One of my favorite things to do is to reflect on how God has moved. To recognize the monumental days and the significant moments. There's something about doing this that brings joy to my soul. I firmly believe my happiness is greatest when I spend time giving credit where credit is due. We were created for His glory, and when we openly confess his sovereignty, he is glorified. In so doing, we fulfill the very purpose for which we breathe, move, live. He is glad. He blesses us. My heart is glad.
To reference something I wrote in a previous blog, my feet are moving. And in the right direction.
I'm learning when to close doors. I'm learning to wait for God to open them, rather than forcing my way through. Case in point: Interview with TWLOHA. We were originally supposed to interview Jamie, the founder. You have no idea how stressed out I was about this. On the day of, I called Michael, who told me Jamie's flight had been canceled and we wouldn't be able to interview him. We decided to go anyway and interview Michael instead. I'm sure Jamie is wonderful. I'm sure a conversation with him would have been outstanding. But God orchestrated the night a little differently than what we expected. As odd as it sounds, I'm glad we interviewed Michael instead of Jamie.
I mentioned a few months ago that I was interested in interning with TWLOHA. The desire faded, as many of my ideas do, but it's back. There's absolutely no feasible way that I can see how any of this happened apart from the hand of God. Bottom line. Whether or not the reasoning for all of this will extend further than the video we did for our CCM project, I have yet to discover. I'm faithfully praying that this is just the beginning.
I have a foot in the door, and that's all I can ask for.
I'm taking risks. I'm loving boldly. I'm honestly and openly examining my heart. I struggle with pushing people away. As much as I desire closeness, connectedness, and community, I also fear rejection, pain, disappointment, and let-downs. (I wish I could have alliterated that entire sentence. Can alliterated be used as a verb?) I fear vulnerability, I fear my inadequacy will be found out. I'm a perfectionist; I fear you will discover I'm not perfect at all. Even though I know you already know it. The front I present is one of intimidation, sarcasm, and a general attitude that says, "I will not put up with your bullshit."
I am strong. I am resilient. And no, I won't put up with your bullshit. Please take it somewhere else.
But underneath that exterior is compassion, understanding, insecurity, honesty, growth, a longing for community, a tender heart. And I'm really, really tired of hiding this part of me for fear of pain. Because I've experienced pain. And I'm resilient. I have survived, and I'm stronger now than ever before. The strength and grace of Christ will carry me through.
His grace carries me through wide-open doors to beautiful experiences that affect me in ways I could never sufficiently describe.
And today, I have a foot in the door, and that's all I can ask for.