When the World Feels Silent

About a week and a half ago, I wrote this post in a moment of weakness and loneliness. I hope it can encourage you all in your lives.

Earlier today, I had a sudden overwhelming feeling that I was not wanted. That my friends from school suddenly grown tired and annoyed with me. I felt in that instant that I meant nothing to anyone I have grown to love and cherish.

“No one has really talked to me today. Or yesterday. I’ve tried to talk to everyone but no one is really responding. Have I done something wrong? Am I too much, too talkative for them? Do any of them even like me? Why do I even bother? I lose all of my friends eventually anyway. They don’t want me; no one wants me. The universe is ignoring my existence.”

These thoughts, and so many others like them, bounced around my head in the matter of seconds. And this kind of thinking has been commonplace in my life for so long. I have struggled with negative self-thinking daily, and in the past year, it has been even worse. So much so that recently, I found a journal from the fall saying, “I don’t mind shouting aimlessly into the void, as long as the void remembers to shout back from time to time.” Even then, I felt as though nothing I did ever mattered or gained attention from anyone.

And then, within the same few seconds these ideas came flooding back into my mind, so did ideas that fought back against it. “No, no daughter. No, my child, I want you, I hear you, I delight in you when you speak.”

“No, she is precious, she is needed. She is not ignored at all. He hear’s all of it, He sees all of it.”

“Stop hurting me, I am safe in God’s arms.”

For the first time I can remember, when the negative voices arose, positive ones rose up as well. Instead of being sucked into the darkness of shame, hatred, and pain, I found myself caught in the middle of a war between the lies that Satan and my own sin nature had fed me for so long, and the truth that has finally been taking hold and growing in my soul and mind. And of its own accord, without prompting from anyone of my friends that I used to cling to.

It is hours later, and since then, I have talked to most of my friends, all good, positive conversations. Yet here I am, still wrestling with myself non-stop. Constantly feeling like any second the rug could be pulled out from under me and they could all be gone in a heartbeat. Constantly reminding myself that they all love me and that they would never just leave. I have been constantly trying to remind myself to think rationally. Some of them are at work, others are living their lives with other friends who deserve just as much love and attention as I do.

I am an incredibly emotional, extroverted person. I thrive off the energy of my friends. But when they are not around and they aren’t talking to me for any number of reasons, my energy and my outlook on life drops dramatically. I am slightly ashamed about this, but I understand it is a part of who I am and who God made me to be. Thinking with introverted rationale is incredibly difficult for me.

So why now? Why has this all been happening now? Why am I fighting so vehemently

within myself tonight? Because today the universe, the void, Creation, has been silent to me. But why has it been silent today after days of being open and loud and learnable? And how do I make it stop? How do I silence the ferocity and forte of the lies?

I often have to remind myself in these moments that I am not the first person to feel as if God, the universe, everyone around them has stopped talking to them. That is one of the reasons, even before I finally handed every bit of my life over to God’s control once and for all, I felt called to write. So others will not have to feel as lonely as I do at times.

Now, in the freshness of that feeling of loneliness, I feel compelled to write through my pain. Not only to process why I am struggling so badly, but to give those who are hurting a way to ease that hurt. Most importantly, it is through moments like these where God seems to speak the loudest, where His glory shines through our cracked, clay pots the brightest.

Today, the universe was silent and ignored me, because I had ignored it. I felt disconnected and forcible removed from happiness and peace because I decided not to give my time today to God. I woke up, and immediately focused on others things rather than opening my Bible like I have been and writing in my bible study journal. Since the beginning of the month, I have consistently been desiring to read the Bible, not because I know I’m supposed to, but because I’ve been craving it. Recently, I have been getting healthier mentally, physically, and spiritually. My anxiety and such things have been the lowest and least noticeable they have been in a long time because it’s all been in God’s hands.

Today though, it seems that I did not even acknowledge God’s movement in my life. So God was silent and ignored me because I decided to ignore Him. This is not how we should handle a relationship at all! To feel the presence of God, and to see Him constantly working in our lives, we must be close enough to Him to understand that it’s all for Him in the first place.

God never desires for His children to feel lonely. In the Bible, He is constantly calling us to draw near to Him. In Isaiah 55:1-3, He calls out to those who need His compassion: “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David.”

We must be close enough to God’s Word, constantly exposing ourselves to it and the truth within, to be able to hear it, and in turn to be close enough to feel we are heard.

Learning through weakness,

Emily E. 

Beach Memories

So, as some of you may know, I have grown up in Florida. Everywhere I go, I have been asked whether I went to the beach a lot growing up, and I always have to answer yes. Recently, I've been wanting to go back for a day, just to have fun. I've also been thinking about memories about past trips, and which memories are my favorite. And I recall one vividly.

I was camping with a church group, and the teenagers had all decided to go to the beach that was across the street from the campsite. It was a terribly cloudy day, and there was a storm rolling in. We got to the boardwalk and sat there for a while, just talking. It was cold and windy and dark, but it was good. We watched the boys climb the dunes and push each other down, and we sang Disney songs like the silly children that we were.

After we got bored of the boardwalk (haha play on words), we finally walked down to the beach. And it was terrible. the wind blasted the sand against our legs and into our eyes, we felt the ocean spray stick to our arms. But it was wonderful at the same time. The smell of the salt and rain on the horizon, and the gulls were sitting on their nests, waiting for the rain to come. We stood around watching the waves, sticking our feet into the freezing waters. There was a thunderstorm warning, and the foam on the waves was incredibly thick.

It was awful, but yet it wasn't. Because it was one of those moments where I felt a sense of peace that you can  only feel when surrounded by your friends with the natural silence of a collective state of contentment. We didn't care that it was cold. We didn't care that we had sand sticking to us, we had each other, and it was good.

In Canada, I learned of the Hebrew word Tov. Many people sometimes get this word's definition confused with the word perfection. But tov does not mean perfect. It literally translates to "the way I intend to be." It is a word of reverence, of awe and a word of peace. It is that stillness you feel where, no matter what else is wrong with the world, at that moment, everything is okay. It is a word you say with peace, after something beautiful. Many of my beach memories have been ones that I associate with tov. Because at the end of your time there, you walk back up the beach and you look back one last time, and you smile. Because you had fun (hopefully), and something about the beach just makes you feel a little bit closer to nature and to God.

As the weeks pass and the countdown to Liberty gets shorter, I've realized a lot of things. I realize that I'm not going to have the chance to make anymore of those memories. I'll be in the mountains of Virginia, not the beaches of Florida. I'll have more moments of tov,but they wont be the same kind of moments. They'll be mountain memories, which are just as lovely in my mind as beach memories. But I'll have a new set of friends, a new set of souls to share these memories with, and part of me is feeling bittersweet about this. I think my friends and my family and I are all starting to realize that me, and a couple of other friends, are leaving to start a new part of our lives. We are going off to follow God's call for our lives, and we may not ever come back home. And so we have all decided to make this summer, the best summer ever. We have decided that we are going to pack as much into these months as we can. And we still have a lot of things planned. This is going to be a summer of tov. And while some things may not end up the way we think they will be, in the end, the camaraderie and the friendships we deepen and cement are going to be the ones I remember. I'll forget high school memories, but I won't forget the times when we face changes.

Change is scary, I'm not going to lie. I'm going to go away and my friends are going to keep living life without me. And when I come back for visits, things are going to have continued without me. And while I experienced that some when I was in Canada, it's going to be so much harder I think, because I know that I'm going to keep moving on, and I'm going to start my life as an adult, I'm going to be studying to start my career and keep moving forward, and everyone else is going to go in different directions. And while this is normal and is nothing to be afraid of, it still leaves me wondering, what is going to be my next tov moment? Who is going to be with me when I make an everlasting memory?

But, with this idea of tov, I remember that it's not about change, or about perfection, it's about peace. And peace is somthing that I don't naturally have a lot of. And so, I strive for peace in my life. I strive for peace in my worrying, for peace in my decisions. Because that is tov.

Emily E.

Christianity and the Love of Jesus

So last night at church, we were talking about how Jesus told his first disciples to come and see, and follow Him. It got me thinking on Jesus's doctrines and lifestyle in general, and I realized something. Our Christian culture today, when trying to evangelize, tend to use either a fire and brimstone, you're going to hell if you don't believe in Jesus approach, or the happy happy happy everything is fine and dandy approach.

Neither of those are correct, but I want to focus on the fire and brimstone. I think today's North American church is all about getting as many people converted, and they aren't particularly focused on their spiritual health. We are constantly looking for the next soul to save, the next poor tortured person to pull from the grip of Hell, but for what? Where do we go with that conversation after saying, "Congratulations, you are now exempt from the fiery pits of Hell." Well, in a lot of instances, we don't do anything. We say good job, give them a pat on the back, then move on. And frankly, I don't think that's what Jesus would have wanted.

Jesus operated on the idea of love and mercy, not shame and judgement. And I don't think that's taught enough within the church, so it most certainly isn't taught outside of the church. And for that, I am truly sorry.

I grew up in a Baptist Church that became non-denominational while we were there, and I accepted Jesus into my heart at six years old, because I was afraid to go to hell. As a six year old, I was truly afraid, I wasn't looking for a relationship with a Savior, I was looking for a rescue. And after I found that rescue, I wanted to keep my Savior happy by doing what I was supposed to do. I wanted to follow the rules for fear of being punished. I realize now that probably wasn't the best way to go about things.

I am not saying my salvation at six years old was not real, because it was. But when I was in Vancouver over the summer, I didn't just realize that Christ's actions were out of love. I fell in love with a dead Man. Because that's what Christ was about. His actions were always backed by love, mercy, grace, forgiveness. And I saw that in Vancouver. I saw love in action, I wanted to become that love in action. So if you know me personally, and you hear me talk about how amazing Vancouver was, that's why. Because I fell in love with my Savior there.

Imagine it this way: A Prince and his Father looked around and saw that all of their people were doomed. And the only way they could fix it was to send the Prince to die in everyone's place. So He does. He steps down from his throne, willingly, and He lives life like his people. He actually ends up living worse than some of his people. He doesn't have a permanent home, he travels all the time. He goes around trying to woo his people, trying to tell them how much He loves them, and that soon He is going to die for them. And some of them believed Him, and some didn't. But eventually, they all realized that He was right. And some of them got upset, but the Prince said, "It's okay, I'm going to come back." And then He was killed. Brutally, disgustingly, in a way a Prince should not have to suffer. But He did; He was tortured, and he was beaten, and it was deplorable. And He died. And He stayed dead. And his followers, who loved Him, were discouraged, because one day passed, and then another, and still the Prince hadn't come back. But He said He would, they all thought, Surely the Prince would be able to cheat death. But He still did not come back. But the next day, they went to visit the tomb, and they discovered that the tomb was empty. Their Prince was gone! And He was with them again! For more than a month, He spent time with them, until he had to return to the throne. His job was done, and He had to go back to help His Father. But that didn't make Him love His people any less, He just loves them from a position of power.

At 18 years old, after having struggled to justify why I believed what I did, I realized, because I was loved. My entire life had been a process of Jesus wooing me to him through his love and sacrifice. And how, after seeing everything that He had done for me, could I say no?

I couldn't say no. It didn't make sense. I had nothing to live for except for Him, and He had already died for me. So what could I give Him in return to show my love? My life. I gave Him my life. And it hasn't been easy, in fact, I have found that I am just as moody some days now than I was before I discovered this love, but I always manage to catch a glimpse of a little miracle, of a flower opening, or a rabbit in the backyard eating, or of a baby crying, or of the sunset. And I remember, I am loved. And I am in love with a dead Man.

I want to love others that same way. I want to love with no boundaries, with nothing held back. I want to live with love constantly pouring out from every particle of my being. I want to be a walking billboard of love.

Emily E.

Mugshot Metaphor Project Submission

My style is like the weather. Bright, colorful and cheery one day, and sad, bleak, and gloomy the next. My style does not determine my outlook on life, nor does it define my life and my surroundings. My style will lead others to determine how they treat me though, whether it be good or bad. My style is like the weather, strong and confident. It embodies my personality, and it shines through the dark with the power of the sun. My style empowers me, it does not inhibit me. I make the best with what I've got, and I will not let it pull me down. My style is like the weather, ever changing and ever surprising. It changes with the seasons, and it never seems to stay constant. My style is like the weather, powerful and a force to be reckoned with. Not everyone will like my style; not everyone will like the weather. But do not judge me by my style, #judgemebythecontentofmycharacter.

My mind is like a tornado, constantly spinning and going and crashing through life. It takes an idea and turns it on its head, it obliterates it and leaves the pieces behind. It never stops until it runs out of energy, too exhausted to go on any farther. It leaves broken hearts and broken buildings in its wake. My mind is like a tornado. A buildup of pressurized passion mixed with the winds of creativity. My mind is like a tornado, spinning ideas into dreams and dreams into visions, and visions in goals. My mind will leave you bewildered, reaching for a stronghold against it's sheer knowledge. But do not judge me by my mind, #judgemebythecontentofmycharacter.

This was a project i had to do in Advanced Writing. We had to choose an aspect of us that is often misread or misunderstood and make it into a metaphor. I really enjoyed this assignment and thought I would share it with you all.

Emily E.

Domestic Skills and Reading Recipes

 

Last week, I had the opportunity to cook for my family twice. One recipe turned out quite successful, the other one did...not. Well, it did with the help of some maternal intervention. The first thing, some Brazilian cheese bread that is supposed to be for sandwiches (we ate it with our soup like pull apart bread), turned out delicious! I did exactly what the box said, and it all went smoothly. The second dish, a spinach and ham quiche, was almost a disaster. I did not properly read the recipe and almost made a nasty pie. Mom came and checked on it when I put it in the oven and fixed, though.

The recipe called for cream, but we didn't have any, so I just ignored that part. It also said to chop the spinach, which I didn't do. Mom then reminded me, that if I take something out of a recipe, I have to put something else in as a replacement, which in this case would be milk.

I think we as Christians do this sometimes. We will follow the plan God has set out for us, and everything will turn out great. Then we get prideful and say "God, do you see how well I handled that situation? I think I did pretty good, yeah? I don't need Your help this time, okay. Go take care of someone else." And we end up misreading the instructions (the Bible) and making one big mess. And then God steps in and reminds us that we need to read the instructions very carefully and do exactly what they say.

A recipe isn't there to keep you from having fun in the kitchen, is it? No, it gives you guidance on how to make (hopefully) delicious and healthy food that you can enjoy.  The same goes for God's Law. It is not to keep you from having free reign to do whatever you choose. It is there to help us along so that we may get the most out of this life and the next.

We all misread instructions from time to time, but God is good about watching His children and steering them back in the right direction.

Learning to read it all the first time,
Emily E.