The Truth Of Thirst

We've all had those moments.

These moments,

Those days,

When you look around and think,

"I've got nothing left to give.

I've got nothing left to give,

And I'm not even sure what I am giving even means anything."

You're not sure you have anything left to give,

But still,

You get up,

Drag your feet out of bed,

And think,

Even if you never say it out loud,

" I hope no one sees how empty I feel today.

I hope no one can tell,

Because then, what will they think?

And if I do say those words,

I'm empty,

Who will listen,

And not judge?"

There was a women in the Bible that felt this same way,

The Samaritan woman,

A woman who in the eyes of her city was an embarrassment,

The topic of town gossip,

The woman that no one wants their daughter to grow up and be like.

Jesus made a pit stop in this woman's town.

Sat down at the well,

The center of Samaria,

The place where people gathered,

And sat,

And I believe,

Waited for this woman.

This woman that showed up at the hottest time of day to avoid the stares,

And the whispers.

This woman,

Who showed up to fill her water bucket,

But whose soul probably felt dry too.

Emptied by the years of giving away the best part of herself to men,

Emptied by shame,

And embarrassment,

And pure desperation.

And Jesus,

Instead of seeing what she did,

Or who people said she was,

Saw who she really was,

A woman who needed love,

And affirmation,

But believed the lies that whispered softly in her ear,

"You are what you've done.

You'll never be any different.

This is the best you've got.

You are not loved

You are not seen

You can never be filled."

Jesus saw this woman,

He offered up the only answer to her deep thirst.

Deep and filling love.

But first,

She had to ask.

She had to look past the shame,

And embarrassment,

And bravely ask,

To be filled,

To fill her emptiness,

And through that filling see,

That Jesus,

Saw her exactly as she was,

Saw her better then she was,

Not broken and ignored

But as beautiful and seen.

And He wanted to fill that deepest part of her,

The part that was empty,

The part that believed that she had nothing left to give.

The part that believed the lies.

But, she first had to ask.

To muster up the bravery,

Push past the fear of being judged,

And ask to be seen,

To be known,

To be filled.

Jesus see me.

Jesus know me,

Jesus fill me.

I ask those same prayers.

I invite you to ask those same prayers as well.

And hear those same truths,

That were true for that Samaritan woman,

And true for you today.

No matter your season,

You are seen.

No matter what you try to hide behind,

You are known,

And no matter how empty you feel,

You have the ability to be filled.

Jesus see me.

Jesus know me,

Jesus fill me.

Choosing to See

Recently, I've been struggling with the idea of community.

I've always been that girl that's surrounded by friends.

And not in a way the way that I wake up, look in the mirror and think " everyone wants to hang out with me".

But in a way that I truly thrive off of people.

And so I seek people out.

And I've been lucky enough that each season of my life has taken me to a place  where my idea of community has thrived,

When I was bored I always had someone to call,

Someone was willing to hang out,

Or sit on the couch and watch disgusting amounts of reality tv,

And those days could spread to the night,

Because we were the only ones we had to think about,

And we loved Tyra Banks.

But recently I've noticed,

In this season of change,

This past year-ish of life that has been sweet,

And scary,

And exciting,

And hard,

That this definition of community has had to look different,

Because all of a sudden, I've looked around,

And my people have new people,

Boyfriends and husbands and children,

And those people trump the ability to sit on the couch and binge on cookie dough and practicing "smizing" with your eyes.

Those people are more important,

And they should be more important,

And seasons of life ebb and flow,

But as someone who is just beginning to enter into this season where one man has to become my priority,

I've felt this change of community,

And I've taken it poorly.

I've cried,

I've pouted,

I've avoided the phone,

And I've tried to avoid the danger of emotionally eating by choosing to eat an insane amount of rice cakes which, word to wise, helps very little with a chocolate craving. Just eat one scoop of icecream and call it a day. 

I've had lots of conversations with Jesus because at the end of the day,

I missed what I had,

And longed for what's ahead,

And saw nothing but loneliness in the current. 

But this weekend, I was given another picture of God's faithfulness and sweetness,

And was reminded that no matter the season, you can find community,

If you're willing to look.

If you're willing to stop comparing to what has been,

And what could be,

And simply sit in the now.

Sit in the sweetness of breakfast conversations,

And Panera run ins,

And home cooked dinners that you can attend while wearing your pajamas,

And couch dreamings,

And choose to see what God has placed in front of you.

To choose to see the His faithfulness,

And choose to stop comparing,

And choose to just be.

My community may look different,

And it may involve more nights at home,

And less Tyra Banks.

But in the end, it's just as sweet,

And just as real,

And just as necessary.

And that even as seasons of life change, 

And my picture of community morphs,

I have a God that is ever constant,

And who longs for my heart to be close enough to His,

To see where the sweetness in this seasons lies. 

God of Empathy

If you had to list out the qualities of Jesus,

Whether you believe He actually is the Son of God or not,

I'm sure you could come up with a pretty long list.

Loving,

Patient,

Kind,

Wise,

Humble,

Selfless,

Giving,

The list could go on and on.

But this morning,

I discovered a new adjective to add to that list,

Empathetic.

Having the ability to relate and understand another person's feelings and emotions.

It's different then sympathetic. 

Sympathy sounds like:

It's going to be OK.

Tomorrow will be better.

Look on the bright side.

Empathy sounds like:

I've been there too. I know this hurts.

It's ok to be sad.

I'm here for you, whatever you need.

The truest form of empathy comes when you've experienced the same thing that another person is going through,

And can look back and remember how much it hurt,

How deep the pain seemed,

How much it stung,

How hopeless it felt,

And not expect those persons feelings to go away overnight.

The truest form of empathy comes from having been, or being in, a similar state and not offering any solutions,

But simply a listening ear.

And when I read this verse today in Hebrews, 

It made it crystal clear to me why Jesus,

Who I believe to be the Son of God,

Had to come and live on Earth among us so that

"He would have already experienced it all himself- all the pain, all the testing- and would be able to help where help was needed" ( Hebrews 2:18, The Message)

Jesus had to come to live on Earth,

So he could understand the hurt of being let down by friends,

The pain of feeling like an outcast,

The sting of not living up to others expectations,

And how hopeless it felt to have to wait patiently for what you knew was yours.

Jesus had to come to Earth so that when inevitably we feel the hurt of being let down by friends,

The pain of feeling like an outcast,

The sting of not living up to others expectations,

And the hopelessness of having to wait patiently for what you knew was yours,

He wouldn't just be a God we could reach out to for sympathy,

A God who would say:

It's going to be OK.

Tomorrow will be better.

Look on the bright side.

He would be a God of empathy,

 A God who could look back and remember how much it hurt,

How deep the pain seemed,

How much it stung,

How hopeless it felt,

And sit with us and say:

I've been there too. I know this hurts.

It's ok to be sad.

I'm here for you, whatever you need.

The truest form of empathy comes when you've experienced the same thing that another person is going through,

And I find it so comforting to know that the person I cry out to in times of need,

The Son of God,

The creator of the universe,

A man who walked the Earth,

Knows exactly I'm coming from.

Learning to Yearn

Today I sat next to a dried up lake and cried.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with my life.

My life is great.

I have so many things that I prayed for,

And yet,

I still want.

I want for more.

For more satisfaction.

For more joy.

For more peace.

For more contentment.

How is that I can have so much,

But still want for so much more?

And how do I learn to sit in a place of contentment?

How do I learn not to yearn for more?

But here's what I'm starting to figure out,

God desires us to want more.

But not more things,

Or more relationships,

Or more adventures,

Or more success,

God wants us to yearn for more of  Him. 

He wants our heart to yearn for more satisfaction,

For more peace,

For more joy,

For more contentment,

Because there's nothing we can do that can bring all of those things except to face that yearning,

To sit in front of a dried up lake and cry,

And recognize that yearning. 

He wants us to yearn 

And realize that more satisfaction,

More joy,

More peace,

More contentment,

Can only come from Him.

And when we begin to recognize that, our yearning begins to look different.

We begin to yearn for things that stir our souls,

Relationships with the one who created us,

Adventures with that can only be had by giving up our own plans and trusting this God unseen,

And success in resting in knowing our worth doesn't come from our success.

Today I yearn for more.

Today I want to learn to yearn for the more that will truly fulfill. 

Twenty Something

Being a twenty something is hard.

So many people have refered to these years as the "best years of your life"

But really, I think people should probably be a little more honest.

These years are full of fun,

And  full of the least amount of responsibility you'll ever have while having all of the perks of being an adult,

But still these years feel full.

Full of decisions,

Full of choices,

Full of big moments,

All while you're trying just to figure it all out.

I think God designed the twenty something years specifically so we would learn to trust.

Because really,

How else are you supposed to make a career choice fresh out of four years of clubs and paper writing and entire days spent in the dining hall if you don't trust that even if you make a wrong choice, you will still be OK?

How are you supposed to learn that friendships change and morph and look different if you don't trust that even though it may look different, these friendships are not any less important?

How are you supposed to choose the person you spend your life with if you don't trust that in 30 years, when you're not as attractive, and tired from the wear and tear of life, that you will still get those butterflies when you catch each other's eyes across the room?

How are you supposed to learn to be a grownup if you don't trust that this life,

That looks a little more scary,

A little more full,

A little more tiring,

Then you thought it would when you were in your teen-something years,

Is going to also be

A little more joyful,

A little more grace filled,

A little more adventurous,

Then your twenty something self could have ever dreamed?

That in the midst of the "best years of your life"

You are going to be asked to dream big,

And watch your story change before your eyes,

And see prayers answered,

And start new jobs,

And move,

And laugh, 

And watch your friends change their last names,

And begin thinking about changing your own. 

That in the middle of the " best years of your life",

You are going to see some dreams fail,

And watch your story change in ways you never hoped it would,

And have prayers go unanswered,

And end jobs,

And leave your home,

And cry,

And sit with your friends who dream of changing their last names, 

Or friends who long to be mommys and daddy's,

Or simply sit in moments of brokenness.

How could you get through a season like your twenty somethings,

The season full of decisions,

And life change, 

Without trust?

And when I sit right in the middle of this season,

This season that is 

 a little more scary,

A little more full,

A little more tiring,

A little more joyful,

A little more grace filled,

A little more adventurous

Then I imagined they would be,

I think that these "best years of my life"

May be the best years of my life because it's the years that I learned to choose to trust,

And rely,

And believe,

That each season,

Will be full,

And no matter what they're full of,

I have a God who I can fully trust with each season.

One Day At A Time

One day at a time.

It's what everyone says.

Take it one day at a time.

But sometimes, taking things one day at a time seems nearly impossible.

Because this day is full of worries,

And full of doubts,

About the next day,

Or the day after that,

Or the week after that,

Or the year after that.

One day at a time feels impossible,

When all the worries,

And concerns,

And fears, 

Of the next day's take over this day.

How do you take on this day,

When the days to come feel too big?

When the days to come feel too unknown?

When the days to come feel too much?

On this day,

When days to come feel unknown or scary,

Choose to remember,

That God,

In His moments of creation,

Took things one day at a time.

God could have clapped his hands,

Or wiggled his nose,

Or coughed,

And all of creation could have appeared.

But instead,

He took it day by day.

He created light and darkness,

He created water and sky,

He created land and ocean,

He created plants,

He created the sun and the moon and the stars,

He created animals,

And finally he created His prized possessions,

His favorite masterpiece,

He created humans.

And each creation had it's own day,

It's own unique elements,

And at the end of every day God choose to take a step back and say,

This, 

This day,

This creation,

This is good.

And even though He knew the mess we were going to make of his creation,

He took the time to step back,

And only focus on the trials of that day.

So today, choose to step back.

In the midst of change,

And uncertainty,

In the midst of fear,

Choose to step back and focus on today,

On the fact that even if every fear comes true,

Every unknown becomes known,

If tomorrow really is too big,

That today, we can step back and simply say,

Today, 

Today it was good.

And maybe, by learning to take that step back,

We'll learn that maybe those fears aren't so scary,

And the unknown isn't so bad,

And that days might not seem too big,

When we recognize that if we can call today good,

We can do the same for those tomorrows. 

The Place

I sit here today marveling at the difference a year can make.

A year ago, I sat tired, confused, scared about what my next step in life would be.

I could feel God pulling me away from a place that I loved,

People I loved,

A place where beautiful friendships were formed,

And for the first time, I felt like being Katie,

Just truly being me,

Was a great person to be.

This place brought me life,

It brought me growth,

It brought me joy,

It brought me a greater faith.

But yet, still,

I felt a tugging,

Actually, more like a ripping,

Because I'm stubborn, and such brute force was probably necessary.

A ripping,

A call,

A yell,

That my heart was supposed to find rest somewhere else.

And I resented that call,

I resented being called away from a place that I felt so much at home,

But yet,

Through the tears,

And through the fighting,

And through the confusion,

My heart was still tugged,

And I found myself ripped out of my comfort zone.

My heart was no longer at home,

My heart was no longer at peace,

My heart was tender,

And fragile,

And scared.

And today, I sit grateful for that ripping.

Because without the ripping,

My heart would never have been tender enough to experience all of the gifts that came from this next leap.

Without the overwhelming tenderness,

My heart would never have been able to experience the overwhelming relief that comes from mourning a loss,

And watching your heart grow from it.

Without the loneliness of sitting in an apartment alone,

There would not have been the gratefulness that comes when a new friend opens up the door of their home.

Without the fear of living the rest of your life single in the suburbs,

There would never have been the joy in seeing God craft your own personal love story.

Without the ripping,

There would never have been the laughing,

And the missing,

And the stretching,

And the loving,

And the gratefulness,

And the tears,

And the discovery,

That sometimes, all of these things can stem out of a place of pain.

That sometimes,

It's a place of pain,

A place of wandering,

A place of leaping,

A place of not knowing,

That can be the place of the greatest growth,

The greatest joy,

And in return,

The greatest faith.