Unholiness in the holy land (Or Satan can suck it)

Sunday morning in Israel. Almost every one of the other people at Jerusalem University College went to church this morning. I didn't. I slept in. And believe me, it felt glorious. Sometimes I feel like being typically "unholy" is much better spiritual discipline than being typically "holy."

I don't usually like to go really deep into spiritual or theological matters here. However, something important happened to me this week that I want to discuss.

Those that know me well know that what is probably the most important thing to me is my family. I have a rather large family, and several people who count as family despite not being related by blood. Because my family is so important to me, I find it very difficult to do too many things without my family. When I first moved away for school, it was one of the most tumultuous times in my life. It has gotten better since then, but for several reasons I have found myself very eager to be at home in the past few months.

At the beginning of this week, I traveled for two full days from Minnesota to Grand Rapids to Chicago to Istanbul to Tel Aviv and finally to Jerusalem. Incredible opportunity as this is, I found myself terribly homesick. I didn't find this that unusual.

One day, though, it got really bad. I was able to skype with my mom, sister, cousin and nephews (which is an incredible blessing), and I found myself practically weeping due to my desperate wish to be with them instead of just talking with them.

I told my mom that I was unable to sleep and that when I should've been sleeping all I could think about was being at home. My mom told me that I was in a spiritual battle, and that she had spoken to several people that were going to be praying for me during the day and while I slept that night. I went to sleep that night, soon after I talked with my mom. Although I didn't sleep perfectly, I slept much better. I woke the next day with a much more optimistic attitude.

I truly believe that my mom was right, and that a spiritual battle was won that night. I have been much more excited about where I am and the opportunity I have in the past few days. Satan preys on our weaknesses, and one of mine is that I am perhaps too dependent upon those that I love. I thank Jesus and I thank so many prayer warriors for what happened that night as I slept. Due to my physical and emotional exhuastion, there is no way I would have been able to do that on my own.

I am excited to spend the next two weeks in the holy land. And I am excited to be able to say that I am actually excited.

My heart is covered in excrement

Sometimes I feel like I'm digging through the manure pile that is my heart and shoving all the shit that resides there elsewhere.

That's what prayer is like sometimes.

Dig. Hey, God, my friends are leaving at the end of the year, and I can't take it. Slop. Here. You take it.

Dig. Hey, God, I can't figure out my semester. Slop. Why don't you?

Dig. God, money sucks and I don't want to deal with it. Slop. Can you fix that?

I'm trying to dig out all of the crap that's there in order to find something that is supposed to be beautiful. When I dig it out, I don't know where else to put it except at God's feet. It's ridiculous that he's willing to take it, but he does.

I still feel like my heart is covered in shit, but it gets better. With every shovelful I know that God is on my side.

Today ... Is difficult.

This hallelujah is to say I'm angry

To say I'm hurting

To say I don't understand

This hallelujah is to say why here, why now?

To say I'm struggling with trust

To say my heart is broken

This hallelujah is to say that I hate what you're doing to me and I kind of want out, but I'm trying, and I really need you right now.

Shall we air some more complaints?

No ... No we shall not.

I feel like I've been doing quite a bit of complaining lately. It's not really intentional. I apologize.

To balance it out, I'd like to tell a couple of stories.

In three days comes the third anniversary of the death of a beautiful woman in my church. She was in her mid twenties, and she killed herself. It simply was not fair that she died. I was not that close with her, but I was very close with some people who were close with her. Besides that, I did know her. And she belonged to my church. She was my sister. On the first anniversary of her death, I had a very bad day. I wanted to yell and scream but could not find the appropriate venue to do so. Instead, I tore myself up inside, very quietly.

That night, I was hanging out with three very dear friends. I told them about what was going on and asked them to be praying for me. The four of us went on a walk and had a lovely time hanging out at a playground at about four in the morning. There was a point where I couldn't handle laughing anymore, so I separated myself from the others and climbed onto the top of the monkey bars to look at the sky and weep. My friends took notice quickly and asked to pray with me.

It still hurts, thinking about what happened. But I am so unbelievably thankful that God gave me those three friends to comfort me and pray with me that night.

And now, during another difficult time, I've been somewhat reclusive. My roommates have, apparently, noticed. I came back to the apartment to find flowers with a note voicing their support and love in my difficult time.

Lord, you have been so faithful to me in the people you have placed around me. It sucks to say goodbye, but I know that you are with me and I know that you will always put people around me to support me. I know this because you have done so. Thank you.

Now.

I am an incredibly impatient person.

I want a lot of things, and I want them right now.

I want to be financially solvent. I want a boyfriend (I hate this about me). I want a 24oz bottle of Diet Coke or a can of DrPepper (make that two cans). I want a motorcycle. I want a friend who relies on me as much as I rely on them. I want three or four cds and a few books. I want to see my nephews. I want to go to The Melting Pot. I want to never have to stand in line again.

Unfortunately, some of those things I may never get. I will have to wait for all of them for between three months and five years (or more ... with the possible exception of the pop).

Learning to wait well is difficult.

When I wait, I'm usually waiting kicking and screaming and whining. At least internally. Why am I so impatient?

I'm not sure. I've been learning about patience. I have started to slow down and take a deep breath every time I start to get upset with someone driving slowly in front of me. I sometimes chuckle, thinking, hey, maybe God is trying to teach me patience.

What about the things I really need? What about the things I long for most? Why can't I have them?

I don't know.

I'm trying to learn to rely on God. I'm trying to let go of misplaced priorities. I'm trying to learn to wait.

God is taking care of me.

He loves me.

I can wait.