Just ask for the ice cream [The follow-up]

"These things-the beauty, the memory of our own past- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers.  For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."

-CS Lewis in The Weight of Glory

***

Recently, I wrote a post about asking for what you truly want. What started as a simple conversation quickly turned into something much bigger, and before I knew it, I was receiving a lot of feedback on the topic.  For whatever reason, the post climbed in readership, where it sits second only to a post about  this website.

[Disclaimer: if you know nothing about Maddie the coonhound, or 

Theron Humphrey's current project, 

stop reading this and start reading that. It's much more interesting, I promise.]

***

I never thought the topic was particularly profound- in fact, I felt mildly guilty that people were sharing it under my name.  The concept was not original to my mind- I simply decided to write it down. But I think I get it. I think we all like the idea that we might get what we want. We want to believe that our desires matter, and sometimes good things just happen. Our human nature is programmed to receive more naturally than to give, yet we spend much of our lives fighting grace and good things that come because we think we should.  I think it's a beautifully intricate concept to learn how to accept gifts, and it was refreshing to think that sometimes, it okay just to ask for what we really want, and even more beautiful to experience hopeful anticipation.  

But here's the thing: I didn't get what I wanted.  It's weird to want something so badly & not get it. Sometimes we can want something for an extraordinary amount of time, to the point where we are consumed by the desire for it. Other times, we simply wake up one day & realize that we just don't want it any more. The latter is a bizarre experience, because in the days that followed, I found myself genuinely contemplating whether or not I actually had ever wanted it in the first place. Desires of the heart are complicated like that.  The past few weeks, I've been thinking about what I want. Here's what I've concluded: 

Even when I get what I want, it just doesn't fulfill me. I want what's next & I will always want what's next. My desires are cheapened when they are always granted.  My prayer is that God would not necessary grant for me what I ask from him. Instead, I pray he awakens & transforms my desires by giving me himself- my deepest, yet unrecognized desire. I pray that this transformation allows me to turn from the wells that I believe give me life & reveal to me a fountain which fulfills me beyond what I am aware I want or need.  Breathing freedom from want-for the first time, or for the hundredth time- is a beautiful thing. 

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. 

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. 

Mental Health & Brokenness

“There are some who take anti-depressants and communion and there are those who think both are a crutch.” –Ann Voskamp

Last Saturday, upon hearing the news that Rick Warren’s son had committed suicide after a long battle with depression and mental illness, my heart broke.  My heart broke for his family & those who knew him well, & my heart broke for the realization of depravity, that death always seems to reveal. Despite our efforts to recognize the beauty that can result after it is over, death is never a pretty thing.

Humans weren’t meant to suffer.

Humans weren’t meant to take their own lives.

Humans weren’t meant to die.

           But as it often does, heartbreak reveals the disintegration of what was meant to be.  Hearts weren’t meant to break. But they do, & their brokenness mirrors a broken world that will continue to break, aching to be redeemed. On Saturday, I found myself painfully aware of my desire for redemption here. I wanted it now.

          When I chose to pursue occupational therapy, I knew that mental health would be a world I would become submersed in. Despite my habituation to the topic, hearing about these tragedies never gets easier for me. & I hope it never does.  As I first sat down to write this post, I wanted to talk about the broader scope of public opinion behind mental health. But after reading comment after comment about how this man’s death could have and should have been prevented-most lacking a shred of compassion or understanding for the complexity behind depression & mental illness- I changed my mind. I couldn’t handle the stigmas I found, the ignorance, or the lack of sensitivity for such a painful subject. My cynicism didn’t need the fuel. Instead, I found myself thinking about the bigger picture. Not everybody is depressed. Not everybody wants to take his or her own life. But everybody is broken.

He is.

I am.

You are.

Thoughts like this keep me up at night, but thankfully, that is not the end of the story.  All week, I’ve been thinking about the conclusion that is yet to come—the redemption that I feel my heart longing for, where there is no more death, longing, or pain.  My heart aches for it now, but I can rest in the promise that it is coming. 

“Light pried through the dark. A shaft came through the window like a lifeline.  & The birds sang, & we heard them.” 

Confronting the Lie

Two posts in one day. Sometimes I come across an article that I simply have to share.

This one discusses hardship [as most of the articles I've come across & related to recently have.]

It is beautifully honest & full of truth-

two things I deeply desire to be. 

Whether you are in a season that is difficult & dry, 

or one of fruitfulness & joy, this is a good reminder. 

Check this out. 

Defeating the Sunday Blues.

Just about every week, despite the relaxation & fun that I take part in

over the weekend, I find myself heavy hearted & often overwhelmed by the 

prospects of the coming week. It begins as early as Saturday night on

particularly busy weeks, & I am often awakened by thoughts

of what I've got to do swirling through my head early Sunday morning.

No matter what I tell myself about how I've worked hard to prepare

myself for the day of rest that Sunday should be, I can't seem

to grasp it. Hours slip by as I stare at my computer screen of notes,

 word documents, weekly planner & text books. Before I know it, 

I'm dreading the idea of sleep because I know it'll bring me closer

to the work I've got to do during the week. 

Today, my version of the "Sunday Blues" wasn't particularly

strong. The assignments, commitments, & plans of the coming 

week pressed on my mind as they always seem to do, 

but for the first time in a while, I was more hopeful than anxious

about the coming days. I felt comforted in the now, & for 

someone who is characterized by living in the future, this

is a big deal. 

"Instead of trying to direct me to do this & that, seek to attune 

yourself to what I am already doing. When anxiety attempts to

wedge its way into your thoughts, remind yourself that I am your

shepherd. The bottom line is that I am taking care of you." -Jesus Calling

Here's to Sunday reminders that leave you filled with hope. 

A letter in my mailbox.

I don't generally struggle with the idea that my prayers

might be falling on deaf ears. In fact, I honestly believe that faith

has become one of my stronger gifts throughout the last couple years.

I have had very real experiences in my life in which prayer has been 

answered. Not by coincidence, not by chance.

But for whatever reason, I've really struggled lately accepting the truth

that He not only hears me, but he acts on what He hears. It seems

I've been a broken record with my prayers for almost a year now. Just typing that 

sentence makes me feel a bit foolish- I know that some people spend 

their entire lives repeating the same prayers, never to see the answer 

in their lifetime. But it's still how I feel.

I think of Joshua and how he asked God to

keep the sun from setting & God did. & I think, surely God could

just change things if he wanted to. So why doesn't he? Questions

like this do sometimes keep me awake at night, but I'm getting better

at seeing answered prayers in ways I am not expecting. 

Yesterday, I experienced one of those moments in which I 

was just certain that I'm being heard. It came in the form of 

a letter in my mailbox. Pretty much everything about

 the letter- the sender, the topic, the timing-

made me realize that God is moving in my life. 

I desperately want to hold onto these moments.  

Truth.

Sometimes allowing myself to think too hard

is a bad thing. I don't want to sit down & write

lies. So I'm deciding tonight to sit down & write truths. 

"You need not to fear the future, for I am already there.

Your future is in my hands. I release it to you day by day,

moment by moment. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow.

I want you to live this day abundantly. Don't be distracted by

future concerns. Receive abundant life which flows freely from My

throne of grace." 

[Matt 6, John 10, James 4]

Let that be enough. 

It might not be the prettiest thing that you'll ever see

...but it's a new day.

It's been raining for hours. Where this rain was 2 weeks ago when 

the entire state was on fire, I'll never know. However, there is rain 

& the earth is starting to look happy again around here. 

I can't help but feel like the rain is symbolic for so much more than

watering the ground. It is the beginning of life for what was just burned

very badly. It is nourishment for what survived, & it is a softening agent

for what has solidified under the heat of the fire. 

I won't lie. This season of life has been more painful

than I could have ever imagined. Some times I just

want to say "enough is enough," & become angry because it 

doesn't seem fair that so much could be lost in such a short period of time.

But all I can hear now & have been hearing for the past 2 months is this:

"Be patient." 

There are so many things
that these 2 words could mean, but at this moment in time,

that's all I'm getting. & I refuse to try to decode what I'm not yet 

ready to understand. So until these 2 words start to make more sense,

I'll take them for face value & wait. 

Washed by the water

This song is a good reminder. 

Even when the rain falls.

Even when the flood starts rising. 

Even when the storms comes, 

I am washed by the water. 

My prayer this morning.

[abide.]

I have heard this word.

I have studied this word.

But today it is new to me. 

As I consciously abide in Him, 

I am free from the power of my old nature.

In this [divine freedom] from self will, I am

F   R  E  E

to ask God for what I want, 

being influenced now by my new nature. 

& God will do it.

Let me treasure this place of freedom

through abiding in Christ-

and believe that my requests right now are heard

and will be answered. 

-roughly paraphrased from Andrew Murray

Instrument of Peace

I made these for one of the girls I meet with. I thought I'd share. They're all prayers that have changed my life. I'm thinking about putting together a book of all of them and asking others to join me. They're a bit difficult to read on here, but it's all inspired from Brennan Manning's Ragamuffin Gospel Visual Edition.