Who Do You Want To Be?

Yesterday, a dear woman left this life to be with Jesus. For those of you who have followed Kara Tippetts' journey through her blog Mundane Faithfulness, you already know how amazing she was, what an impact she had on the lives of people around her, and how much she will be missed by those who loved her.

As I read some of her last posts and those of her husband and friends from the past few weeks, I was-as always-overcome with a wash of emotions. With her simple, deep eloquence, she revealed things I didn't know about our visible and invisible lives, and my heart was stirred. Grief and hope, hurt and joy welled up within me, with an added blend of encouragement and discouragement.

Encouragement: Have you gotten a glimpse of this woman's life? It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Over and over, the people who love her spoke of her genuine kindness and her gift of loving people. Her deep trust and reliance on Jesus was so evident; she helped people (me) to see Jesus more clearly. Her personality was so precious and unique, her giftings from the Lord were poured out and used for his glory. I want to be more like that. I want to be Kara.

Discouragement: I am not Kara. Becoming like her seems impossible in some ways and actually is impossible in others. I am yearning to be something I am not, a cricket watching a butterfly.

The fog and gloom of this winter is slowly lifting, and I am starting to feel myself coming alive again. I am beginning to care about things and it feels so good. But as the apathy begins to fade, I am seeing so much of myself that I don't want to see, and I am dissatisfied with who I am. It's like I have this annoying girl with me all the time that I can't get away from, and she is NEVER going to be like the women I aspire to be.

But I am not meant to be Kara. I am not meant to be Corrie, or Susanna, or Amy, or Kim, or Marty (although they are all beautiful examples).

I am meant to be like Jesus.

And I am promised the Holy Spirit to help me become more like Jesus. And I am promised that it is not just up to me, that God WILL make it happen.

"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." -1 John 3:2

Go back and actually read that verse. Think about it. 

As I become more like Jesus, I feel more like myself, the self I was meant to be. I remember this feeling of becoming myself, even though I don't feel it right now. 

I think it is okay to yearn for transformation, to desire to be someone you are not (yet). Often for me, this feeling is a companion of conviction, and the desire to partner with God in his work is a good thing! But ultimately I am being transformed, which is a passive verb. I am watching and being amazed at what God is doing with my life. Well, at the moment, I am not seeing what God is doing. But I am asking him to work, and waiting expectantly to be amazed. 

Because God can do something even more amazing than making me like Kara Tippetts. He can make me like Jesus. 

When Life Gives You Snow, Go To Snowball

Last weekend, I went up to Gettysburg for Snowball, because I only live an hour away and there were friends and a big band and swing music, so really why not?

Except I wasn't sure it was a good idea. I try not to go to Gettysburg when I am feeling particularly sad or discontent with life, because college was great but I'm not a student anymore, and I don't want to try (in vain) to hold on to something that God gave and took away at the proper time. Also, I like be able to pour into friends I visit when I am there, to listen to them and encourage them. I don't want my Gburg visits to consist of me lounging around complaining about my life.

And let's be real... sad, discontent, and lounging around all describe this winter very well. I have always disliked winter, but I have never been so consistently depressed (for lack of a better word that doesn't connote clinical diagnosis) as I have this year. Its wearing me down. I don't like being sad and unmotivated all the time. I really want to care about life again.

But anyway, I went to Gettysburg. And it was the most delightful thing! I got to catch up with dear friends, put on a fancy dress, get my hair done (oh, the joy of friends to fix your hair), and went swing dancing. And then, because that wasn't glorious enough, the next morning I went to Hanover Valley Presbyterian Church for the first time since graduation, enjoyed a wonderful service, hugged more dear friends, met precious friends' new children, and got more life-giving people time. It was so encouraging to hear what God is doing on campus and in the hearts of people I love there. It was so encouraging to be reunited with church family and worship God together. It was so encouraging to wear heels and dance for hours. Why had I stayed away from Gettysburg for so long?

Sometimes, my pride in thinking I know what is best for me might get in the way of what is actually best for me. 

This morning in church, we were singing this lovely song, Good Good Father, (I'm just waiting for warm weather and a guitar player so we can sit outside and sing this with delightful harmonies all the time) and this line stuck out to me:

"You know just what we need before we say a word"

Of course I know this is true, but what if this is actually true?!? What if God really knows what I need before I tell him... What if God knows what I need regardless of whether or not I know what I need?

What if he knows that there is something I need more than sunshine and warmth? What if he knows that I have a much more desperate need, and he is fulfilling it without me even asking like the good Father he is? I need His presence daily. I need to be brought to a place where I recognize my need for Him. I need my heart to know that He quenches my thirst and learn to go to Him. I need to be striped of my pride and given a heart full of compassion.

I need a living hope even more than I need springtime. (And as I walked to my car, contemplating these things after the service... the sunshine kissed my face, and a gentle breeze brought a slight scent of spring, even in the midst of all this snow. He's a good, good father.)