For When You Forget Why

For When You Forget Why

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

I recently volunteered at a young adults conference (Fluid) and it almost blew my mind how spiritually dry I felt coming into it. Contrary to every Christian camp pep-talk or youth group spiel you've ever heard - sometimes a spiritual high is the TLC you need to get back on track and open your heart up. A little wash in God's goodness and mercy, seeing what he's doing in the lives of others - and dare I say it - cool lights - get me really pumped up and energized. And at this point in time, I really, really need it.

I've been talking on the blog lately about losing track of my purpose - the why I do what I do. When you're involved in ministry (or really, if you genuinely love and want to serve any kind of human being at all), it's very easy to become familiar with the kind of numbness people feel when they're dedicating a lot of their time to helping others. Disappointment is something you know all too well. Heartbreak is common. The sleepless nights, the anxiousness, the effort that it takes to keep your eyes open and your heart wide - it can be crazymaking and devastating when kept up for a long time. It's really easy to tune out and just say what you need to say. Textbook answers that generally help but don't quite hit the nail on the head require less energy than speaking into an individual as an individual. And we all do it. Or - even worse - we take the time to care and minister and speak life into someone, and it makes no difference. As I said in my last post, loving people is really hard. Especially when you're weary, and they're the third person to have a crisis that day, and you feel like nobody is really, actually, hearing and valuing you. You get into a rhythm of service that's really just glorified puppeteering. And when I get to that spot, it eats me up a little inside.

I've been reading in II Corinthians, and I find myself relating to Paul's words.

11 Oh, dear Corinthian friends! We have spoken honestly with you, and our hearts are open to you. 12 There is no lack of love on our part, but you have withheld your love from us. 13 I am asking you to respond as if you were my own children. Open your hearts to us! - II Corinthians 6:11-13

 The context of this plea comes after Paul is describing a lot of the difficulties and struggles that a lot of us know really, really well in ministry.

I don't know about you - but when I read this, I can feel it. I understand Paul's desperation. Why aren't my words making a difference to these people? Why isn't my heart enough? What more can I do before I fall off the edge? I may never have been beaten, put in prison, or faced angry mobs... but everything else? Sounds pretty familiar.

There's a lot in this chapter, but two of the things I'm trying to hold onto as I grow are that 1) God's power is continuously working in me, and 2) Even though my heart aches, I can still have joy. Neither of these are rocket science, or new information, for that matter. It might not be the revelation you were looking for. But every so often, I know that I need a bare-boned and simple reminder. I need to go back to the why of why I do what I do. I need to know that God hears me, God sees me, and I will be okay.

When you forget why you're doing it, let Paul's honesty wash over you. Nobody said it was easy. Anyone who says its comfortable is probably high as hell. Sometimes you have to push away the platitudes and get to the heart of the matter - we live close to death, but we are still alive. If you're in the same place I am, I would love to encourage you. Your faithfulness is not in vain. You are making a difference. You have everything you need.

If you need to talk to somebody who might know what it's like to be in the same spot, please reach out at purposeofgraceblog@gmail.com or send me a DM on my Instagram. You aren't alone.

xoxo, Beth

I Suck At Loving People

I Suck At Loving People

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Photo by Chris Ouzounis on Unsplash

Loving people is hard.

I've been thinking a lot about seasons. I'm in a really cool season right now. But there's a lot changing and a lot of advice, a lot of opinions about who I should be and what my life should look like - and they're not necessarily all helpful or kind. Being a student, trying to plan a wedding (by the way - I'm getting married?!), juggling different responsibilities and ministries and still having the time to be the image of something that people expect me to be - is really hard. And I've learned a lot of ugly things about myself.

One of them is that I really suck at loving people.

When I'm drowning in fabrics and thinking about that paper due next week and stationary samples and guest lists and final dates and events and personal health and a long distance relationship and bills and activism and ministry and how I haven't even written in weeks, I get really angry when someone asks me to do something else. Or I get really angry when someone comes to me and complains about the two things they have to do that day. And I know it's awful. That's why I mask it with a sweet smile and a head nod and a, "Yeah, wow, that must be tough. I'll be thinking of you." And then I call my fiance and complain, or I roll my eyes once they leave the room, until I get fed up with myself and I feel that ouch in my belly that lets me know I'm on the verge of becoming numb. I'm on the verge of not really giving a crap about what other people are going through, and wallowing in my own self pity. I have to remember that sometimes, living in this world can be really hard.

People are complicated. Being complicated is really hard.

Battling cynicism after every disappointment, every little hurt, every failure, is really hard.
Hoping and believing the best of someone, over and over (no matter what they do), is really - really really really - hard.
Seeing good people - godly people - miss the point of it all is really hard.
Feeling the weight of responsibility, looking at your innermost failings, and battling other people's perceptions of you is really hard.
Making unpopular choices - even about things that you know are right - is really hard.
Stepping back after giving something everything is really hard.

And all of these hard things are very, very human things. I've been through these things. People I know and love deeply are going through these things.

If you're feeling any of these right now, I'm with you. Breathe deep, little beans. These past few months I've realized that sometimes it's really easy to forget my purpose. I forget why I'm even doing what I'm doing. I get angry at myself when I don't see results right away. I get angry that people don't see my problems, my anxieties, and then I treat them badly because I don't actually want to see theirs, either.

My selfish little heart is going to get broken a lot. I want it to keep breaking. I don't want that tough outer shell of cynicism or self-pity or arrogance to keep people out. I want to love people. I want to let them in. Part of that is loving even when I don't feel like it. Part of that is practicing a consistent change in my attitude. And this is really important - it doesn't mean I shove my own feelings down. It means I do my best to genuinely care - with whatever strength I have at the time. It means I find people to lean on, it means I lift others up even when I don't have the answers.

Remember to take care of yourself. Take steps back to breathe and rest and reevaluate and make a plan. Give yourself space if you have too. But once you're ready - you have to come back. We don't empty ourselves to stay empty forever. We empty ourselves to get filled back up again. It's a rhythm of rest that I don't have down and perfected yet. But as I work at it, as I grow, as I become better, as I open up - it's going to become a part of who I am. If you're constantly pouring out, make sure you have loving people pouring in. If you feel yourself getting bitter, ask yourself why. Don't use it as a shield so you don't have to get hurt again. Use it to love other people better, no matter what, for where you're at.

xoxo, Beth

New Things to Come.

New Things to Come.

Friday, February 2, 2018

It's been two years of this lovely, challenging blog journey. I've learned a lot about myself. I've learned a lot about people.

As I've grown and become more myself, I've realized there are a lot of things I'm passionate about. Always God. Always people. That's always first. But I'm also passionate about art. Culture. Travel. Food. Music. I'm passionate about my own, more creative, writing.

I'm not saying that things are going to change dramatically and I'm no longer going to be writing about ministry or spirituality or church culture. I'm still going to write about those things. They're my heart. But you might see things on my favourite artists, or design work that I do (fun fact - I'm not just a bible reading barista). You might see posts pop up about recipes or restaurants. This past year I've done a lot of travelling - you'll probably see more of that too!

All I'm saying is - expect new things to come. Big things are happening. My life is changing, and I want to invite you all in.

Stay tuned, darlings.

xoxo
Beth.