No Sound But a Cry

Today, I woke up and my anxiety was there. I tried to shake it off, and usually morning routines like making pour-over coffee and spending time with the Lord help. I did some stretches while tuning in on my church service; eventually, I transitioned to lighting a candle, turning on worship music and just laying there. 

Usually, running helps. I went for a run in the afternoon and halfway through, I started to hyperventilate. And then you know, one thing led to another and there I was, running and crying while gasping for air. I think to myself, Grace, you should really call someone. But I don't want to call anyone because I don't know how I would be able to express the inexpressible pain I sometimes feel deep down in my chest. It's the kind of pain that expresses itself in a cry: visceral, guttural, raw, laced with all the buried and unacknowledged nuances of past and present pain. A kind of cry that jolts me awake and reminds me that there are pieces of me that are stuck in the past. And as much as I sound like a broken record, what brings me back to the present is putting one foot in front of the other and continuing to run. 

Lord, I thank you that you are not a stranger to pain. You are not a stranger to the type of alienation that characterizes pain. As much as my pain is singularly my own, you above all others know exactly what I am thinking and what I am feeling. The invitation to come and lay this broken heart and this broken spirit down at the foot of the cross beckons me once again. So I run to you, and come just as I am. 

The Peace You Bring

Growing up, the holidays were never really a thing in my family. I actually remember crying a lot whenever Christmas rolled around. As a kid, Christmas was always this stark juxtaposition of what I saw on TV/what was advertised, what was portrayed in my friends' families and what was my lived out reality. This juxtaposition of what I longed for - a tight-knit family - and what existed around me would always result in a volcanic eruption of emotions on this particular day. There were times when in my more shallow moments, I uttered in my heart screw you, baby Jesus. All I want for Christmas is a dad who never left and a sister who was around. 

While I've mellowed out a bit since my teenage years, my recognition of Christmas for what it truly is continues to become evermore refined. Simply put, Christmas this year looks and feels different. I'm stuck in Chicago, away from my mom and sister, spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day by myself. Does the lack of the presence of family members, copious amounts of presents, health, etc. etc. (the list could go on indefinitely), negate Christmas? No, it doesn't.  Does the lack of all these things bring to hyper-focus the essence of Christmas? Wow, it's with resounding enthusiasm that I say yes. The gift that God knew I needed would burst onto the scene of humanity, a gift whose presence would never leave my side. A person that continues to walk closely with me day in and day out, not just on those past Christmases where I felt the brokenness in myself and in my family keenly. Jesus, you are everything I ever needed and everything I always wanted. It is simply you, nothing more and nothing less. 

Why I Love Christ

 Lord, you love me more than I love myself. When I berate myself and get sucked into believing lies that I am not worthy and that there is something intrinsically wrong with me, you reach out and draw me into your embrace. 

You find me at the foot of the cross and if it's one thing I know too deeply about myself, it is that I am time and time again unsatisfied and uncomfortable in the restlessness. So I draw near and Christ in his mercy allows me to rest awhile. 

I find John Piper's words to be a startling revelation of what it means to follow Christ and walk with Him. Piper says, "when you become a Christian - a disciple of Jesus - you do not become his helper. He becomes your helper. You do not become his benefactor. He becomes your benefactor. You do not become his servant. He becomes your servant. Jesus does not need your help; he commands your obedience and offers his help." 

Don't get confused - Piper's intention behind his words isn't a nod to living for yourself and manipulating Christ for your own needs. Rather, I think what Piper is getting at is this: when you die to yourself and surrender all that you are to the Lord, he shows up in ways that you can't even imagine. He blesses you with his presence and with a love that is so profound that it fills the aching, restless, tired heart. You begin to realize that nothing on this earth can satisfy or heal you like the love of Christ. 

So once again, I draw near. And I pray that the Lord would continue to complete what he has set out to accomplish. 

Not Just For Me

I was having my cup of coffee this morning and was sitting still before the Lord when I heard resounding shots go off. My initial thoughts were that those shots were too close to home. I ran to my bedroom window and as I looked out, saw a red compact car accelerate backwards down our one-way street. At the same time, I heard shouts and a wailing sound. Indeed, a man had gotten shot only a few doors down. I grabbed my roommate and we started to pray and within moments we heard an ambulance and various police vehicles turn down our street. I observed a medical gurney being pulled out of the ambulance and then shortly after, a man being lifted unto it. My roommate went outside and came back with news that the man had gotten shot in his right thigh and that it wasn't a critical injury. We prayed again and prayed for the injured man and the person in the red car. We prayed that the Lord's Kingdom would become a reality in North Lawndale. As I prayed, I was reminded once again that prayer is not an indulgence; no, prayer is Kingdom work that requires consistency, persistency, and boldness (thank you Pastor Peter for the timely sermon on prayer yesterday). I pray because I believe that God's sovereignty is not so far removed that he does not hear or act on the prayers of the righteous. I pray because he is Immanuel - God with us. God who hears the cries of broken people. God who is merciful, compassionate, slow to anger. Abundant in love and zealous for his glory. God of justice. God who does not turn away, but draws near. 

Thankful List

 -Last night's table hangout w my housemates (basically where we all spontaneously end up at the dining table and talk)

-Meredith texted me last night saying, "Grace, can we FaceTime?!" She and Kate separately nominated me to get a free haircut with a celebrity hair stylist here in Chicago and my name got picked. WOWZA! I was so blown away that they would think of me. I honestly get my haircuts via whatever cheap GroupOn is available so this should definitely be a treat haha. Also, it was so lovely to see Meredith. I really miss all of my Philz friends. 

-The testing team is working from home today! Our assigned testing site cancelled on us last minute yesterday and CDPH wasn't able to schedule us for today and so here I am, having another slow morning before my 9 am meeting with Alma and Meg. 

-Thankful for my life group and the consistency they bring

Thankful List

 -Grabbing coffee with Janet and Sharon and walking along the 606 this past weekend 

-Playing Spikeball with Sharon, Nate, and Josh yesterday (I was literally laughing the entire time. Note to self, play more spikeball with this crew). 

-Praying with Janet and Matt during our weekly leadership check-in. 

-I made my first spontaneous dance video and decided to show the world my moves. I'm thankful that I can worship the Lord through physical movement and expression, whether it's running or dancing. 

-Thankful for my friends Don and Amy - whenever they text me our thread is always so much fun and I end up laughing a lot.

It is Monday, Dec. 7, 2020. I am grateful for the Lord's sustaining hand. I'm grateful that I was able to get today off and can enjoy a slow morning with the Lord. 

Tears and All

 Somehow, the Lord sustained me through one of the toughest work weeks. Yesterday, we were back at the jail testing the detainees in their dormitories. At one point, some of the detainees got into a fight and the security guards started yelling, "get out! get out! get out now!" My entire team and I bolted for the door, and I'm pretty sure my heart rate jumped from 50 to 100 within those few minutes. When the guards started yelling at us to get out of the dormitory, my immediate thoughts were: What's going on? Did one of my teammates get hurt? Oh no oh no. My team and I ran out of the room and stood outside and witnessed the security guards rush into the dormitory and use pepper spray on the men who were part of the tussle. We watched the guards drag the men involved out of the room and into a different part of the facility. At that point, something inside me (a combination of adrenaline, exhaustion, stress, fear, anxiety, this overwhelming sense of my inability to do this job, my smallness even as I witnessed the volatile scene unfold in front of me) snapped. I stood there, tears streaming down my face. My kind friend and fellow nurse, Meg, held my hand and we stepped out to take a breather.

Later, I made a pit stop to get some coffee and as I waited for the barista to call my name, started crying again. I cried in the car. I made my way back to the hospital to get some other work stuff done and cried in our team's office. At one point, my other coworker, Maggie, called me and as she gave me some words of experience and kind wisdom, at which point I cried again. 

I cried because crying is my body externally expressing what it is internally feeling. I cried because this whole season has been a nonstop rollercoaster of trying to nip COVID in the bud, of fighting what seems like to be a losing battle, of endless monotony and at times moments that unveil the cruelty of this society and of this world. Holistically speaking, I am so very much exhausted. I can't do this. Lord, I can't do this.  Yet, underneath the surface, I sense that the Lord is continuing to sustain me. He sustained me that day, through the prayers that were prayed realtime by members of my life group and by my housemates, by the compassion shown to me by my team, by takeout food.

Tonight, I got to talk to CC, the worship leader at my church and someone who naturally exudes discernment and wisdom. I left the conversation truly encouraged; my spirits had lifted. I guess.. what I'm trying to get at is that it's true that I can't do this by myself. I need the Lord more than ever, I need my coworkers and colleagues, I need the body of Christ to walk with me in this season.