Hebrews 10

Tonight I had the immeasurable pleasure to sit down with some wonderful women and study the Bible together. We read Hebrews 10, which is a book of the Bible I almost never dive into even though it's great.

The verses I was assigned to read more intensely were 8-14.

Here it is:

When he said above, “You have neither desired nor taken pleasure in sacrifices and offerings and burnt offerings and sin offerings” (these are offered according to the law), ⁹ then he added, “Behold, I have come to do your will.” He does away with the first in order to establish the second. ¹⁰ And by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.
¹¹ And every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. ¹² But when Christ^[b] had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, ¹³ waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. ¹⁴ For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.


And here was my response (that was 100% the Lord because my brain was a little fried when I wrote it).

This is the distinction between the Old Testament and the new. The Jewish sacrifices were the manner of reconciliation before Jesus, they are voided once Jesus paid the price for everything. God not desiring or taking pleasure in the old sacrifices was because He knew that a more permanent and all-encompassing price was needed. The ransom of mankind was too big to ride on the back of a goat (though a donkey would suffice).

The purpose of Jesus was to be the end-all, be-all atonement, to null the needs of the past, to be the final statement, the last word on the matter of sin and death. This wasn't anything a priest and a clean lamb could do. This was for every human to ever life. Our salvation no longer sits in a temple with men who habitually commit the same ritual day by day. It is bought by one man who had the power to be 100% perfect and yet take on the sins of literally billions of people once and for all. There is no ignoring or discrediting this solid truth.

There was one man. There only needed to be one payment from him. And now we must sit and be in awe of a God who loved us too much to be content with bringing home his children with something worth less than his children. So he had to send someone who was worth exponentially more.

Unspeakable Joy

On Thursday night, the Texas Hill Country was hit with very Texas-esque weather: beautiful during the day, torrential storm at night. Tornadoes touched the ground 20 miles east of camp, and there were intense thunderstorms coming through camp.

And when you're in charge of 8 girls between the ages of 10 and 12, you are fully aware that the time during the storm will be spent giving many hugs and hushing tears.

We migrated from our nightly activities to the big gym towards the edge of camp grounds for cover, and told our campers that it's not a big deal--we just want to stay out of the storm. They all begged to go to the dorm, but my co-counselor and I made up lame excuses about why we couldn't go back.

There were two terrifying moments that night: when the directors told us tornadoes had touched the ground near us, and when our male director whistled to signal us to get everyone in the bathrooms because the weather was bad enough.

Everything in me wanted to burst into tears and to hunker down somewhere safe. My co and I both had wild looks in our eyes before we had to swallow the fear, count our ducklings, and move them into the bathroom. Immediately, 3 of them started bawling. Two more were on the verge of tears.

I'm not a mom, not anywhere close to being a mom, but the Lord 100% equipped me to be strong for them during those 30 minutes in the bathroom. With flickering lights and claps of thunder, the other girl counselors and I pulled out every camp song we knew, trying to keep the girls under control and keeping the panic away.

And despite the chaos, I found myself laughing and dancing. Keeping the girls calm and myself joyful during this time was of the utmost importance. It was supernatural. It was all Jesus. By the time we were released from the bathroom--no tornadoes hit camp--everyone was a little bit more tired and really sweaty. We watched a movie while the rest of the storm faded away.

Thursday was absolutely nuts. The Lord definitely provided the protection and joyful spirit that we needed to make it through the storm.

But it's also cool to say that I took cover at camp during a tornado.

Camp

Howdy readers.

Firstly, I'm sorry that my blog game has been off for, like, a year at this point. Life is busy, yes, but not so busy that I can't post. MY BAD Y'ALL.

I've been at a camp for the last two weeks. Meaning I have been trained to send kids down a cable wearing a harness and rope, send them up a rock wall, teach them how to shoot a .22 gun, bow and arrow, and make a camp fire. Among about a hundred other random skills that you need to be a mother to children for a week.

Yes, this week has heard a lot of "Yes, you need to take a shower tonight" and "You're going to Bible study so you need to bring your Bible!" because I'm with eight 10-11 year old girls who move slowly and get distracted easily. But the wisdom that comes out of their mouths is like nothing I have ever heard.

Needless to say, every day (every hour) is an adventure.

I absolutely love it.

Even when it's hard, and my girls are crazy, and I don't want to wake up, there is nothing better than hearing how the Lord has worked in their lives.

It's towards the end of the week. I have a precious few hours left with them, and I'm actually really sad that my little nuglets are going home on Saturday. The Lord has done big things in my little ones.

Summer 2014 has officially begun.

My April Post

Well okay. Rundown of what's happened since January.
Impact counselor applications came out, were submitted, read, interviews happened, selections went down, and suddenly my foursome of Tyler, Elijah, Emma, and I became an eighteen-some. Omega Benji 2014 is the best, basically. I am continually thankful for how wonderful they all are, how amazing my girls are, our studly man counselors, the support of Emma and Elijah, Tyler as my partner and co-captain of Struggle Bus, and the just general idea that "Oh my gosh I get to serve with these humans and glorify Jesus what even is this."

It's still a pretty weird idea that the Lord put Tyler and I in charge of a camp, and we frequently joke about how some mistake must have happened because there's no way someone would actually trust us to be in a leadership role. But every Thursday when we run a camp meeting, reality hits us and we have to face up to the fact that we aren't in control of anything (hallelujah) but it's okay because we don't really need to be.

So there's that weird mess of me continually attempting to trust the Lord with Impact. The last few months have shown me what happens when I don't trust him. And it is like an F5 tornado came in and tore up my life (in a good but still painful way).

Without going into a lot of detail, I've stumbled my way through this semester. I played the whole "Christian girl" game of saying all the right things and doing all the right actions, but inside I still, STILL, struggled with the fact that my pride was a pill I couldn't swallow; I was still horribly convinced that I could do my chaotic semester of school, social, Impact, sorority, and a whole slew of other things all on my own and it would be great and wonderful.

But it wasn't. Every time I turned around, I was dropping one of the pieces I was juggling. School was the first to fall. Then went the roommates. Then my other friends. Then my spare time. I've never been good at time management, and I knew I was only one slip-up away from falling flat on my face with Impact (something I was terrified to drop). The Lord gave me a good shake though, and I found myself in a boxed in space with no way out EXCEPT for Him.

My juggling act had failed. Too many things had slipped through the cracks. Relationships and school suffered. I had to cut out parts of my life that I had been clinging desperately to. Things that the Lord had given me to see if I trusted him enough to give back. And it took me an embarrassing amount of time to return them, to finally open up my hands and say, "Okay, here, take it. Because I can't do this anymore."   

Now, my priorities are school, Impact, and my roommates, with Christ at the center. Every day is a fight to keep those things where they are on my priority list while still moving forward in life. Every day I have to remind myself what a disaster the first half of my semester was so I can cling to the only part of my little life that wasn't, isn't, and never will be a mess: my faith that the Lord loves me and forgives me.

Because I need a lot of love and a lot of forgiveness.

But it's because of the love that I get forgiveness, and it's through the forgiveness that I am loved.

That truth has been evidenced by every single person I have been around this semester. My roommates love me in my disaster. My camp loves me even though I know that I could be better at leading. My family has been a constant force of prayer and love. I can't imagine what this semester would have looked like if I hadn't had a force of people pushing me forward every moment of every day.

My semester was a mess. A lot of tears over a lot of things have been shed. But the amount of laughter, wonderful times with people I love, productivity, and inexplicable joy that has come from the last few months have left a patchwork of healing over the scars.

"No longer defined by the wreckage behind"

I've gotten bored with the music on my iPod and, therefore, have resorted to listening to the commercials of Spotify (which, granted, isn't that bad). I was in the mood to listen to some Jesus jams and re-stumbled across a song I had heard a few times over Christmas break. It's "Hello, My Name Is" by Matthew West.

Go listen to it right now.

Here, I'll help you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuJWQzjfU3o

You guys, here's the deal. If you have believed and accepted the fact that you are human and screw up, that God sent his perfect son Jesus Christ to take the blame for your screw ups (and raising from the dead in the process), and that you are forgiven, then this is for you. If that does not apply to you, I pray that you investigate the love of Christ and the freedom in his truth.

Matthew West's song has made me want to cry from joy every time I've heard it because the truth is overwhelming.

Romans 8:14-17 calls us adopted by God. He called us out of our sin and death and chains and into his family. He takes our rags of regret and our coat of defeat and strips them away. He says in Revelation that he is making all things new. We were not created to wear clothes that broadcast our failures. He takes everything that is not perfect from us and puts new clothes on our backs.

And, for whatever reason, we beg for the other ones back. Because they're comfortable. Because we can hide our dirty secrets in vague proclamations. We want people to know that we aren't perfect but we refuse to be vulnerable enough to let on what's really wrong with us. Our society is obsessed with wallowing in our sin because it's easy and, even if it hurts, it's a heck of a lot less painful than discovering why we're doing this. That discovery would lead to the truth, and the truth is just too hard to bear.

This is the great lie we have been led to believe. That we are hopelessly alone. That there is no redemption in us, so we wear our mistakes like badges of honor because it's the thing to do, and that the truth will only bog us down. So YOLO, right?

No. Wrong. Stop. Enough.

If we let ourselves be defined by what we have done, what we have been told, and what we think of ourselves because of what we have seen, we are dishonoring the very one who created us. We let our identify get wrapped up in things that are temporary. I've so easily taken on the role of "English major" or "Impact cochair" that I let the fact that I am Linley, a created masterpiece and a daughter of the most high God, slide by the wayside.

Because that's what we are. We aren't claimed by our regret or defeat anymore. And for anyone who tells you that you are defined by your past and what you've done--in your head or outside of it--know that those are lies. 

You are not alone.

Nor hopeless. Or unloved. Or any other negative definition.

The Bible is full of definitions of what you ARE if you are in Christ. Claiming his name gives you the inheritance of the Kingdom of Heaven. But on a less grandeur scale (but possibly more incredible), we are forgiven of what we've done and redeemed as something beautiful.

"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that he may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness and into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy." 1 Peter 2:9-10.

(hey Dad...sorry it's been so long since I've posted)

2013 in review

Part of me wanted to do this post in pictures, but really the only pictures on my phone are funny conversations I've taken screen-shots of, embarrassing selfies my roommates have sent me, and a wide array of Kyle Field shots taken at football games. As telling as those are, my year hasn't been totally dominated by texting (though my mom might beg to differ), selfies, and football.

This year was a good year.

While my blogging hasn't been consistent, it's captured the major moments of the year. Impact counselor round two, this year more of a leader within the camp than a "Oh wow I'm actually here" deal. Miraculously, Netflix continued to be a positive influence on my GPA. I traveled to London with an English class. I changed churches in College Station. I worked in my church's youth ministry back home over the summer and cranked out 8 hours of Spanish. My roommates and I migrated from our three room apartment to a three bedroom house down the street from campus. We like it a lot more than the apartment, but have had our fair share of calling the leasing agency to fix things. I even rode my bike to class for a few weeks. Huzzah. Impact retreat was pretty picture-perfect. My girls are amazing and two of my closest friends. I wrote for the school paper. Impact leadership applications came out and for some weird reason, I was put in charge of a camp.

And now 2014 is 4 days old, and I'm onto semester 6 of 8 in my college career.

Weird.

There are a few people who deserve major shout-outs for this year. Only the first is in a particular order.

The first is Jesus. Duh. Being thrown into situations where His trust was my only thing to hold, His patience was the only thing I had, or His joy was my only strength grew me exponentially this year. I have a long road ahead of me still, but progress/change is good and encouraging. And I have no doubt that everything I faced this past year will be something be challenges that are thrown at me in 2014. Like the last 5 semesters, I don't see the growth until I look back and have to close my gaping mouth. His faithfulness is something I'll never get used to.

The second is going to go to my family. My brother came down to school at Blinn, so we ran into each other on a weekly basis (and normally ended with me buying him food). So huzzah to that. My sister has successfully found her life's ambition--being a special education teacher (it fits her beautifully--like I've never known anyone to have a job so designed for them). My mom is hilarious and supportive as ever. I always know when she's bored because she'll call me and talk 90% of the time we're on the phone--her New Year's resolution is to let my dad talk more. My dad is someone I'm still continually figuring out and appreciating more as I do. He is a creature of habit and a peaceful presence to our family.

The third is a group of people--my roommates. Rachel, Myles, and Joy were a huge factor in my growth and success this year. Just being around them has helped me to see what Godly love looks like because they love me. They are truly friends I plan to keep for the rest of my life. And even when I land on Rachel's leg trying to get out of bed or accidentally scare Myles or lay on Joy's bed and word vomit all my woes, I am confident in the fact that the four of us were put together for a reason. We live together well and we love each other despite all of our differences and struggles.

Lastly is a general shout-out to all the friends I've grown closer to this year. Thanks for being a friend.

2014 is going to be a busy, chaotic, fantastic year. I've been prepared as much as I can be, but I know there will be many times where I'll need Christ, my family, and my friends to carry me through. I'm ready to trust and to put what I've been taught into practice.

So here we go.

My short career as a journalist

Well you guys, I had a nice stint as a journalist writing for A&M's newspaper. It lasted all of three months and I got a definitive answer on one of my life questions: my career path will not include reporting.

I'm pretty not good at it, in my fairly critical opinion (though despite my deadline missing habits and a feeling of "I have no idea what I'm doing", the editors liked me and what I wrote). The writing part was fine. Great, even. I loved being able to sit down and crank something out because I love to write and I was writing something that was not analytical of a novel or a research paper about educational theories. It was something that people my age would read and may be interested in.

The cause of my journalistic demise was the knowledge that I was so not a journalist. Not even a little bit. Calling up people and asking them all these questions felt like an intrusion into their lives and an inconvenience of their time. I felt horribly guilty if a story didn't run because I had hunted down these people and wasted their time.

I know that's not what it was. Not really, anyways. Interviews didn't take very long and people were open to talk about things they liked and were involved in. But still. The self-conscious and insecure part of me felt really bad about a story not running, but I knew it was because of logistics and other stories in the paper that were going to be run.

I learned a lot. Without a doubt, I learned a lot. That part was really cool. I feel like I have a glimpse of what working for a publisher looks like. Maybe not extensively (probably not, let's be real here), but I know what it means to write on a deadline now and to have people waiting on things in your hands. The amount stress was surprising and kept me up at night--which is funny, because my job was the minimum amount of everyone who worked for the paper. Just further confirmation that journalism and fast-and-hard stories aren't my strong suit.

Do I regret it? Nope. Not even a little bit. It was a valuable experience and I'm glad I did it. But unless I'm interviewed for something, you probably won't see my name in the Battalion next semester.

The next step in the adventure is on its way.