Just ask for the ice cream

The other night I got a phone call from this girl. She & I met my junior year at 

CSU when I found myself leading her freshman bible study & desperately wanting

her to think I was cool. My plan worked, & we became fast friends, sharing a love for trail running, nutrition, Jesus, & the outdoors. Over the next four years, we built a friendship that I 

grew to deeply cherish. 

The phone call was short, & for the most part, insignificant. It was a welcome relief from the marathon

of paper writing I was participating in, yet I wasn't able to give it much time. I had briefly stepped outside of the coffee shop I was working at for the night, & before I had to return to my papers, I 

mentioned to her some of the prayer requests I had lately. She was familiar with most of them, &  I shared with her my frustration that nothing was really moving forward. 

She assured me that she would continue praying, &  I knew she meant it. It's a rare thing

to be able to fully trust someone in that way, & I have been recently reminded of the blessing

of friends who just know you like that. One of the last things she said to me is this: 

"Laura, just ask for the ice cream. It's what you want."

I've been thinking about it ever since. 

Out of context, it sounds a little bit bizarre. But the simplicity of the analogy contains

a profound truth about what I believe about God, & I am so thankful she pointed it out. 

Lately, when it comes to prayer, I approach God from a standpoint of, 

"If it is your will, do                        ." & there's nothing wrong with that. 

In fact, there's something beautiful about abandoning control through praying for God's

ultimate direction in your life. It helps me recognize how big he is & how small I am.

But somewhere in the process of wanting him to transform & awaken my desires,

I've lost the childlike anticipation of asking him for what I really want. 

It is easiest for me to envision God when I think of myself as his child, his daughter.

A child approaches her dad and says, "Dad, I want some ice cream." It's simple.

But instead, I find my requests sounding a little more like this: 

 "Dad, if you want to, could you maybe give me some ice cream?

It's totally fine if not, because it might hurt my stomach, or I might be allergic, 

or it will totally ruin my dinner plans, & I really don't want you to 

think I'm greedy, & actually, nope, I'm fine with what I have because 

you know what's best for me, & you probably would have given it to me 

already if you wanted me to have it." 

It's crazy, & all of the innocence & expectation of the request is robbed by my

inability to vocalize what it really is that I want. I fear the request itself,

 but what I really should be wondering is whether or not I am okay with

the answer I might receive. God has the power to say, "No." Because

maybe I am allergic, & maybe eating ice cream will be more detrimental to me than good.

Or maybe he'll say, "Sure thing. But how about you wait an hour, because you just

ate & you won't appreciate it fully in this moment." 

But maybe, he'll say, "Yes." & like any good dad, he is delighted by

my request with abandoned hope that he is good & he wants to give me

the desires of my heart. 

***

So here's to asking for what you want. Not the filtered, watered down

version of what you think you deserve, but what you really want. & here's

to expectantly seeking the answer with the full conviction that he is, indeed, a good dad. 

A look back: One year later

June 26th, 2012 was the scariest night of my life. 

That day and the days that followed changed me to my core. 

 If you missed the process one year ago, check it out here. 

Or here. 

Today, instead of remembering the fear I felt as I drove
from my neighborhood for what I thought was the last time, my heart is calm.
Instead of remembering the destruction that was left in the ashes, I am reminded of
the beautiful redemption that followed: the new life that is purer now, having been
refined and made new by fire.

"Behold, I am making all things new." 

What sweet truth. 

Prayers that have changed me [1]

As much as I enjoy blogging, I have spent much more of my life archiving things in a written journal.

There is something about using a pen and paper that forces me to slow down a bit &

be fully engaged in the art of documentation. 

My mom told me recently that I have kept a journal for as long as she can remember. 

I have not a single memory of a time when I wasn't keeping track 

of my thoughts, whether it be a quote scribbled on my hand [which I still frequently do]

or through my first online journal 11 years ago. 

[which is safely buried in the depths of the internet, 

only to be looked at when I need a quick ego demolition. Yikes.]

I have a box of old journals in my closet that I have written in throughout

my life, & it is honestly one of my most cherished possessions. 

One of my favorite things to write in journals are prayers. I find that writing

down prayers helps keep my wandering mind focused, & I enjoy 

looking back to see how God has answered each one of them- sometimes

in remarkable ways.

Since I've been lacking inspiration lately, I thought I'd come up with a new miniseries.
I want to flip through my old journals and find prayers, quotes, or entries that changed me.
I think it's important to pay attention to these things when I get caught up in the busyness of life.
That's where I am right now, & I think it'll be a good reminder that I am being continually sought by
a loving, personal God. It is my hope that these reflections will remind me of the dynamic,
exciting journey I am on.
  

Lessons on provision.

I found myself lying awake at 4 this morning, after a fitful few hours of attempted sleep. I got into bed completely exhausted, & it made little sense as to why sleep just wouldn't come.

My body, mind, & soul all felt restless in every sense of the word.  

My head raced through conversations, scenarios, & interactions I'd

had over the past couple days. If I'm honest in my introspection, I could say that I sort of knew a night

like this was coming. I spent most of the day unsuccessfully battling a heavy heart & I attempted sleep at the summit of the heartache. I hate sleepless nights like this, but lately

I've become more familiar with them. 

I can't help but relate to the words of this song:

"Even in my dreams, I am restless... looking for you."

It's strange how sleeplessness & the hours in the middle of the night can 

influence your perspective so deeply. As I sat in my bed, I felt a hopelessness fill

my bedroom, & every small thought on my mind- from my growing to-do list to

the deeper matters of my heart- seemed to be magnified by my exhaustion & lack of rest. 

In that moment, I was overwhelmed by my inability to control even the simplest thing

like sleep. 

I checked my phone in an attempt to distract my mind from my heart, 

& saw a text that said this: 

"God is our strength & our portion. He is more than enough."  

The timing & truth of those words was magnified in that moment, & as

that understanding grew, my mind slowly grew more clear.

For the first time since I had gotten into bed hours before, I felt myself relax. 

At 4 in the morning, in my dark, quiet bedroom, I felt my spirit change.

It is moments like these when I am paralyzed by God's timeliness & provision.

He uses such creative ways to speak to my heart, & it is truly beautiful. 

My prayer on this day is that I might consciously choose to return to that first

love that I have abandoned when I find myself hopeless or heavy-hearted.

It is my prayer for you, too. 

Where you started from

I've started 4 different blog posts in the past couple days. 

None of them will finish themselves. They're sitting as drafts, hopefully

not to stay that way, but as of today, that's where I'll leave them. I just can't

seem to find inspiration today. In a break from school work this morning, I 

stumbled upon this article about rediscovering your creativity. It was what I

needed to hear- that we need to start from our first love, what we cherish, 

what we are, what we value. It's long, but give it a read. It's beautifully written & insightful. 

It reminds me that there are days when creativity just isn't there, & that's okay. 

Words.

"To say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less... that's the whole art and joy of words."
C.S. Lewis
---

Lately I simply haven't wanted to write. There's probably a direct correlation between

this lack of desire & my lack of discipline in my spiritual life lately. It seems that my mind

is full of thoughts about all sorts of things, but without my

routine of hashing it all out with God, I just don't know what to do with it all. 

I hate it when I take a break from writing/processing. It always follows the same pattern. 

First, I  become busy. Then, the busyness turns into laziness

& before I know it, I don't know where to begin, & I contemplate closing this chapter, & 

not blogging anymore. [It's a bit dramatic, but it happens.] The longer I wait,

the more pressure I put on myself to write something substantial, something profound. 

Time goes by, & all of a sudden, I can't remember the lessons I've learned

or the beautiful moments that I wanted to capture in the first place, & it all seems so forced. 

But then I remember why I write. I remember that I love words.

I love the idea of saying the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less,
just the right thing. I can't say this happens to me often, but when it does, it's great.

So here's to breaking the silence, & writing even when I'm
uninspired,
un-profound,
& somewhat unimaginative at times.

Here's to being bold & honest.