"Espero"

Native English-speakers use so many words.  Millions of them.  We have formal and slang words. We often have several different words to describe the same emotion or object. We even invent words -- and use them (YOLO, bae -- and so on)!  But for all our words, I still occasionally find that even my complex English can fall to its knees in the wake of the simplest word spoken in another language. 

Like tonight.

For awhile now, I have been learning Spanish as I walk forward into preparation for international work and ministry, which I believe God is calling me to do with my life. (For more on how that came about, click here.) 
Spanish is a beautiful language.  It is complex yet gracefully simple.  I am now at the point where I can converse [very simply] with native speakers (who are remarkably patient with me), and few things give me more joy.  
Because I am learning, my brain hears a string of Spanish words and then whirrs into action, hastily calculating, translating, and rearranging the Spanish words until they make sense to me in English.  When I understand the meaning in English, I then re-arrange, re-translate, and "mentally file" the Spanish phrase -- successfully learned.  (Learning is exhausting sometimes.)  

However, sometimes it takes just one word to stop me in my tracks.

Tonight I was listening to worship in Spanish, and I was thrilled by how easily and quickly my mind was recognizing and understanding the words.  I felt such freedom to worship in my new second language!  
The music continued, "Espero aqui . . . ."
My brain snagged, and the mental hole ripped open wider and wider as I continued to translate the rest of the sentence, but simultaneously remain fixated on that one word.

Espero.  

Something wasn't quite right.  I knew that word, didn't I?  I quickly identified what the problem was.  Why my brain couldn't translate it immediately.

It has more than one meaning.         

I don't often encounter Spanish words that have more than one meaning (as is common in English).  Maybe it's because I'm not that advanced yet, but this word threw me for a loop.  

Espero is the I-form of the verb Esperar, which means, "to wait."  It also means, "to hope."  
I wasn't sure whether to translate "espero" as "I wait", or "I hope".  And just like that, I felt God smile in my heart.  Exactly, He seemed to say.

English-speakers have differentiated between the two words, giving them not only different names but dissimilar meanings and associations.  But in Spanish, the two actions are represented by one word, one concept.  If I am waiting for God to move, Espero.  If I am hoping for God to move, Espero.  

In most cases, waiting is a form of hoping.  And sometimes, hoping does mean waiting.  I know for a fact that God is calling me to begin treating waiting and hoping as the same verb.  As Esperar.

This summer, a friend told me that there is little point in "trusting God" if hope is not attached to that trust.  Hopeless "trust" is really just "resignation" wearing a Christian mask.  How often I have succumbed to resignation in my faith-walk, convinced that God might show Himself good in my life someday, but until then, I couldn't expect a life of abundance or joyful intimacy with God -- or a faith that "worked."   Sometimes I find it ironic that many Christians feel the same way, yet spend their whole lives trying to convince others to adopt a faith that isn't even "working" for them! 
Has life dealt you some blows?  Do you owe the enemy a few?  I sure do.  And I want to hit him hard when I do.  This leads me to ask you a few questions that I've already asked myself:

1.  Do you believe God is good?
2.  Do you believe that God's heart toward you is good?
3.  Do you believe that God will be good . . . to you?
4.  Do you believe that God will do what He says He will do?

God hasn't just told us that we can trust Him.  He's shown us.  I don't have to look far to know with conviction that God can take the ugliest mess, the most searing pain, and the deepest darkness . . . and completely transform them into radiant beauty, gentle wisdom, and triumphant healing.  This God can raise hope from the ashes of shattered dreams.  He can make clear roadways where there appear to be only brick walls.  He can bring monsoon rains to desert souls, and suddenly, tangibly fulfill promises long-awaited.  This God can most definitely be trusted.  When He speaks a word, He will bring it about. 

If you are in a waiting season, how would you characterize your waiting?  Do you wait with resignation?  Do you wait with bitterness or despair?  Would you dare to say, "I wait with hope?"  Do you trust Him enough to go before Him, nestle into His everlasting arms, and whisper, "Espero"?

I have decided that life without hope in God is no life at all.  With God's help to keep my heart strong during seasons of waiting, I will continue to say, "¡Espero!"  May He breathe hope into you as well.

Dios contigo. <3

When Grace Spoke

Outside my window right now, storm clouds are hovering and wind is combing the tangles out of the tree branches.  But no rain.  Perhaps it is too warm outside, and the rain is evaporating before it hits the ground.  I can't help wondering, however, what the earth would look like if the clouds released their fury and the storm was set at liberty.

The thirsty ground would receive water,
The wind would clean the air,
The old would pass and the new would come.

I returned home for the summer without much of an agenda, but knowing my God definitely has one.  He promised that He would give me Himself, and that He was all I needed.  Sounds like a beautiful storm, if you ask me!  Every day so far I have eagerly anticipated the restorative work He has promised to do.
So has the rain come?  Has the wind come to usher out the old and bring in the new?
Not just yet.  

Why not?  I was asking that question until today.  

Last summer, I learned a lot about myself, including that I have tendencies to strive for perfection, to strive for "progress."  Long-term trusting with few results wears down my resolve to trust, and I lapse into striving.  My wound-up-tight heart condemns my lack of progress and grows more and more convinced that God is waiting on me to get my act together before He comes in and does His restorative work.  

God surprised me today.  I sat down to spend time with Him, and five minutes in, I could once again sense that nothing was going to happen.  I felt sort of disgusted until God spoke to my heart.

Will you let Me?
Will you let Me heal you?  
Will you let Me pursue your heart?
Will you let Me restore you and bring abundance?
I want to do this for you.
Will you let Me?

My impulse was to hurriedly say, "Yes, of course, God -- I've been waiting for You to do it!"

Will you let Me?

"God, of course -- yes.  Haven't I been waiting for --"

Will you LET Me?

It took a minute or two, but it finally dawned on me.  The storm has been hovering over my head the whole time.  The wind has been brushing against me like a lovely invitation.  But I haven't given the rain permission to fall.  I've been too busy holding a leaky gardening hose over the soil of my heart, trying to "help God along" and "get my act together" so it can finally rain for real.

The rain has been right above my head the whole time, but I was too busy striving . . . striving . . . .

I looked down at the page.  Psalm 46:10, "Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth."

The whisper again,
I want to do this for you.  
Cease striving . . . and let Me.

God never operates through guilt, manipulation, or stress.  He never demands that a heart "get its act together" before He moves.  All He requires is a heart that yields to His touch and that chooses to rest in grace, not trying to "accomplish" anything or trying to "clean itself up" before presenting itself to Him.  Not trying to "help Him along" so that the healing can come faster.

Grace speaks soothingly to the red-faced, crying child and whispers, It's okay.
Grace whispers, I know.
It mattered.
It matters.
You're safe now.  

When grace calms that angst-ridden, weeping child (look into the face of that child . . . doesn't he or she look rather familiar?  Could it be you?), that child can look up through bleary eyes and see Love. 

Grace allows you to admit that you've taken some hits on the battlefield.  Grace gives you the ability to simply lie on the stretcher and let the Physician restore what's been damaged.  Grace gives you the freedom to cry, to breathe, to rest, to laugh, to love, to dance, to be.  And somewhere along the way, as you danced with Jesus and soaked up the lavish love He rained upon you, you realize the healing came when you weren't even aware.       
  
For the heart that strives: Grace.
For the heart that grieves: Grace.
For the heart that rushes ahead in excitement and stumbles: Grace.
For the heart that wanders and doubts: Grace.
For my heart; for your heart.

Breathe in, breathe out: Grace.

(P.S. Outside my window, it's raining now.)

Where My Trust is Without Borders

I kept as quiet as possible so no one could hear me, and I hid behind a wall so no one could see me.  But I wasn't the only one who saw my tears splashing the bathroom floor at school.

A dream shattered.  Well, not shattered, really.  But delayed.  Delays can be shattering sometimes.
"God, what now?  Did you hear her?  At least two more years, and maybe more!  All I was trying to do was obey You . . . . I never even wanted this in the first place . . . . I said yes to this crazy idea just because You told me to.  Two more years . . . ."

But like I said, I wasn't the only person who noticed my tears splotching the floor of the ladies' room at school on October 16th, 2013.

That Voice I've come to know so well, that loving, gentle nudge in my spirit, spoke.

I've got this.

Five Minutes Earlier

At the beginning of the semester, my program director at school had told me that in my current early childhood education track, I would be qualified to teach internationally (which is what I believe God is now leading me to do as of this summer, and I'm walking forward obediently in that, trusting and hoping).  However, after I brought her some more information about the schools I was researching in other countries, and what those schools require of their teachers, she shook her head.

This degree will not be sufficient . . . you will need extra certification . . . you're looking at two more years of school at least, and after that, who knows . . . . Jordan, you are Not Qualified.

It seems ironic.  Not qualified to obey God.  I believe that if God wants you to do something, He qualifies you to do it.  But sometimes, obeying God means seeking extra training in the area to which He's called you.  Hiding in the bathroom at school, I had to face my new reality: transferring was now my only option.  I'd spent three years at that community college, and they had been three of the darkest and most challenging years of my life -- how tempting in that moment to feel like it had all been wasted.

Where Trust is Without Borders

I was broken.  The news about my degree only added insult to injury, because there were several other personal crises that were causing me extreme anguish at that time.  Please give me grace for not going into the details; the reason I mention them is because you can only truly see the breathtaking power of my God if you first understand that there was an incredible amount of private suffering in my life.

In that week (and many weeks since), I spent hours surrendering, praying for guidance, and searching the Bible.  In Isaiah, I kept coming across verses like these:

"Behold, the former things have come to pass; now I declare new things; before they spring forth I proclaim them to you." -Isaiah 42:9

"I will lead the blind by a way they do not know; in paths they have not known I will guide them.  I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground.  These are the things I do, and I will not leave them undone." -Isaiah 42:16

"Do not call to mind the former things, or ponder things of the past.  Behold, I will do something new!  Now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it?  I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, rivers in the desert." -Isaiah 43:18-19

"You have heard; look at all this.  And you, will you not declare it?  I proclaim to you new things from this time, even hidden things which you have not known." -Isaiah 48:6

I sensed God was up to something, and I could feel anticipation mounting.  My response was to keep praying, and to worship.  The lyrics to "Oceans" by Hillsong United became my prayer:

Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders,
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me.
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander,
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior.

And then . . .

New Things

Here is something I discovered: those lyrics are scary.  And if you truly make them your prayer and mean it with all your heart, watch out.  Your life will flip upside down.  Think about it: what are we  really asking?  "Lord, whatever You call me to do, or whatever situation You call me into, let it be that I would have to walk on water in order to follow You.  Let it defy rationality.  Let it defy reasoning.  Let it defy all other voices that are telling me I will drown.  And while You're at it, take me deeper than what is humanly possible into whatever it is You have for me."

Scary prayers.  Prayers that God answers.

My mom and I began searching for Christian universities that had my major.  We prayed over each step and narrowed the list down to six.  From that point, my mom told me to research each of the six on my own and draw my own conclusions (she would do the same), and then we would compare notes.

I got online and researched each university.  For five of the six, I found something that gave me a strong red flag -- a dealbreaker.  Sometimes the program was a wrong fit; sometimes it was something about the university itself.  But in the end, there was only one university that I had complete peace about; the only one whose program seemed incredibly tailor-fit for me; and ironically, the one I'd been advised to look into ever since this summer on The Experience (I didn't think anything of it at the time because I thought I would get all the training I needed at my community college)!  It seemed . . . too perfect.  I honestly felt frustrated.
I told my mom about my results.  "Maybe I'm biased because I was told to look into this particular university this summer.  But I looked at all six and have been praying so hard . . . this is the only one I still feel complete peace about."
I did not expect my mom to say that she had come to the same conclusion.

I called Mount Vernon Nazarene University that day.

One Word That Snowballed

Through conversations with the wonderful staff at MVNU, scripture, and prayer, God confirmed to me several times that He wanted me to transfer to MVNU, and at first that was so exciting!  As November wore on, however, the newness wore off, my personal suffering remained, and I assumed that I had a long road still ahead for me in Michigan.  God is never in a hurry, right?

I dully continued with my plans to remain at my community college, graduate in May with a degree that would do me no good (according to my program director), and then transfer to MVNU next fall, if I were to be accepted.  Thinking about my certain future (which was so in contrast with my old dream of graduating in May and then jumping right into international work) sucked the last flicker of life out of my already broken spirit.  But I was resolved to say YES to whatever God told me to do.  If He wanted me to finish here and then transfer for 2-3 more years, I would do it because I loved Him and wanted to obey Him.  My purpose in life is to bring Him glory, and if He would be glorified through this, then so be it.

One morning I was up before dawn for work and was reading my Bible, troubled, as usual, by the school situation.  My mind wandered for a few minutes, and as it did, one word suddenly dropped into my mind, completely unexpected and uninvited.

February.

I knew exactly what that meant, and I immediately recoiled. "No, God!  I can't drop everything and transfer in February!  I can't just leave my job.  I can't just leave Michigan after this semester.  I only have one semester left.  Don't You want me to do things the long way?  No, not February.  I know it's my imagination." I quickly dropped the subject and left for work.
But the word remained burned in my mind.  It drove me crazy!  I dreaded the thought of leaving my job, knowing it would put my boss in a very tough position.

My advisor at MVNU told me that if I chose Mount Vernon as the place to continue my education, it would make more sense financially for me to transfer for the spring semester, instead of finishing my degree at my community college and then having to re-take the student teaching practicum.
"Okay," I said slowly, "so when does the spring semester start?"
"February," he replied.

Suddenly, life became a whirlwind.  Right around that time, God led me to a story in the Old Testament that blatantly confirmed that I was to leave now instead of waiting.  Didn't He realize what He was asking me to do?  Leave my financial security and do something crazy, something that could cause people to make incorrect judgements about me or my motives?  I wasn't even accepted by Mount Vernon yet!

And now the words of my earnest prayer came back to me as a gentle but firm reminder:
Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders,
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me . . . .

Walking on Water

Although I had a pretty good idea that the answer was YES to Mount Vernon and YES to February, I still registered for my last semester of classes at my community college and pressed forward with the paperwork for those classes.  The deadline to submit the paperwork was just before Thanksgiving, and as that day approached, the Lord convicted me that I was arranging a Plan B just in case He didn't come through!

The day of the deadline arrived.  All morning at work, I felt Him asking in my spirit, Do you trust Me enough to let go of your Plan B?
My answer had to be YES.  I decided not to submit my paperwork for next semester at the community college.  A radical decision.  Now I was really throwing myself on God in trusting dependence.

Only a few hours later, my phone rang.  I was officially accepted to Mount Vernon as a transfer student for February 2014!

Once I'd decided to obey, give two months' notice at my job, and put things in motion with Mount Vernon, the attacks began.  The enemy ruthlessly opposed the process and my efforts, from intense and ongoing guilt trips, to important documents getting lost in the mail, to all sorts of hangups and delays and discouraging hiccups with the application and admissions process at MVNU.  The moment the financial staff was trying to print out my financial statement, the printer suddenly broke.  They got on the phone with me and said, "Wow, it's just one thing after another with you!"
My family and I couldn't help but laugh.  The enemy was showing his hand -- his attacks were so obvious.  We were constantly in prayer, and God kept saying yes to Mount Vernon and yes to February.  The confirmations poured in, even to Christmastime and beyond -- to the time of this writing, in fact!  We knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was in His will.  These setbacks just told me that the enemy really, really doesn't want me to go.

Can I just stop for a second and rejoice?  How cool is this??

But life wasn't a big party.  The attack was heavy, and I was still suffering under ongoing problems.  I sometimes gave into worry, mostly about my boss and the students at our preschool.  She had no one to replace me, and if she could not replace me by my last day of work (January 24th), she would have to close the school.  I wrestled with the temptation to feel guilty about following God and leaving her in a lurch -- it seemed selfish.  However, God reminded me what He'd told me the day I cried in the bathroom at college: I've got this.
If God's really got this, He's got ALL of it.  And I had to obey Him regardless of the cost.  I chose to trust, get out of the boat, and attempt walking on water.  I pressed forward with my plans, prayed for His provision, and trusted Him to provide.

So What Happened?

Guess what?  If God calls you to get out of the boat and walk on the water toward Him, you will be able to walk on the water. 
Just about two weeks ago, God provided my boss with a replacement for me!  He is also answering my prayers to take care of my boss and the program by providing all these snow days so she can get more work done as she transitions her new assistant into the program.  God is continuing to provide for other personal crises I've been dealing with.  He even miraculously intervened in (and completely reversed) an ongoing situation of persecution I'd been experiencing!

But even if none of that had happened, even if none of my prayers had been answered and God hadn't started doing crazy things and showing His hand left and right . . . I don't think it would matter.

Because now I know my God better than I ever have.  I know who I am in Him; I know His heart toward me.  And that is the true victory.

So what do I have to say about God now?  Well, first of all, we serve a God of the eleventh hour!  And we serve a God who is completely sovereign, infinitely wise, and perfect in love.  If He weren't these things, we'd have no reason to trust Him or worship Him!
All my life I'd heard and believed that God loved me, that He was good, and that His plan is always best.  But it has taken an intensely dark season of suffering -- just me and Him -- to turn that head knowledge into heart knowledge.  It took persecution, pain, loneliness, and grief to teach me true surrender, true obedience, true trust, and true Love.

I am 100% confident that God is good.  I believe that the Lord is completely sovereign over my life, that He has been infinitely wise in His dealings with me, and that He loves me perfectly and completely!  I am 100% convinced of it; this time, I've experienced it; I know it.  Regardless of what happens in the future, I know I can entrust the story of my life to my brilliant Master Storyweaver.

I guess the only thing left to say is . . .

To be continued. :)