Tonight I finally got plugged in at my church and started attending a community group. We have a "midsized group", about 50 or so people, that mingle and get to know each other before breaking off into smaller, more intimate groups. Nothing too earth-shattering occurred, but, on the way home a few God moments took place.
Liz (my roommate) and I spent the entire day together- church, lunch, shopping, walk, community group. Our relationship is great, but we definitely have missed out on pushing each other spiritually and keeping each other accountable. At lunch we had a tear moment discussing how blessed we were with family (and how much we missed them!) and how we need constant reminders that God really is too good to us. Tonight, on the way home from group, we talked about how we fear we're "missing it". It's not that our faith has disappeared but more that its empty. We both feel that we are wasting our gifts (more on that later... I promise I will dedicate a post on my fervent belief in my spiritual gifts and my renewed need to use them). We talked about the past, those times in our lives that we truly felt most alive, using our gifts for God, letting Him use us.
Lately the importance of altars has been coming up in my life. Donald Miller writes about how altars aren't as much for God (doubtful a pile of rocks does much for Him) as they are for us. Reminders of where we were when God saved us, protected us, brought us through. I encourage you to make altars in your life. A letter, a blogpost, journaling, a picture. Whatever it may be, make permanent what God has done in your life. We are too flaky to remember everything.
Below is a letter I wrote before last Christmas (my senior year of college) to my college chaplain. This is one of my altars. To give a bit of a preview, my fall semester of senior year was a dark one. I found myself in a dark and depressed state, many days crying "God I don't feel you, but I won't doubt you. One day I'll find joy again." At one point, two of my friends actually had an intervention with me at Quizno's. I was in a dark place, but, like He always does- God came through. He is so faithful.
When you read this letter, think of me, my bold voice/attitude and sarcasm in the letter. It reads pretty well when you throw a sarcastic tone in there :)
Dear Corey,
I am writing you to inform you of the severe repercussions of your very first message in chapel this fall. You spoke of Ruth, her mother-in-law Naomi, and their faith in God. You challenged us with dayenu… You asked if our God was enough. Several times I was almost compelled to shout out loud “YES! God you are enough!” but I sat there silent, overjoyed at how my senior year was beginning. God was present that day, nudging so many of us to just grab hold of Him. I sat there during your prayer, saying over and over “God, you are enough for me. Dayenu. You’re enough.” I began to list out situations, bad circumstances that could possibly arise: if we don’t win in volleyball, dayenu; if I struggle with my grades, dayenu. I was so amped, so thrilled that my last fall semester was going to be unbelievable. I had no idea how unbelievable it would be…
Thanks to you (and that clever word that I am most likely spelling wrong), I dove in head first- to my devotions, my relationships, my studies. “You are enough God, dayenu!” And then it began. This was my senior season for volleyball, and it was one we all had looked forward to and worked so hard for. In preseason we looked unstoppable, all of us knowing our hard work would soon pay off. Things didn’t go according to plan. At the home opener, our MVP tears her ACL… “Am I still enough?” It was almost immediate that I heard it. “Of course you are, God. We can get through this.” Then the team fell apart. We lost more games this year than any other, not making playoffs for the first time I think in school history. As captain many times I was at a loss for words. God, what am I supposed to say? How do I lead them? Then I couldn’t even do that. Shoulder injury. Being as pumped about God being enough for me as I was, I recited that cute little word you taught us over and over again. “Dayenu. Dayenu.” It took three weeks for my doctor to clear me. “God, I don’t like this, but you’re enough. You’re enough.”
During all this something else was going on outside of volleyball. I hadn’t been feeling well all summer, and finally things came to a point that forced me to the doctor’s midseason. I left my doctor’s office with a harsh diagnosis and a prescription to “make me feel better in time.” This blow was a little harder, leaving a sting. This time I cried. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” When the tears were gone, the phrase was not. I found myself saying it in prayers, writing it in my journal, and even in letters to friends- “…But I’ll get through. God is enough for me.” Where is this COMING from?! I think it absolutely absurd for me to remember the first chapel of the year so vividly on almost a daily basis. Who would have thought the pain and suffering that would come from actually listening to our college chaplain?!
I wish that were it. I wish this was the part of the letter that I tell you regardless of what I went through (whether you can sense the humor I am attempting to throw into this letter or not) I do appreciate those words you spoke, and how you imbedded them into our brains… but it is not, because my recitations of “dayenu” are far from over. Where were we? Oh, right…
It’s my senior volleyball season and I just got cleared to play again. I traveled with the team one game but couldn’t play until the weekend at our overnight tournament in Connecticut. This was the one tournament we looked forward to all year. Then it happened. He wanted to know just how serious I was about that Him “being enough” thing. Oy. My roommate told me a girl who was over the night before called and said she just found out that she had lice. We went to the nurse to take precautions but, c’mon, she was in our room for 20, maybe 30 minutes… “This is what a nit looks like.” The nurse shows my roommate a strand of my hair exactly one hour before my team was to be leaving. I called my coach, crying. I couldn’t travel. Definitely not on an overnight. I wasn’t shouting “dayenu!” at this point, but I could hear it, in my heart. “Am I enough for you now?” “Give me a sec…” This, of course, was before the epidemic was recognized all over campus. Funny, God probably asked a lot of people that week the same question. “Are you sure I’m enough for you?”
So there I was, in my dorm room, crying over lice, a shoulder that was better but I couldn’t use (because I had lice), the fact that my team was going to bond without me, and that I couldn’t get that darn word I didn’t even know how to spell out of my head! “Dayenu, dayenu, dayenu...” Enough already! But, like before, it doesn’t end there.
Let’s fast-forward about a month to last week. Thanksgiving break had just ended and all I had to do was get through one week of classes and three finals. I got back to school Monday morning and while I was unpacking noticed weird spots on my neck. I didn’t think much of it, but day by day it spread a little more, and a little more, until it covered my entire upper body. With every day it getting worse I decided to get it checked out. Once again, I was at my doctor’s. Pityriasis rosea. Yeah, I don’t know how to say it either. It’s a rare viral infection that manifests itself through a rash and lesions on the body. Supposedly it’s harmless… personally I think it looks (and sounds) dangerous. And if you know anything about viral infections, you would know that antibiotics do not work therefore there is no treatment. How long does it last? 6-10 weeks. “It’ll run its course then leave the body.” My doctor is so knowledgeable. Run its course… 6-10 weeks… But she says there is no known cause.
I know exactly what causes it. Dayenu. A little word that packs a punch. I can’t even spell it, but it’s been doing quite a number on me. It has taken my health for the time being, upset my great plans of winning a championship, and has limited my wardrobe to turtlenecks and sweatshirts.
So I just wanted to say thank-you, Corey. Ha. I bet you’ve never received a thank-you letter like this! But I’m serious. When I came in this year I was ready for God to move, come in like wildfire and set this campus ablaze for Him. Hearing a sermon full of “you can do its!” would have left me defenseless and with nowhere to turn. So thank you for being obedient and speaking what I know the Lord put on your heart… even if it was just for me. But for future reference, you should really put a disclaimer on these catch phrases of yours.
In the God who really is all that we need,
Christina
When I sent this to my chaplain, I had no idea the reaction it would create. He supposedly (according to his wife) had it posted on his refrigerator at home. Knowing a student took something to heart that impacted their life so strongly really meant a lot to him. He needed it, and so did I.
I don't know about you, but I've needed to revisit my altars lately.
Are there any altars in your life that need revisiting?
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