wanted to curl up in a ball in the dorm-room.  Convincing her to talk with me, she then explained that she has these emotions that no one understands, and a father who tells her to not cry.  She was heartbroken over a girl she was attracted to (and was showing attention to someone else). 

     A heart hurt over a relationship, even if the relationship is the wrong relationship, is still a heart hurt.  The conversation grew into explaining my own experiences with attractions (though toward boys, I have some lessons that could be shared), and waiting for the right time to be in a relationship.  I advised her that she would need to talk to this girl and let her know that they can only be friends.  She wondered what the use would be.  “What’s the use if I’m going to hell anyway?”  Even though this girl claimed to be bisexual, and she desired at some level that she wanted that to be okay, there was an uncomfortableness in her spirit, because, she also wanted to believe and please God.  We prayed together that God would take hold of her life, and lead her how to be following Him.  We also prayed that God would help her emotions and restore her sexuality as He meant it to be.

     The last girl in my cabin that I interacted with, in my book, needed a spiritual PCA (personal care attendant).  From night one she admitted struggling with depression (later, suicidal tendencies).  She wanted to worship God, but due to the things that have happened in her past, she didn’t know how to worship.  Throughout the week, it seemed like she was the one I had to attend to the most, and was constantly praying with.  She woke up two out of the four nights with being startled in her dreams or hearing a voice (she also has a history of night terrors…may be due to what happened to her).  Throughout the week, I confided in a friend, and agreed that she needed some deliverance ministry, however, knowing that she doesn’t have any godly support back home, any more than just praying with her to sleep well and speaking into her identity may make her more susceptible for attacks that she won't recover from.  This isn’t to say that she doesn’t need this kind of ministry, but deliverance plus counseling is needed to heal many of the wounds she carries. 

      That being said, throughout the week, I saw that she was smiling more and more.  On the last night, I woke up at 5:00 in the morning, as expected (she would wake up around this time).  I heard startling, and prayed suddenly, “Oh, God, please not again.”  As I lifted my head, it was other girls that were moving in their sleep.  This girl had slept straight through the night!  Somehow, I believe God woke me up at that time to show me that she slept straight through.  I hope that as she goes on, further healing will come into her life, and Christ is given the room and opportunity to minister to her soul.  Another God-thing in this girl’s life:  I found out that she lives in Missoula right now, and me being from Missoula, I have resources to get her connected with a church and Christian friends.  That was really cool to find out! 

     Ministry was not only secluded to my room staff girls.  I found that some staff members needed prayer; ministry in a home situation, another needed prayer for a sprained ankle (which by the next morning, had the wrap off and was walking without any pain).  My “PCA girl” had a friend that she feared had been offended.  When she brought up her concern, I had just hunted down a Bible and wanted to go upstairs and write a note in it.  However, I felt the Holy Spirit prompt me to follow her, and when I did, she sat down under the bridge-stairs, talking to her friend.  I knelt down and listened to the conversation.  I asked if I could come under and talk to the friend.  The friend admitted she plays mind games in order to obtain control.  She said that her parents have told her she was a mistake.  I felt like God wanted to speak about her identity. 

     “Do you know that you are a blessing?  Maybe your parents were surprised, but God was excited when you were born.  You have gifts and talents that can be used to bless others.  Let me prove it to you.  Who was it that comforted and hugged [my PCA girl]?”

     “I was,” with tears streaming in her eyes.  We then prayed that she would give her life to God, repented of the mind games, trust Him to have control, and to stand in her identity. 

    

     Many things happened this last week of Indian Youth Camp.  Many years, there are moments when it was very visibly evident that the Holy Spirit was moving, people were not only getting prayed for, but encounters were happening.  This year, from the very first night (at least in the youth services), students were given words of truth.  Things were stated that would impact their overall being, if the teens would just take hold of what was being said, and bring it home with them.  Pastor John Weasel mentioned one night that every year, we come crying, and discussing the same hardships we brought the year before.  He challenged that we cannot live for a transactional relationship with Jesus; rather, transformational.  One where what happens at camp actually has a lasting impact on the lives of those who come, their communities, and when returning, would be able to share testimonies and laugh about what God has done. 

       Thinking upon IYC 2017, I am thankful that God encountered so many of our teens.  It’s humbling to know that He’s willing to use shy-old-me (actively praying with people is actually a relatively new thing for me) to share what He wanted said with these girls.   He used my personality and giftings, and I didn’t have to try to be someone else to try to reach them.  He knows that one-one-one is the best way I can get through to kids, and He used that.  As a teacher, I started using some classroom management to strategize keeping some of the nightly distractions down (seriously, I yelled at them and started counting like I did with the preschoolers I taught last semester, but it worked…).  He gave me ideas of how to modify the devotions to better fit their understanding and keep their attention. 

     Furthermore, I also had to remind myself that the transformation of a transformational relationship isn’t solely dependent on me.  That was what I was struggling with Thursday morning, as I became acutely aware that the week was drawing to a close.  I needed to realize that I stepped up when God prompted me to do so, be grateful for those personal conversations, but also let God do the work.  After all, Indian Youth Camp is only four days, and these teens have another full year before they come back again. 

     Camp is great, but the real work is going to happen while they are at home.  The test of the longevity of their faith will be formatted as they live their lives in their communities.  I pray that the work that happened at camp wasn’t merely a fun event; rather, I hope it was a stepping stone.  Events are merely great memories, but the deep impact is forgotten.  Stepping stones create an ongoing trail  as long as one continues to place stones in a certain direction.  In this case, following after Christ in all areas of their lives.  Perhaps, next year, there will be more testimonies, and a lot more laughter. 

     I hope and pray so.

The Weighted Beauty in the Wait of Pruning

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens...He has made everything beautiful in its time." - Ecclesiastes 3:1, 11a

The hands of my mind
Gripped the matters
Of my circumstance,
Coveting the control I lack.
What should be
Is not
Manifesting into the reality 
I hoped it would be.

I awake in the morning
Confident and expectant
That the fruit of Your Spirit
Will make its impact.
Nevertheless, by nightfall,
Any surety of
Your blessing revealed
Is dashed.

Why, when I come,
Does the wind of chaos appear?
What is the fault,
Once hidden within me,
Seemingly illuminate in the midst
Of my calling?  Isn't this the place
Of my purpose; why then
Where I should thrive, I fall?

A slick, slimy, leather hand
Caressed tightly
Around my throat, cutting off
The windpipe to my heart.
Confusion continued to stir in my mind
As I assumed the evidence apparent
Deemed by the outcome
Of the immediate day.

There is more to this ruckus
Than what meets the eye.
Nevertheless, I became short-sighted
And True Reason's voice
Deafened within my soul.
The Mirror could not remind
Who I am.  I sank and sulked.  
In Your rest, I no longer made my bed.

Oh!  How I have forgotten You!
Oh!  How I failed to run to You
In faith!  "Though storms may come,
Still I will hold fast!"
At least, I hoped that would be so.
Yet, I remained confident
In my strength, but my weakness
Proved me crumbling.

Surrender my all?
I thought I had.
But in the presence of pressure
I secretly longed
For the sovereignty You possess.
My mind under duress
My spirit brittled with doubt
As I attempted claim to Your throne.

Dear soul,
Surrender my will;
Remember the One who created
Never slumbers nor sleeps.
Remember the futility of my ability
Without His breath.
Release my grip and trust 
In the One named Yahweh.

Dear God, One who I call
Father; may I lean into You
As I would with a daddy.
You hold everything in Your hands
Even when all my plans fall apart.
Though Your intentions seem unseen,
My lack of understanding births frustration,
You are still explicitly Lord.

This rose still breeds thorns,
And this garden, greatly seeded,
Finds thistles in the midst of its fruit.
Prune my heart, God, in this season.
Purpose the pain and the tears.
The weight of Your wonder found 
In the waiting of the beauty
You bloom in time.

#JesusPlus

"People pleasing  is where you search for people to say something about you that God has already said." - Matt Daniels


"Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one can come to the Father, except through me.'" - John 14:6


Tell me to look in the mirror;
I will tell You
I don't see what You see.

Outwardly, I praise Your Name
Who is Lord of all creation.
Inwardly, I worship,
Yet, inwardly I wonder...
Physically left un-affirmed,
My mistakes magnified,
Inwardly, I am left doubting
My sufficiency.

The definition of my identity skewed.
Absence of words and affection
Spoken in the flesh
Leave me believing I am forgotten
By all, I just wanted 
To be
Good enough.  Society's mark
Pegged on this mirror titled, "me".
Not only to fit the bill:
Expected perfection in every way,
Failures fantastically scrutinized...

Honest reflection proves me faulty
With many voices uttering determination.
I am left broken,
Wavering in who I truly am.
Sufficiency of myself proves stumbling.
Every effort performed, this culture
Remains dead and void.
What more sacrifice can I bring

On this altar of affirmation
Paying the debt of my definition
For a sufficient constant in my life?

Why, when a Lamb
Already slain for my pain and sin,
Am I compelled to add my fruit?
Why, when the Creator
Already adopted me as His child,
Am I convinced to claim my orphaning?
Why, when the whole world
Continues singing of His glory,
Am I quickly believing I am alone?
Why, when I have been forgiven,
Am I forgetful of His grace?

Jesus plus something
Equals nothing.
Jesus plus nothing
Equals everything.

God, renew my entire being
That I may be complete
In and of You.  Remind me
Before I knew You, You already loved me.
You called my name, and declared,
"I am your home."
Forgive me when my mind sways.
Pursue me until I am infinitely Yours.
Deafened to all other voices,
Blinded to all who I was supposed to be,
May I completely abide in You.

Tell me to look in the mirror:
Jesus is the Way to my definition
Your words are the Truth of my affirmation
You are the Life of my sufficiency.
Amen.