the god that doesn't get tired

hi friends. lindsay again.

I've written six of these in the attempt to get the perfect one. Which kind of goes along with my life lately, chasing perfection and shenanigans like that. Which, as I've so conveniently learned while I've written six of these that have ended up in the trash, is impossible and insulting to The Lord that made me perfectly. To The Lord that made me with my stubbornness, my different colored eyes, my desire to do things the right way, my back that just won't stop, the sensitivity in my heart, and who-knows how many more things that are knit together just right to make me up.

But back to that whole perfection thing that my heart gets the wrong idea about. That perfection thing that my heart sometimes mistakes as humanly praise instead of Jesus. It gets a little confused sometimes, and so do I. But I'm not supposed to be able to do this on my own, and I'm not gonna act like I can, though sometimes I want more than anything to be able to. I'm not gonna act like I don't want to be the perfect girlfriend, the sister that calls her siblings daily (sorry guys, you know I love you), the friend that hangs out with everyone the perfect amount, or the teenager that wakes up on time every morning and gets her hair just right every single time. Because Lord knows that that's not me. Sometimes I don't do enough (or too much) in Garrett and I's relationship, sometimes I talk too much (no shocker)  when my whole family gets to be together, sometimes I hold grudges, and sometimes I wake up 30 minutes before I'm supposed to leave (and I can't say I'm sorry about it either) and a lot of times my appearance does what it wants. And a lot of times, it doesn't particularly concern me. 

But to be honest, friends, I don't see anything wrong with that. I don't see anything with being so me that I have to be held together by the glue that is Jesus, and have to be carried a lot of the time. I stumble, I fall, and I do a whole lot of other ungraceful things because when it comes to faith, I'm a klutz. But fortunately for me, Jesus is steady. On the rainy days, the sunny days, the happy day, and the sad days, He is steady all of the time and I'm learning that that's a thing to rejoice over, because I'm not even close, no matter how hard I try. And friends, when I fall, it isn't pretty.

I think I've been trying to busy myself too much lately. I got sick of everyone having plans and tournaments to go to, just because I physically can't right now. It's messed with me more mentally than it has physically, and I'm shaken up right now. And angry, extremely angry. Angry that I can't be good enough, and angry that I can't do the things right now that everyone else gets to. But, in a weird way, I'm also thankful for that. I've gotten a reality check that I'm not gonna be good enough. And it's a hard fact to realize, no matter how many times I type it. But fortunately, my God is one that finished what He starts, and one of those things just so happens to be me. 

This blog is all over the place and I'm all over the place. I'm praying for you, friends, that you'll come to whatever realization that you need to come to so that you can be happy, because we weren't put on this world to wallow in our own sorrow. And I don't intend to do that. So hold me to that, and I'll hold myself to the prayers that I promised would be said. 

We're broken, we're blessed, but thanks to the god that doesn't get tired, we're pretty beautiful. 

(And ps: I'm rebelling against the dreadful  back brace that has been mentioned in previous posts. Stay tuned.) 

Rejoice, my friends, for The Lord is good!

And He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden I am unaware of the afflictions eclipsed by glory
And I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for ME.

On this beautiful afternoon, I sit at my piano belting out these beautiful words. Belting them out when I should be in school, but instead I am home by myself and full of Advil, M&M's, uninteresting terms of biology, and still wearing that dreadful back brace. But that's ok. I'm doing pretty swell.

I've been thinking a lot about what I want this blog to be about, and what I don't want it to be about. I have been thinking about the words I want to say and how to say them, and what I want those words to portray about myself and about The Lord. Still haven't figured what I want this thing to be about (indecisive is my middle name), but I have figured out what I don't want it to be about. I don't want it to be about complaints. 1 Thessalonians 5:16 is the shortest verse in the Bible, but one of the hardest to apply to life. "Rejoice always". In my mind, we have two ways we can live life: we can rejoice a l l t h e t i m e, or we can sit and wallow in our own sorrow and complain. It's HARD to rejoice all the time. It's the last thing in our minds when things don't go our way in life (which, let's face it, is all the time) But The Lord has called us to be joyful, and joyful is a pretty sweet thing to be.

But anyways. Back to my piano and my sunny afternoon.

There are pictures hanging on the walls in the room that the piano is in of me and my two brothers as itty bitty kids. As I sang my little heart out to The Prince of Peace, I rejoiced over my life. I rejoiced over my brokenness,and how cool it's gonna be when I understand why some of the things that are happening right now are happening, and how the brokenness will become beauty. I sang for the little things, for the big things, for love, for hope, for my loving grandparents, for my beautiful and genuine YoungLife leader, for my sweet, sweet brothers, for my parents who are and have always done everything in their power to keep me at my happiest and healthiest, for my boyfriend who I don't brag on enough, for my friends at their best and my friends at their worst, for new seasons of life, for spare time, and for trust. Trust that is in the future and what it will hold for me, but more importantly who holds it for me. Wowza. That's a comforting thought.

I don't have everything together. In fact, there isn't much that I do have together. But I take delight in that, in the same way that Jesus takes delight in my pitchy voice and in my sinful self.

And that, my friends, is something to rejoice over. 

We are broken, we are bruised, but we are blessed. I write this blog as a promise to myself that I will live this life and focus on the good that is God.