Mary

I find myself every day finding a moment where I think, "Wow, God. I am here. California is my home. I am an adult in college. We made it." Even though it's been three months, I am still amazed by the grace and mercy I have received. It should not be this way - I should not be in a private university in Los Angeles County, surrounded by friends and mentors. I should not be finding myself joyful in the chaos and (if lucky) silence of living in community, functioning without a car; healthy on multiple levels; working my dream job and getting paid for it; living, eating, studying, sleeping, fellowshipping on the same piece of property. Heck, I should not even be alive.

Yet I sit here typing, slightly annoyed by the loud voices and laughter coming from the hall. I miss my quiet, yet somehow it is here where I have found peace. God is teaching slapping me in the face with a lesson on giving and receiving grace. Rather, I am to be filled with joy, knowing that He is seeing His children loving and laughing together in the hallway. Love means nothing if it does not include love of yourself, others, and God.

I feel like God ripped away all of my distorted delusions about love, trust, grace and forgiveness that I harbored before I knew His Son.

He left me raw, helpless, internalized, with little faith in goodness.

Maybe this is why I came out here.

Perhaps I ran away from the yuck, from the hurt, from myself.

Yet God has shown me that I can run from my sin, but I cannot hide. I have brought with me the same fears, the same temptations, the same pride, and the same lack of forgiveness that sucks the life out of me more than anybody else.

He is doing a work in my heart, allowing me to reflect and meditate on my past. It is when I open myself up to His challenges that I am best able to discover Him and discover myself. Wrestling is painful, but a necessary part of healing and maturity. Yet we are to remember that there is a place in us that no man can ever touch; it is sacred, for your and God's enjoyment alone. It is in this place that we are fully able to surrender ourselves to Him.

I feel like God is ripping away all of my distorted delusions about love, trust, grace, and forgiveness that I harbored even while I knew His Son.

He is leaving me raw and vulnerable, strong and confident, with faith in His goodness.

Maybe this is why I came out here.

Perhaps God drew me towards His love, His mercy, His promise, His Son.

All things rise by a winding staircase. Maybe God had to pull me out of my environment to give me perspective; He is the wonderful mystery. I have room here to think and reflect. Creating this new life on the other side of the country has allowed me to take a hard look at who I really am, who I really was, and who God wants me to be.

May I be Mary, strong enough to say "I am the Lord's servant, may your word to me be fulfilled," (Luke 1) when I am scared to pieces that my bills won't get paid, that I am being too vulnerable, or that I am being sent to Mexico. May I make my commitment without knowing where I am going or how I will get there. May I be Mary, blessed enough to have the Lord's presence overshadow me.

For all of this, I am blessed.