Beyond the Shore: Hawaii

Hello, beloved blog-reader friends! 

I have very exciting news... I'm moving to Hawaii! 

I've created another blog now through which I will be sharing specifically my passion to serve in Hawaii, my journey of preparation to go there, and ultimately my experiences there. 

My "Beyond the Shore" blog is now officially up and active. 

Which essentially means... It's story-time! 

I've been working on creating it since March (yes, I've been preparing for this move to Hawaii for a while) and I now have the first few chapters of my story written and posted now. Head over there and check them out if you'd like! I'm excited to share my journey with you all! 

Enjoy and may you be blessed by it. 

beyondtheshorehawaii.blogspot.com

Me ka aloha nui loa,

With much love,

Julia

28 Things I've Learned from Dating Myself

Yesterday was a beautiful glorious Sunday afternoon and I went to the Cheesecake Factory by myself. It was pretty awesome. My lunch was delicious and my chocolate, coconut, pecan cheesecake was almost heaven on earth. 

But while there, I stopped to think about my life. This past summer, I've begun a personal challenge of dating myself and I've learned a lot from it. A lot about myself and a lot about being single in life. And here's what I've learned:

28 Things I've Learned from Dating Myself

I've learned that it takes a lot of confidence. It can be very uncomfortable going into a nice restaurant and asking for a table for one. 

I've learned that you will spark curiosity. It's only natural. 

I've learned that you will spark sympathy and you might be mistaken as recovering from a painful breakup. 

I've learned that ultimately though, most people don't care as much about you dining by yourself as you think they do. It's only your self-centered pride making you feel insecure, feeling like everyone's noticing you and talking about you. 

I've learned that dating yourself causes you to meet young men and get to know them and hear their life stories. It's just part of how life works. And I won't lie, when using good sense, that can be really fun meeting new people and exchanging stories with total strangers. 

I've learned that it's okay to dress up for yourself just because you feel like it. Wear the red heels and lipstick if you want to. 

I've learned that dining alone means you don't have to share your food or your dessert. 

I've learned that you should always get dessert. Even if you ONLY get dessert... always get dessert. Learn to treat yourself on occasion. 

I've learned that you should always tip generously. It feels good to be kind. 

I've learned that you should always be polite and gracious to your server. It marks the character of a well-bred woman of dignity and grace and it's a good representation of Christ. 

I've learned that you aren't alone. There are lots of other people who go out alone and more who want to but don't. 

I've learned to put the phone down. We've become a generation that picks up our smartphones in any moment of boredom or loneliness. It's a hard habit to break, and at first, you'll gravitate to your text messaging or social media to escape from feeling awkward and self-conscious. But eventually, put the cell phone down and learn to enjoy your own company and the sound of silence. 

I've learned that if you want to take a picture of your food, then take it. I promise you, the people around you really don't care as much as you think they do. 

I've learned that it's freeing. Dating yourself isn't something that everyone does and it's freeing breaking the mold of society and embracing your single season of life. It's freeing going where you want to go, chasing after the adventures you want, even if that means doing it alone. 

I've learned that life is too short not to be intentional and not to let loose. It's okay to do some things purely for the experience and the memory. It doesn't always have to be practical. 

I've learned that you gain some wonderful stories to tell. 

I've learned that your loved ones will worry that something's wrong with you. You'll worry that something's wrong with you. That's natural. I promise there's nothing wrong with you for being okay going out by yourself and enjoying- even needing sometimes- to be alone with your own company. 

I've learned that it's more important to capture a memory in your mind and your heart- to remember what you thought, what you felt, to soak in everything with all of your senses- than it is to have a picture to show for it afterwards. Not every moment needs to be shared with the world. That's what makes some memories so special: they're really and truly only yours.

I've learned that dating yourself gives you a lot of time to think and to reflect and to figure out what you really want in life. And that's healthy. 

I've learned that I can be single for the rest of my life. But I really don't want to be. 

I've learned that dining out is a lot more fun when you have someone to talk to and listen to and laugh with. When you have someone smiling at you from across the table. When you have a familiar pair of eyes to look into. 

I've learned that being a single twenty-something-year-old young adult isn't everything it's made out to be. We live in a society that views independence as something to be coveted. It isn't everything. The first time dating yourself is exciting and you feel bold and adventurous. But the novelty wears off quickly. 

I've learned that independent people who are mature and truly content don't talk up how great their life is. Those people are usually the people who are lonely and trying to get other people's validation to convince themselves that their life on their own alone is glamorous. 

I've learned that on average, dating yourself is lonely. Very very lonely. And that it's okay to feel lonely. It means that you're human and you have healthy emotions. 

I've learned that there are somedays when you really want to go out but you're so desperate not to be alone that you'd invite anyone to go with you just so you don't have to go out alone again. Don't make a fool of yourself in these rare desperate moments. 

I've learned that even the most introverted person needs connection to other people. We need to be connected to people. It's the way that God created us to be. 

I've learned that life is better when you have someone to share it with. Time alone only makes you appreciate and enjoy the time with your loved ones even more. 

BUT... dating myself has also taught me that I'm never really truly alone. 

I'm never alone. 

Because my God has promised me as His child that He will never leave me nor forsake me. (Hebrews 13:5)

Because I can declare "Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 

"If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. 

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,' even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you." (Psalms 139:7-12)

He is my Help in times of trouble. He is my Courage in times of fear. He is my Comforter. And He loves me and delights in me. I will praise Him for He is faithful and His name is glorious and magnificent. 

He is my Counselor. He is my Father. He is my Friend. He knows me by name and keeps count in His book every tear I cry and every hair on my head. He knows me intimately and all of His thoughts toward me are precious. He is kind. He is love. He is full of mercy and grace anew every morning. 

I've learned that often it's in the moments when no one else is around that I feel His presence with me the most.

My God is ever present, always beside me. Whether in Georgia or whether in Hawaii. I know He is with me. And I am never truly alone. 

Life is a Gift

In honor of National Suicide Prevention Day...

Throwback to that one night in early August of last year... when I considered suicide. 

Yes. Me. The young woman who is known for her happy laugh and her smile. Who has an incredible life. Who is known by her friends for loving unconditionally and for having steadfast faith in the hardest times of impossibility. 

Yes. Me. 

I was under depression that night. That morning I had received an unexpected blow to my faith and I was finally alone in the darkness of my bedroom. In the silence. Alone with my thoughts. 

And a spiritual battle began in the heavenly realm as I laid there, spiraling into a dark place my thoughts should've never gone. 

I considered for just a moment what life would be like if I wasn't there. I considered it. I considered how IF I were to kill myself, how I would do it. Every way that came to my mind was violent and I can't stand physical pain. Thankfully. 

And I thought of someone who I loved. Someone who would blame themselves when they would hear that I had killed myself. I couldn't let that person live with that guilt for the rest of their life. I wouldn't. 

So I went to sleep. I realized I was tired, emotionally drained, and vulnerable. And I wasn't thinking clearly. So I went to sleep. 

That night as I slept, the Lord caused an acquaintance, oblivious to the details of my personal life, to wake up twice from a dream in which I had committed suicide. To wake up and to pray for me as a battle between Light and Darkness raged for my soul in the spiritual realm.

The next morning, I awoke and life was the same. I still had a lot of hurt and forgiveness to work through. I still had a lot of tears to cry. I still had a lot of nights spent on my knees in praying asking "Why?" I still had a lot of days of doubting and I still had a lot of discouragement. 

But I'm still here. And life went on. I healed. I'm whole again today. I still love. I still hope. I still dream for the future tomorrow. I'm still standing here in faith, praising Jesus. 

No, I'm not suicidal. I had never really considered suicide before; I never have since. But the Enemy is a master at playing mind games in a single moment of weakness and all it takes is one moment. Having a single suicidal thought does not make you mentally ill or less "righteous" and "holy." It means you're struggling, you're in a spiritual battle, and you need help because you can't fight back alone. Talk about it. Pray about it with someone. It's real and it isn't something to be ashamed of. Suicide should not be a taboo. 

Life is hard sometimes. It can be hard emotionally and spiritually. Life isn't perfect. Life doesn't always turn out the way that we think it should. 

But no matter how you feel or what you think or what is going on in your life, you are a BEAUTIFUL person who is LOVED extravagantly by the One Who knows how to love you best. You are still worth being loved, regardless of any reason you can think of. You have purpose. You were not put here on this earth by happenstance. You have LIFE and DESTINY and there's someone somewhere out there in this world who needs YOU. Who needs your love, who needs your testimony, who needs the difference Jesus Christ can bring to their life through YOU. 

You are an INCREDIBLE human being and nothing- I said NOTHING- is worth giving that up and allowing the Enemy to have his way. You are still precious and valuable and worth more than you know. Your life is a gift. 

#nationalsuicidepreventionday #helpsavealife

Psalm 139

"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. 

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 

You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all of my ways. 

Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. 

You hem me in- behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 

If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. 

If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,' even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. 

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. 

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. 

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. 

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. 

When I awake, I am still with you. 

Search me, O God, and know my heart... lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139:1-18, 23, 24

Failure?

I opened the restaurant yesterday morning. It was 6:20 when I parked my car in the Chick-fil-A parking lot. The sky was still dark like the dead of night and it seemed the whole world should've still been sleeping. 

Yesterday was a pretty typical morning at work. 

Until two ladies walked through the front door. 

They were both deaf. 

I was in the dining room as usual and as I greeted them "good morning," I received no acknowledgement. I watched them signing to each other and then communicating their order to my coworker at the register without saying a word. And that's when I realized. They couldn't hear or speak. 

Something jolted awake inside of me. A few of you know that I took two years of an American Sign Language course as my foreign language in high school. I'm not fluent in it- I never was fluent in it though and I never had much real practice with it. 

But those years of learning came back to me in a heartbeat and I felt led to go and speak to them in their own language. In sign language. 

My heart started beating faster. I started feeling anxious. Nervous. Scared. What if I messed up? If I made a mistake? What if they couldn't understand me? What if I made a fool of myself? What if my memory failed me? What would they think, me trying to communicate with them in their language? Would they think I was weird?

I was so afraid to go over and try talking to those ladies. But I was reminded of how I would feel if I spoke a different language and someone tried talking to me. Even if the person didn't speak my language perfectly, I would appreciate the effort they were making. And how foolish is it, I was reminded, to learn a language and never use it?

So I gathered my courage and approached the table where the women sat eating and signing to each other. I greeted them "good morning," I asked if everything was good, I asked if they needed their drinks refilled. They understood me fine. And we exchanged a smile. It was as simple as that. 

But as I escaped to the restroom afterwards (as I always escape to the restroom anywhere anytime I need to regain my composure and quiet my nerves), I felt the Lord remind me that it's foolish to learn a language and to never use it, yes. But it's also just as foolish to have a gift and never put it to use. 

God has given each of us gifts, talents, abilities. But too often we allow fear to keep us from using those gifts to minister to others. We have the gift of salvation and eternal life in Jesus. But too often we allow fear to keep us from sharing that gift with others. 

Fear of people's opinions, what they might think. Fear of making a mistake. Fear of failure. 

We're afraid of FAILING.

But why are we so afraid of failure?

As I read once, failure is only a sign that you were brave enough to try something. 

And what if maybe "failure" doesn't even exist? If you try something, learn something from it, walk away better and wiser and stronger... Is it really a failure? Or is it ultimately still a success?

Maybe it's time that we stop being afraid of taking risks and trying something. That we step out and put to good use the abilities and talents that we've been blessed with without worrying of making a mistake. Let yourself be a beginner. Nobody starts off in anything as an expert. Maybe it's time that we stop being so afraid of what people might think and openly, fearlessly, share the greatest Gift known to man. 

Daring to Love ISIS

It was this time last year. A few months earlier. And ISIS was first making its broad debut in the media.

And I was faced with the reality of martyrdom for the first time.

The reality. The possibility. Perhaps even the probability.

Since I was thirteen years old, death has never frightened me. I'm not afraid of the thought of dying. The way I view death is that the Lord will never allow me to die unless He's finished using me here on this earth. So when I do die someday, I'll die knowing that I've completed the work He has for me to do here. That I've fulfilled my purpose here. And if I know that, then I will be content dying. I know where I'm going when I die. I'm going to see Jesus Christ face-to-face and to live without barriers or limitations in His presence for eternity. Why should I fear death?

"O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" (1Corinthians 15:55)

But martyrdom.

Martyrdom is a different story.

Hearing of the rise of ISIS and of the persecution just beginning overseas disturbed me spiritually. I felt imminence weighing in my spirit. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before that persecution would too reach our own shores.

Time after time, I could close my eyes and see a vision of myself, back against a wall with a gun pointed at my chest, being posed with a question. "Are you a follower of Jesus?"

And I didn't know what I would say.

Would I say "yes"? Yes, I am a follower of Jesus Christ, the One True Living God. Yes, I am a Christian. Would I say "yes," knowing that the moment those words slipped through my lips, a trigger would be pulled and my life would end in a matter of seconds. Or what if death was prolonged? Even more, would I hold true to my faith in the face of suffering and pain? In the face of persecution of every form?

The more that vision appeared in my mind though, the more accustomed I became to it until I knew the answer to that question I asked myself. Yes. Yes, I would hold true to my faith and to my God. Yes, I would declare myself to be a follower of Jesus, even if that confession led me to my death. I'm not afraid of martyrdom anymore. I'm not afraid of persecution. Morbid as it may be perhaps, I still think of that vision often and imagine myself in that situation and it doesn't scare me anymore. I've accepted it. I know I would be terrified in the moment and I can't imagine its atrocities, but I'm okay with it now. I'm okay with the idea of losing my life for my faith and I am willing and prepared to die for my Lord and Savior if my life ever comes to that. I want my life to bring glory to God and draw others to Him. And if it's in my death that that would best be done, then so let it be.

But I had greater fear still.

And that greater fear was of being married and having a family. And of losing my husband and children for our faith.

I feared ever watching my husband be murdered for believing in Jesus and for standing up for his faith. I feared seeing my children lose their life because we are Christians. How would I pick up the pieces again after such a thing? How would I move on? How would life continue after losing someone I would love so much?

I didn't know if that was a chance I even wanted to take. Maybe it would be better if I just never married. Maybe it would be better if I never conceived and brought forth into this world children who would be subjected to the kind of persecution and difficulties that lie ahead in this life now for all of us who proclaim to be followers of Christ.

What's more, what young man my age in our modernized society of American comforts would even think as I do? Would even be considering the same possibility of death. Would even be wrestling to come to terms with martyrdom for our faith the way that I was. Would put himself in the same such scenario as I did and ask himself the same question of the decision he would make. I knew that if I ever were to marry, I would need a man who I could support. A man who I knew would be willing to risk our family's safety and security, who would be willing to risk losing his job, losing our home, losing everything we have, who would be willing to lose his very life for the sake of standing up for our beliefs and holding true to Jesus. A man who I could stand beside and who together we would support each other through whatever difficult times and doubts that we would encounter as a family, being strong for each other to lean on when the other was weak and questioning our decions in the face of persecution and want. In the face of seeing our children reaping too the consequences of our decision to stand firm in our faith and not compromise. What young man would be at a place to make such an equal level of commitment and sacrifice as I had come to terms with?

So I prayed. I prayed that if it was indeed God's will for me not to remain alone, that He would prepare a young man for me who thought as I thought about persecution, who felt as I felt about martyrdom, who would give up his life as I would give up mine. I prayed for my future husband. And I pushed the fear aside in my mind and forgot about it.

But earlier in this year, a few months ago, I was reminded of that fear. The prayers I had long ago forgotten about now returned to my memory and with it, that fear. That fear that a year before, I had never quite dealt with.

It returned and haunted me.

It plagued my mind and began corroding my faith.

I closed off my heart. I considered the decision to stay single. To never marry. To never have children. To never risk the possibility of losing someone so much a part of me.

I began pouring myself, my energy, every ounce of my time, into my work. A distraction. A safe place. A place where I didn't have to think and face the reality of my emotionally running away. I was a run-away.

I became disconnected from those around me. I grew irritable. I grew to feel isolated. And I grew to convince myself that my withdrawing was better for myself and for others. That it was safer and more certain of never bringing hurt.

But the Lord began a work in me, healing me and freeing me from the bondage of my own fears I was running from.

I realize now that love isn't something to run from. Love isn't what induces pain: love is what conquers it. Love is what conquers all.

I can't run away. If I tried, I would be running away from the very Person Who I've committed myself to to my death. Because God IS Love. (1John 4:8)

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38&39)

Love requires sacrifice and that sacrifice may someday be grieving the loss of my husband or children. It may be watching them persecuted and suffer and killed for the sole reason of being a follower of Jesus. A Christian. But I can't live my life in fear of what may be. I can't live my life running away, trying to escape feeling a hurt I never want to know. I can't. We were not made to live held hostage to fear and trepidation.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." (2Timothy 1:7)


A video was shared with my church young adult small group several months ago, in April. The video that brought back to surface my fears, my prayers, my past envisonment of the trials ahead that are to come. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSv4vBcFyvo&feature=youtu.be

I've watched the video many times since. And every time, like the first time, something stirs within me. Something from somewhere deep within me is drawn to tears. My spirit cries when it watches this video.

Because it overwhelms me.

Because it overwhelms me with a swell of love that rises within me.

A swell of love for ISIS.

I am an enemy of ISIS. I am the person they would behead. The person they would rape. The person they would burn alive. I am that person.

But as the months have worn on since the Lord has been working on my heart, I have come to feel a love in my heart for these people I once hated with everything within me. A love for these radical jihadists. A love for these people who would persecute and kill my family and me. Who have killed countless people just like me.

Maybe I should feel anger toward them. Maybe I should declare that they should be annihilated and wiped out, as I've seen other believers cry out. Maybe I should be roused to hatred.

But I'm not.

I hate what the people of ISIS do. I hate their violence and the deeds they commit. But I do not hate them as themselves. I do not hate the individuals that the Lord God formed and created and loved.

I cannot.

And looking at the lives and deaths of martyrs from the past, I don't believe those who have already given their lives for Christ would want me to.

I pray for those being persecuted. I pray for believers overseas already facing torment and trials for their faith. I grieve for their families.

But when I think of ISIS, my heart is burdened with such a love and compassion. With such sympathy. I grieve for how lost spiritually they are. I cry for the lostness of their souls. I pray for their salvation.

Because if ever the day comes when my back is pressed against a wall and a gun is pointed poised at my chest and I'm asked if I am a follower of Jesus Christ, when I look into the eyes of my persecutor, my tormenter, I don't want to feel anger. I don't want to feel hatred or hardness or bitterness. I want to feel love. I want to be filled with compassion and forgiveness. I want to see them as Jesus saw His persecutors, those who had beaten and mocked and bruised Him and had nailed Him to a tree. To see them with the same love in His eyes as He declared, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (Luke 23:34)

No one is unworthy of my love. No matter who they are. No matter what they've done.

Because no one is unworthy of God's love.

If the Lord can love and forgive a persecutor of His people such as Saul and a wretched sinner like me, how can I love and forgive any less?

"But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." (Luke 6:27&28)

"Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse." (Romans 12:14)

 

As the Spirit Leads

The Lord's been speaking to me and growing me a lot lately and one of the things He's been convicting me of is the need to intentionally make time to rest my inner self in His presence and just spend time with Him. That said, one of my new favorite things I've begun doing is setting aside several hours a week to be alone with Him. It may be a Saturday afternoon when my parents are busy or it may be an early Sunday morning before church or it might be a weekday when I have a short day at work and get off early in the afternoon. But no matter the day, each of these rendezvous with Jesus have one thing in common: they have no set plan or agenda. I dedicate those hours to simply living however He leads me to. 

And they are the best, most radical hours of my weeks. 

Thursday was my set alone time for the week. I worked a short but busy shift at work, eleven to two o'clock, and then had lunch with my mom when she surprised me at work to eat with me when I clocked out. I love it when she stops by my job. 

Then I resumed my tentative plans for the day. I changed out of my Chick-fil-A uniform and I drove up to IHOP, International House of Prayer, which is conveniently only fifteen minutes from my job. I took my time driving there and listening to worship music, singing along praising Jesus. I had no time schedule or anyone to meet. I was in no rush. 

I arrived at IHOP and parked my little Altima. I love spending my Jesus time at IHOP. It's quiet where I can feel alone and be by myself, but with people always there 24/7, I feel safe as well. I also love spending my quiet time outdoors in nature. I feel closer to God that way. And IHOP has a the perfect patio and grassy parking overflow to give me the outdoor space I need. 

Armed with the picnic blanket and backpack I carry around in my car (the backpack in which I keep a Bible, journal, and pen), my lunch bag, my sketch book, and my peach milkshake, I found a grassy place and made myself at home. And I just stayed there for hours. By myself. In silence. Alone with Jesus. Praying. 

Dinner plans I tried making with a girlfriend fell through so when I felt like it, I packed up and drove down the street to Moe's to eat dinner and sit on the patio by myself. And as I sat alone, one of my guy coworker friends showed up getting dinner before meeting a friend for a movie, called out to me, and we ate dinner together. We talked about opportunities the Lord is opening in each of our lives and about both our excitement and fears about them. I asked for his prayers and we exchanged phone numbers for me to keep him posted. And I realized that had my attempts to make dinner plans fell into place, I wouldn't have had that God-orchestrated time with my work friend. I had needed someone to talk to, thinking aloud, and the Lord had provided me with company. It didn't matter that I was late for worship at the IHOP Forerunner church service. I didn't have anyone waiting for me there. I didn't have set plans and I was willing to be flexible with whatever the Lord brought into my path. 

I arrived at IHOP again in time for half an hour of the remainder of worship time, I worshipped alone in the dark sanctuary without my usual girlfriends at my side, and then having to open at work early the next morning, I slipped out after worship before the message began. 

I drove home leisurely. Again, I was in no hurry. I turned on some Bethel Music on my iPhone and drove through Lawrenceville on the roads so familiar to me now from my weekly excursions to IHOP. Dusk was settling. To the east, the sky was darkening to night; to the west, the horizon was still aglow in the last burst of pinks and orange and violet. Oncoming headlights shone brightly passing by, but all of nature was preparing for slumber as the day came to rest. Dusk. My favorite time of night. 

I thought about life. I thought about the passion and the burden the Lord has on my heart. I thought about the plans He has for my future and the calling He has for me. I thought about my purpose. 

I stopped in the left turn lane at a red light and I saw a woman holding a cardboard sign walking along the grassy median beside me. I could hardly read her sign in the dim twilight but I saw the words "Homeless" and "God bless you." Once upon a time several months ago, I had felt pricked with compassion and prompted to action one afternoon, an afternoon when I hadn't had cash on me to help the homeless person on the side of the road and I had driven away that time feeling a deep regret I couldn't erase. Since then, I had kept cash in my wallet and I had prayed for another opportunity to bless such a person. 

So when I saw that woman, that prayer came back to mind and the only thought I had was of getting to the twenty-dollar bill in my wallet before the light turned green. 

I rolled down my window as the woman approached and I handed her the money bill. She was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap. Her clothes looked dirty and her skin wrinkled and tanned. She had beautiful blue eyes. A space away, I could see her bags and a bicycle laying in the grass. I wondered how long she had been holding that sign that day. What kind of life she had once had. How she had ended up where she was in that moment. She didn't look to see how much money I had given her, but she took it from my hand gratefully. "Thank you! Thank you so much! God bless you!" She continued repeating the words over and over again. I couldn't remember when I had last seen anyone so grateful. "Maybe... maybe I can get... a place to stay tonight!" she said haltingly, almost breathlessly. She seemed exhausted and nearly delirious. "God bless you! You have a lovely evening and safe evening, Miss," she told me. 

I smiled a little, my heart crying out for this poor woman though. "I'll be praying for you, Ma'am," I promised her. How unhelpful and pathetic the words sounded to me on my lips though! What I would have given to have been able to help her in some other way! But her sincere reply struck my mind and continues to echo to me. 

"Thank you! A prayer is worth more than any money you could give." 

The light turned green and I drove away as she walked back to her bicycle. I drove away with my Moe's receipt in my wallet- money so easily spent- away to my beautiful home, to my loving parents, to my comfortable bed, to my security of a roof over my head and a job to wake up to in the morning. To stability. I was out twenty dollars. But what was twenty dollars to me? Dinner with my friends? How much I have, I realized, compared to some who have so little. Was I helping fuel an alcohol or drug addiction? Maybe. I don't know. But it wasn't my place to scrutinize her motives or sincerity. The Lord knows the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4:12) and judges accordingly. I'm only called to love, to serve, and to help those in need as He leads me to. 

I think of that woman and pray for her often since that night. I don't think I'll ever forget her. 

These are the days that I live when I set aside a few hours to intentionally spend with the Lord. And while I wish that I could live with no agendas, no plans, no timetables, every day for the rest of my life, that sadly wouldn't put money in my bank account. 

But I do think that it's important to set aside intentional time when we break the routine of our society's mentality that we always have to be busy and on the go and have plans. When we break that routine and allow ourselves to simply move and live as the Spirit leads us to. When we're entirely open to whatever He places in our path without having the constraint of meetings and appointments and places to be at at the back of our mind. When we don't have to be so time-conscience but can lose ourselves in Him. It guards us from stress and burn-out as we learn to take care of our spiritual inner self and to rest in His presence. It teaches us to be still, it tunes our ability to hear His voice, it heightens our awareness of His presence, and it frees us from any hindrance or distraction to be wholly obedient to the Holy Spirit's stirring wherever we are and whatever it looks like. It trains us to live by the Spirit. It's grown me and changed me, and I believe it can and will change anyone who makes quiet time- a quiet getaway- with the Lord a regular practice. I'm so thankful for this season of my life when I have the independence and the time for moments like these! When I'm young and can take advantage of these years for Jesus and for growing in Him like never before.