I just returned from 10 days of training for my new job. It was exhilarating, and wonderfully encouraging being with a group of people all passionate about the same thing, and all wanting to work for the benefit of our campuses. It was exhausting. I got LOTS of free books.
I'm a bit apprehensive about coming back home. I'm still struggling to find a solid Christian community at home. I have a lot to process, but I also have a lot of work to do for MPD and preparing a bachelorette party/wedding. I also am deeply concerned for the health of a friend of mine. I'm trying to schedule appointments that require driving around the state quite a bit, while navigating between weddings and family obligations. I feel a bit stretched thin. I will try to update soon, but know that I have a lot on my plate right now. Peace.
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Hello, average of 13.25** people who read this blog daily. I know I said I'd continue my musings on courage, but I'm not at the moment.
Could I ask you all to be praying for me over the next weeks/months? I've begun developing ministry partners for my new position. It's been very difficult thus far, and really discouraging. I had been hoping and praying for certain people to respond more favorably than they actually have. Some were actually rather hostile, which was not totally unprecedented, but difficult all the same. If you could keep me in your prayers, I would really value that. Times like this when I'm completely devoid of Christian community I swear the Spirit makes others' intercessions more tangible to me. I would very much be blessed if you remembered me in your prayers, whether it be your daily prayer time or anytime you see something that brings me to mind. Thank you Rachel Fruit and Labor **Statistic calculated by taking the mean number of views across 8 days. [1] day omitted as an outlier. College is not so far gone that I feel able to cite numbers without saying where I got them from. All that APA training was for some good it seems. I've sort of been killing time, waiting to get the "okay" from my supervisor that I can go ahead with the next step in my fundraising process. Well, I got the "okay" today, and was immediately filled with more anxiety than the last time I had to tell a guy I liked him (and I think we all can sympathize with how terribly distressing that conversation can be). I achieved new levels of anxious, unlocking new bonuses like +5 trembling and +17% chance to vomit. Seriously. It was bad. Up until today I really hadn't felt too much anxiety regarding this whole process. I knew, intellectually, that this was going to be difficult and challenging. But somehow I was emotionally removed. I think perhaps, until today, all of my fundraising was a future event. And because it was in the future, I didn't have to deal with it yet. So I sort of postponed all the feelings until today when the future suddenly became NOW and I had things to do. So first I made a list of the things I need to do, the first three of which were calm down, pray, and breathe. Then I started doing the things I need to do, because luckily God has given me such a strong sense of duty and responsibility that I will always do what I need to regardless of my emotional, physical, or mental state. As I did so, I tried to figure out exactly why I was so anxious. Am I scared I won't be able to be funded? I don't think so--I believe God will do it. Am I scared of being rejected? I don't think so-- I have a lot of practice with that, and no longer fear it. Am I scared of this taking a long time? Partly, but not enough to account for the enormity of my emotions right now. And so on. As I attempted to introspect- my way to understanding, a song played on my iPod in the car. With every line playing I felt my anxieties evaporating, and surrendered control to God. Take a listen to the song below--it's quite good. This is what happens when you realize you're not in control. I am not in control. I can try to be in control, I can pretend this is everything I thought my life would be like when I graduated, and attempt to control the pieces in my life. Or I can admit that I'm not the one in control. Some days I may find it easy to do so, and other days I may find everything overwhelming. And that's okay. (Yes, it's another Reign of Kindo song. I swear I don't work for them, and they don't pay me anything. it's not my fault that everything they write is incredibly Relevant and Relatable, two favorite words of most Christians) Rachel Fruit and Labor It's probably bronchitis. I've been stuffed and coughing for weeks (either from a cold or allergies) but it has reached level 35 and evolved into Bronchitis. Lovely.
I have this love/hate relationship with being sick. I hate it because, obviously, I don't feel well. Right now my breathing is even more restricted than normal. When I get up to walk across the room, I'm winded. I went downstairs and that was a bad choice, because once I got up the stairs I was gasping for air (for perspective, there's less than 20 stairs). I don't sleep well because I'm coughing and wheezing. My environment is pretty toxic at the moment. But part of me almost likes being sick. People don't expect anything from you when you're sick. Nobody hounds you about the things you need to do, nobody demands to have your time, nobody asks you why you haven't done X yet. Instead, they tell you to rest. Sometimes I feel guilty when I take time to rest. There's so much to do, how can I possibly be resting right now? I'm letting people down. I'm irresponsible. I actually prayed during the school year that I would get really sick so that I would have an excuse to stop doing things (shocker, it didn't work. God made me learn how to deal with my own things). When I'm sick, I have the built in excuse to not do anything and rest, because i'm physically incapable of doing very much. Of course, part of me hates that. I really hate feeling useless and weak, which is exactly what happens when you're sick enough. I can't accomplish anything. I haven't even fully unpacked my room because I have to sit and rest after unstacking the boxes from move-out; I get too winded. I'm usually bad at accepting care from others. I'm much better at it when I'm sick. It makes it harder when there isn't someone around to take care of me and I still have to take care of myself even though I'm weak. But it really does remind me of my utter dependency on God. Even the days I think I'm strong and capable I'm really no better than when I'm lying on the floor gasping for air. I need Him jut as much, and I'm better at accepting everything He offers when I recognize how weak I really am. But I do hope I can breathe by the time staff training rolls around next week. I'd rather not infect my neighbors. Rachel Fruit and Labor P.S: Yeah, those were intentional subtle pokemon references. In pokemon Red and Blue for gameboy there's a rocket guy in Silph co. who says "that's right, KOFFING evolves into WEEZING!" As a kid, I got pneumonia right after I spoke to that guy in the game. For years I was convinced that talking to him made me sick. I usually battle every person I can, but I would always skip that guy because I was afraid I'd get pneumonia. My heart rate still increases when I battle him now (YES I STILL PLAY MY POKEMON BLUE) So I'm single. I've been single my entire college career.
And that's weird. I didn't exactly plan on dating someone--I just sort of assumed it would happen, the way you don't really plan on hanging out with your friends on a weekend. You just know it's going to happen, and then once it's Friday you go to your people and say, "hey, what are we doing tonight?" It's assumed that it's happening, and everyone knows that it's happening without too much conscious effort until the moment you have to make a choice of what to do. Some days I am able to be thankful that I'm single. Going on IV Staff is easier because I'm single. I don't have to worry about remaining in a certain location--I can go where ever I am needed. It's easier to fundraise for only one person. I don't have to try and plan a wedding while I'm graduating. I'm pretty autonomous and free, which I can appreciate. Some days I am honestly grateful, and celebrate it. Sometimes it also really sucks. Partly because it seems like near everyone is dating. It was harder earlier in the year when the dating culture reached a point where I had three (3) and only three friends who were single. Some have broken up now, and I feel a little less like an anomaly. It's also hard because I want to be in a relationship. I know I want to get married, And with 12 couples that I know getting married within the next year, it's hard not to feel like I missed my chance. Which is stupid, really, I'm only 21. I am certainly not an old maid. It's hard because it's something I really desire (this from a girl who just over a year ago thought she might be called to singleness and was ecstatic about it. God is unexpected). I want to get married, I want to be a wife and mother. It's this incredible mystery I cannot fathom and I want it. Not having it can leave me feeling terrible. So there's this thing I do sometimes to feel better. I have this tendency to get wrapped up in my brain. My imagination runs rampant and suddenly I'm off inside my head and slightly dissociated from reality. I over-think and over-analyze and trap myself in my thoughts. This can either by hyper-productive, or extremely negative. Because of this, I sometimes get in one of these episodes where I am trying so hard to figure out what I'm supposed to be learning, or what God is doing right now. Why would you tell me that I can start dating? Why would you tell me I am going to get married? Why would you reveal these things, and then keep me single for so long? Did I miss something? Maybe you told me BECAUSE it's going to be a long time. I bet this is a test of faith! I probably won't get married until I'm in my 40s! Ahhh, I see what you're doing. So then, what do I do with that man over there? I'm lonely. How come everyone else gets to get married except me? and on and on and on. Pretty self-centric, right? Right. In response, I pray. I tell God I trust Him. I tell Him I'm trying really hard to mean it, to act like it even on the days I don't feel it, because sometimes that's the bigger trust. I try to let go and trust His timing. I ask Jesus to help me let go. All the usual stuff you'd pray. I also try perspective taking. It started out as an accident. I was in front of the mirror one day getting ready for bed and was praying. I don't even remember what it was about. But I was overcome with this massive surge of urgency. I swear, I thought about everything. The wars internationally, sex trafficking, the political unrest, the way our government is, wondering if they'll be a revolution in my lifetime, I thought about sexual violence and abuse, I wondered how long it will take our generation to get out of debt, I thought about the things I see on my facebook newsfeed from my peers, I thought about racism on campus and worldwide. I thought about so many things and it kept snowballing bigger and bigger. I was overwhelmed, and could only pray in desperation, "Please, Lord, come soon." And when I thought about those things, I (finally) stopped thinking about myself. Having a boyfriend seems relatively inconsequential compared to the state of the entire fallen world. All I want is to be part of redeeming even the smallest part of that, by starting with one person whose life can be redeemed by Christ. My choice in spouse, no matter how important and big and crucial that decision truly is in my life, is little compared to the redemption of the earth. I cannot make myself despair over being single when I feel despair over the state of the earth. I cannot be hopeless over being single when I am filled with hope for Christ's next coming. I still want to get married someday. That didn't change. But my perspective did. If I find myself inflamed with any passion for dedicating my life to seeing the Kingdom on earth, if I garner any hope from entrusting the fallen world to Christ, surely I can trust Him with my personal future, too. Rachel Fruit and Labor Yesterday was Good Friday.
Yesterday I kept calling it Black Friday. I was gently reminded by a few people that Black Friday is a different thing from Good Friday. But in my head Good Friday is the blackest Friday. So I went and looked it up, and apparently Good Friday can also be called Black Friday, so I'm not totally crazy. It's not only used to reference possibly the largest day for consumerism and materialism in the US. I almost never think of this day as Good Friday. I know in my head that it is a good thing; I know that Christ's death is ultimately for my good, and without it, I would be eternally separated from the God I was made to know and therefore be forever unsatisfied and wanting. But I still see it as Black. Maybe it's partially from growing up Catholic. Every year at the end of the lenten season, the church reads the arrest and crucifixion of Jesus. The entire congregation reads the part of the Jews, chanting in unison, "Crucify him, crucify him." When Christ dies, the lights dim and are not restored until he has risen. It's an entirely dark and somber atmosphere, and really quite powerful. I feel transported back to the day of the crucifixion. Can you imagine? The Jews who waited so long for their Savior hail him in on Palm Sunday with joy, thinking that at last they will be free of Roman oppression. No, they don't understand the freedom Christ is really offering, but imagine how wonderful they must feel. At long last, here is the King. We have waited lifetimes-- our ancestors died waiting, and here we get to see the King! Everyone is filled with joy. Hosanna! Hosanna! At long last, Hosanna! But Jesus is not what they expected. He does not overthrow the government, and the people are restless. The fearful religious leaders, who have put their entire salvation in the law and see how Jesus makes that crash around them, stir up the crowd. They are angry. If here is the King, where is what we were promised? He lies, he lies, he is not the King. Crucify him. Crucify him for the hope he gave us. Crucify him for lying. Crucify him. Here the Jews kill the very man they have been waiting for. Here they murder their Messiah. And after Christ dies, when the earth shakes and the veil is torn, after he has given his last breath and a man proclaims "truly this man was the son of God!" After the realization sets in, what then? Can you imagine the pain? The pain of the ones who realized they murdered their Messiah, the only one who would free them and bring them back into a time where God was with them. The pain of the disciples, who spent the last few years of their lives with Jesus. They got to know him and love him both as a man and as God. But he died. The one who promised everlasting life has died. What is blacker than that? What is darker than despair? What can possibly be worse than to have your hopes culminate onto one man, and watch him die before you, knowing that you had a hand in his death by your betrayal, your words, or your abandonment. Yes, Friday is Good for us all. But how very black it must have been that day. Maybe I think of it as Black Friday because it sets such a stark contrast to Easter Sunday. The joy of the resurrection is all the more powerful when it follows the darkness of the crucifixion. So yesterday was dark, and today is, too. The Catholic church also celebrates Easter for weeks after the actual day. Each Mass has a liturgical title signifying its place in the calendar, so you'll go into church and it might be "The Fourth Sunday of Easter." We should be filled with so much joy at the resurrection. And I always feel it more strongly when I understand the darkness before He rose. I can always connect it to the darkness in my life before Christ. Rachel Fruit and Labor I was raised Catholic, and while I no longer identify as such, there are some practices Catholics do that many Protestant denominations don't. One of those is the practice of confession.
Sure, I often found the practice of confessing to the priest rigid and intimidating. I usually lied, or talked about something insignificant to mask the things I knew I ought to confess. But at least it was something that we talked about. Confession was something important. I don't see a lot of emphasis on confession anywhere, really. Scripture talks about the importance of practicing confession, and bringing our sins into the light. But I rarely see it happening anywhere. We talk about "accountability partners" but those are generally reserved for people struggling with sexual sin. Most people going about their lives generally don't have accountability partners. I know I don't have one. So what then? I try and make a practice of confessing. Not every single little sin, because goodness knows that would be a lot of confessing. I'd spend all day confessing. I have too many wayward thoughts, too many sinful moments where my mind goes down a dark alley or my heart reveals exactly how polluted it is. But I try to confess things that linger. Things that, when I acknowledge that they are wrong and ask God to forgive me, don't go away. Like the spike of selfish jealousy I get when people run around asking others for help dancing and i'm passed by ("dancing is what I'M good at!"). Or even slightly bigger things, like when a certain godly man is starting to be very distracting and I can't seem to let it go. These are not the sort of sins you would get an accountability partner for, but I'd argue that they're just as important. Any sin that we allow to linger tends to gain power over us. And I've noticed that, the sooner I confess them, the sillier they sound when I say them out loud, and the more easily I can refute the lies I'm believing and turn back to God. Like I said, I don't have an accountability partner, which means I have a tendency to confess things without warning. I'll randomly announce to Anna, "I need to confess this. I get jealous sometimes when I see how much our friends fuss over you, and not me. It seems like they care more about you than me, and I know that's dumb, but I think I need to say it out loud so it doesn't make me bitter." And we'll talk about it and just the act of sharing helps me to let it go. She's gotten pretty good at rolling with my outbursts. I suppose the point of this post is that I think we ought to make a practice of confessing. It's easier to do when you have a mandated number of times you have to meet with the priest and confess your sins. It's admittedly harder in a Christian culture where, despite our praise of confession, we rarely practice it. But I challenge you (you 10 people who read my blog) to start a practice of confession with someone. It would be great if we had a culture where we all felt safe to confess our struggles without fear of condemnation. I've noticed an improvement in my own life. Rachel Fruit and Labor Hello friends. In case you didn't know, tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. I'm thinking about it a lot, and my friend Jenna says I don't update often enough, so here are some of my thoughts on the topic. It may be rather disorganized.
Perhaps it's because I was raised Catholic, where the liturgical year is a pretty big deal, but I like observing the lent. I've been spending the last few days trying to sort out a reading plan that will help me reflect upon this season of lent. I'm starting with this one here as a basic guide. I've also been listening to The Brilliance's Lent, as it really helps me "enter in" as Christians like to say. The purpose of lent as I think about it is a time of preparation. We prepare ourselves for Christ's death and resurrection. The whole idea of giving things up for 40 days reflects Jesus, and the way he spent 40 days in the desert fasting. Lent is a 40+ day fast, a sort of purification or centering upon Christ. Certainly we cannot cleanse ourselves--we can only be cleansed by Christ. But in lent we can help ourselves attempt to grasp our utter desperation, and in contrast, God's absolute and undeserved mercy in committing the most unjust act of bestowing his wrath upon Christ. Fasting helps us yearn for Christ to come first in our lives, and desire redemption both in ourselves and throughout the rest of the earth. The thing about fasting is, Scripture is pretty clear about not going about shouting it from the rooftops. When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. --Matthew 6:16-18 I applaud the idea of giving something up for lent as a way to focus on God. That's one of the purposes of fasting. I even agree with the idea of talking about it with others, and discussing whether you're finding it easy or difficult, keeping each other accountable, and talking about whether you are seeing God grow new things in you as a result. This can lead to a ton of worthy discussions, and why shouldn't brothers and sisters talk about what God is teaching them in order to bless one another? Go for it! We need more discussions like this! However, I don't agree with the notion of doing something for show. We aren't supposed to draw attention to the fact that we are fasting. This is hard because we can get prideful a number of ways. We can mention to everyone everyday how we've given something up, or that we're fasting from something during Lent. We can do the reverse, and look at someone and say, "She posted about how she's fasting on her blog! I heard him talk about fasting! Wow, how vain. What a Pharisee." Then we can think to ourselves, "I'm so glad I haven't told anyone. What a good Christian am I. I'm doing this fasting thing right." Well, sorry, if that's your thought process, you probably aren't. Fasting from anything should help us focus on God. I know personally that when I am able to really focus on God, I can't help but be awed by His goodness--and disgusted by my own sin in the process. Never do I realize how lowly I am than when I focus on God's majesty. Fasting helps me to do this. It helps me focus on Christ's love in His amazing sacrifice. And I certainly have absolutely no ground to call someone else a sinner when I'm covered in muck myself. There's nothing wrong about discussing how you plan to focus more on God during Lent. If that's through giving something up, then go for it. Invite someone to join you in that experience of tuning into the Spirit. One of the most amazing things about lent is how many people observe it. It's an entire Church turning towards God. How is that not beautiful and amazing? How can we not cry out in unison? It's an entire city repenting. It's an entire nation yearning for Christ. It's our unified desire for Christ to redeem our own bodies, our own spirits, and the earth. Let us be careful, brothers and sisters, that we don't make it about ourselves. After all, lent is a time to practice taking the focus off of ourselves and back to the incomprehensible love of God exemplified in Christ upon a cross. We prepare for the death of Christ, for the world left empty, and for his return. Just as you prepare for a feast by not eating for the day, let us prepare our souls for a feast of celebration at Christ's resurrection. Rachel Fruit and Labor I turned in my application for InterVarsity staff this week. This means thinking hard about my future post-graduation. It means dealing with the reality of my situation, knowing that I might not have any form of income for quite some time. Lately I've been reading the book of Ruth--it sort of seemed like God might have been poking at me to read it again, so I have been. One of the first sentences I read was in the little background blip at the beginning of my ESV: "Ruth was destitute and needing to rely on the kindness of other." That pretty much sets the tone for how relevant I've found that book. So much about faithfulness, about trusting God blindly into new lands and new territories. (No, nothing about Boaz. Settle down, people). Anyway, with everything going on, I know I should feel scared or freaked out. And in my head, I am. I think, Okay, so this isn't an ideal situation. Things are not the greatest. How will I deal with this? But emotionally, it's not touching me. It's like being on a darkened path. I'm holding a lantern that lights only my feet. I know that to go to either side means departing the path, and at the same time I can't see further than where I am right now. There's darkness all around me, encompassing me. It would be swallowing me but for the lantern. And I know the only way to go is forward. I said several months ago that this song articulated what I could see God doing. It's now like my anthem, always playing in the background of my mind. Rachel Fruit and Labor Sorry I haven't written, friends. I haven't had any thoughts worth sharing, but I don't want to get out of habit of posting on here. So here's a non-extensive list of things I've learned on break:
Terribly sorry about the rather unexciting post. Cheers to your winter breaks! Rachel Fruit and Labor |
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