Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Two down, two to go (nooooooooooo!!)

Yes, reader, that is the sad truth I've been reminded of.

My time at Texas A&M University is at it's halfway point and year three is fast approaching. 27 more days of claiming junior privileges but not wanting to accept the fact that I am now a scary, knowledgeable upperclassman. I shudder at the very thought.

But the fact of the matter is that time is still hurtling forward, full speed ahead. Fears like "Am I going to get a job after college?", "Will I get to student teach near College Station?", and "Is Alabama going to crush us this year in football?" keep swarming into my mind. I keep casting my eyes onto a horizon that I can't see (despite the fact that I'm severely farsighted). And the inability to know what lies ahead is a little disturbing.

The book of Matthew assures us that tomorrow has it's own worries and that we'll get there when we get there. But I can say that verse all day and dream about it all night. When will it kick into effect? I'm already worried my Delta Gad freshman will think I'm a total psycho when I'm not even finished hanging out with my VRBC nuggets. I'm concerned for my lack of plans pertaining to next summer when this summer hasn't even shut down yet.

I know all the right answers.

Why can't I execute it then? Why is my life sounding like a math problem I can't figure out?

Possibly because I'm small and stupid, insecure and uninformed. Things I used to view as shameful and weak, but that are actually comforting. If you know where to look. 2 Corinthians 12:9 has been a brilliant verse for me--reminding me that I am weaker than weak. Studying Ephesians this summer has brought to light how deeply loved I am and how there truly is a plan for me. Linley. It's not generic and it's not flippant. It was designed specifically for me and my strengths and my flaws.

I wish I could say that I'm ready for junior year and to bring it on. But really, I just want to focus on what's right in front of me. And when planning for the future is right in front of me, then I will do what I need to. But when that time comes, I know I will be equipped with what I need and supported by who needs to support me. I'm confident in the God who protects and loves me and by the family and friends who will stand by me.

So, Impact, junior year, Crimson Tide? Hi. I'm Linley. I'm not 100% sure where my life is going, but I'm 100% sure of the things I need to know right now. The rest will come when in due time. 

Friday, July 26, 2013

Siri is stupid and an excellent example of how sin is stupid

One of my closest friends/roommates lives in Fort Worth--a 45ish minute drive from my house. This week, our other two roomies were in town and I obviously couldn't be within an hour of them and not see them. It would be a crime, practically.

So I rolled out of church/work to go hang out and spend the night. While the drive was traffic filled (Dallas is the worst), my little, demanding friend Siri didn't get overly confused until we actually hit my roommate's neighborhood, where I took some janky, roundabout method to get to her house. Then, the following day, Siri was having some MAJOR issues getting me out of Fort Worth and back to my house.

Thankfully, I knew the highways I was supposed to take and can read road signs. But I still kept my maps open, just to see where she would try and direct me.

Like every Christian out there, I thought of a spiritual metaphor (oh, you don't do those?...weird) as pertaining to my situation.

Listening to Siri's misled instructions telling me to go I35 South or exit 19th street would've taken me anywhere but home. And I have often listened to and heeded what she's told me and it's caused me a lot of angst, road rage, and gas money. She'll make me go way out of the way in an attempt to get me from point a to point b. And it rarely turns out how I want it to.

No, this is not a bash on Apple's maps (though they really do need to work on those).

Siri is like the sin in our lives (how corny is that?). All too often, we know what direction we're supposed to be headed. But our misguided minds tell us that other routes work just as well, or will even be better. When we follow these paths, it always looks good for a little while. Then you get stuck or run out of gas and find that you're way far away from home and totally lost. Sin's instruction was destruction.

Siri has told me tons of directions that have taken me to the airport, en route to Houston, and to some warehouse in Dallas, when I knew that something was wrong but didn't know how to fix it.

That's when we need to know that the roads that the Lord has set out for us are good and true. He will not lead us to a place that will ruin us just to ruin us. The roadblocks and detours he takes us through are for the benefit of our lives and, in the long run, prevent us from even worse situations than what we faced on his path.

If I've learned anything, it's to not doubt what I know to be true, even if I'm being told otherwise.

Sin is loud. But we are told in the Psalms to be still and know.


Wednesday, July 24, 2013

A Coke-can sized love (and how unimpressive it is when you're less than the least)

Well. It's been like 4 months since I've last blogged. Way to go, insightful English major. But better way overdue than never. Isn't that how the saying goes?

Short, incomplete recap: I successfully finished my sophomore year with a still growing GPA, despite the 4 seasons of Prison Break I went through. I don't know how it happens, but my grades only get better when Netflix is in the mix. My roommates are the best. A&M is figuring out how to deal with a diva of a quarterback. Alabama wants to eat us. And God continues to remind me how much of an idiot I am and how--in the paraphrased words of Icona Pop--he doesn't care, he loves me. Though I wish he would make time slow down because there's no stinkin' way I'm about to start my junior year at A&M. Can I be on the football team just so Sumlin can redshirt me for a year? Can upperclassman even be redshirted?

Anyways. 

So this summer I've been one of the youth interns at the church I grew up in, which has been crazy awesome and I floored by how God is proving himself to be faithful and strong through me. He's put me in a position of influence for some reason. A weird concept, considering this is the girl who regularly chokes on water.

But in the Wednesday night Bible study I've been co-leading, we've been studying Ephesians. The 3rd chapter talks about how big God's love is and Paul (like, THE Paul) says that he is less than the least (verse 8). Which is pretty mind-blowing. I mean, this guy wrote over half of the New Testament. And aside from Jesus (duh), was probably the most obedient follower of Christ ever. You don't get much more sold out for the Gospel than this guy. And to think that he's describing himself has lower than the worst, as sub-human, as dirt? What does that mean for us? What does that mean for the girl who can't do a quiet time consistently for over a week? For the guy who has a pride that swallows everything else? For the man who preaches trust but holds back his finances? For the woman who thinks she's a Proverbs 31 woman but is deeply insecure about herself? Is there any hope for us?

Yes. Ephesians 3:14-21 is testament to that. The love of God is high, deep, far, and wide. It's huge. It encompasses everything. No amount of hatred can dampen it. That's why Jesus came. He came for the world. For those who thought they were living right (but weren't) and for those who knew they were messed up (and are).

Francis Chan describes the love of humans as the size of a Coke can. We can be as full as we can be. We can even be overflowing. But it's little. It's a Coke can. Easily emptied. Consumed quickly. And afterward, we're still thirsty. It doesn't satisfy completely, though. Maybe a craving, sure. But it's not a source of hydration.

But the love of God is like an ocean with fresh water. It's immeasurable. It will never run dry. It sustains. It's the very reason why a savior was sent for the scum inhabitants of an earth that was designed to glorify its creator. We fell on our faces and never looked back. Thankfully, though, we're being chased by a God who loves us deeply with no good reason. The ocean doesn't have a reason to exist and is impossible to tame. God's love doesn't belong in a Coke can and exists because it just does. We have no reason to be loved. But we are.

Less than the least. Loved by the greatest that is.


Credits:
Ephesians 3
Francis Chan (and Nicole F. for bringing it to my attention)