police and prayer and pursuit

God is so cool. Just have to throw that out there. I have to shout from the rooftops – but since it’s quiet hours I’ll blog instead.

I woke up and the Spirit was all over me and I was so filled with Him all day. How wonderful. There’s nothing better.

Worship was so amazing at church this morning. And smack in the middle of singing about how “He is freedom” and “He is healing” God hit me with some instructions.

They were simple: pray for a police officer today.

Uh, okay God. Sure. That’s not what I was expecting to hear from you this morning, but if you put an officer in my path, I’ll totally do it.

He showed me that it would be at a traffic stop and that was that. I went back to worship. When we sat down, I put a reminder in my phone and told myself that if I hadn’t seen a traffic stop by that evening, I’d go to the police station and at least just walk in and ask to pray for someone. And you know what?

I forgot.

That reminder on my phone didn’t help at all. And I was torn up about it.

Come on Kait! It’s been forever since you’ve gotten one of those “crazy” instructions. How could you blow this? If He can’t trust you with something little like praying for a cop, how can He trust you to do big things for His kingdom?

I was driving across campus after filming in another dorm with a pal in the passenger seat, and just across the field from my dorm… those blazing blue and red lights; an officer in a traffic stop.

I said, “Will you do something crazy with me?”

She said, “Is it legal to walk up to a cop during a stop?”

I said, “I dunno, but God was pretty clear.”

So we walked across that field (and I almost stepped in literally the biggest ant pile I’ve ever seen) with the flashlight on my phone on so he could see us coming, and when he got out to talk to the driver a second time I called, “Officer? Can I talk to you when you’re done?” and he said “Sure.”

He asked how he could help us, and I said, “Um, can I ask you something a little crazy?” His wary expression melted when I said “So this morning in worship…” and explained that I wanted to pray for him.

And Abe, if you read this, I’ll keep praying for your health. And of course your safety. And you were so wonderful and I’m so thankful for you and the rest of the officers you work with that do what you do.

That hug after our prayer wasn’t three people, it was four. Abe, my friend, me, and very tangibly, God.

Psalm 95:7-8

For He is our God,
And we are the people of His pasture,
And the sheep of His hand.

Today, if you will hear His voice:
Do not harden your hearts, as in the rebellion,
As in the day of trial in the wilderness.

Don’t harden your heart if He calls you to do one of those crazy or weird things… You never know what He could be doing.

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tornadoes sirens and lightening strikes

Ok first, that title is somewhat misleading because I will probably only mention the tornado siren that went off tonight twice (including this) in this post but I’ve never heard one outside of a test so I was excited (yes, about potential death and destruction) about it happening.

In case you’re not from the US and stumbled upon this, or just didn’t look outside tonight and were oblivious to the sounds of thunder and lightening  (lightening doesn’t have a sound, Kait…) thunder and rain, this is what the whole middle of America looked like tonight.

Yes, that is just central Texas, but the storm stretched from Nebraska down to CTX so it was straight down the US.

I was sitting in Taco Cabana with the wonderful girl I’m going to live with next year and a plate full of fajitas, and was prepared to knock out some homework. The clouds were this beautiful, expectant, rain-heavy, dark-periwinkle blue color that was so wonderful I almost (almost, because I was starving post-workout) stopped to take a picture of them. But as we got our food, it took less than five minutes for the clouds to go from that beautiful blue shade to such a dark green-grey that it almost looked like midnight at 8 in the evening (which was sunset tonight; so it should’ve been pink, not black). We hightailed it back to campus, and right as we were near my building the tornado siren around the corner started wailing.

I love storms. SO much. I think they’re ridiculously beautiful and they ALWAYS put me in a worshipful mood (because hello look how majestic and powerful and wonderful they are and how much bigger and better  is God than some storm).

So of course, being me, I was like “dur hur, time to write a cheesy post about storms and strong towers and foundations, because duh” …ok and because I felt the Spirit nudging me to look storm verses up. As if I’d really make that connection on my own. I’m an oblivious idiot most of the time so He has to nudge (punch?) me hard when I need do do something.

And I started reading about how He’s our stronghold (in Isaiah but obviously a recurring theme). And I started reading a few psalms about dealing with tempests (because David was a poet so why not use a fun word like tempest). And of course the parable about building on the rock foundation.

I was reading these verses about how God protects us not just from the physical storms around us but from the spiritual tempests we weather too, and I was listening to the thunder’s drum-beat and the rain’s steady patter against my window and watching the lightening paint purple and blue streaks across the dark clouds, and simply marveling… When God told me to call a family member. And I knew her family was dealing with their own storm. And I knew that it was a storm I had faced before, and I knew the the images and emotions in that storm’s winds and waves. Because I’ve faced the waves that are tossed higher than my head by rape. I’ve felt the power of the wind blown by eating disorders that will bowl you over. I’ve seen the burning power of the lightening strike that is the electrifying decision to finally end my life. This storm is a familiar one. The scars that line my arms and body may be from my own hands and a razor blade, but they are really from the feelers that lightening bolt sent down before its big strike.

And all the little pieces of my testimony, that at the time were soul-crushing and all encompassing… I made it through. I would never wish most of my story on anyone else. And I wouldn’t say that I’m glad it happened how it did, but I am thankful that it happened, because now I do have that testimony. Because God can use it for incredible things. Because my past pain means that I can understand others’ pain, and help them find the healing I have. Because my twisted testimony can bring so much glory to God.

My twisted testimony can flash out just as bright and just as hot as those electric streaks that danced through the dark tonight. I get the privilege to dance through the dark every day, and touch those people that have been burned by the same terrible lightening I have. But now, instead of that pain, I can be a conductor for the spark that can shock their hearts into beating again.

But I have to be grounded to be able to conduct that life-lightening. I have to be grounded in the Rock, and have that firm foundation, or else the storm that I’m always in will blow me away and drown me again, and then I won’t be able to breathe myself, much less pass on a spark that I can’t find anymore. I have to build my life on the Rock to be able to paint the dark like I watched that lightening do tonight. I want to shine like that.

when still isn’t still

It’s 14 days before my last final of this semester, and that means that my world is exploding and being crazy. I pulled one all-nighter already this week and haven’t made it to bed before 1am the rest of the nights so far. (I am accepting donations of coffee and white monsters and 5 hour energy shots, if you’re feeling generous.)

I had to find time to just chill out or I’d go insane. We’re told to, Be still, and know that [He is] God.” But life is crazy, and that’s really hard to do sometimes. 

Thankfully, being spiritually still doesn’t always mean being physically still. That would be lovely, but that’s a luxury I don’t have today.

Today is my “rest” day this week, so no cardio. Just a resistance band arm workout on the floor of my dorm room. I had worship music pumping into my ears and surrounding me with peace.

That was my little bubble of calm in the middle of this storm. A simple arm workout. 1 minute before I started I was emailing my roommate old papers to use for reference and listening to her essay and reassuring her that no, it doesn’t sound stupid, and yes, I think she’s going to pass it. And not even 30 seconds after I finished my reps, I was in a flurry of texts with my media group about a project and trying to re-film some scenes in time to not fail a project and in turn probably the class. And as can be expected with text messages, there was some confusion that just added to the frazzled feeling of the conversation.

But I have that bubble to draw from. It wasn’t even that much time, but I was “still” with God and my arms are tired in that happy way and my heart is full of Him and the quiet determination that comes from being filled with His strength, and knowing that I’ll get through these two weeks fine, albeit somewhat lacking in sleep.

So whether you’re a mom or a college kid or a teacher or anything that’s making you run around like a chicken with your head cut off like I am, remember to be still with God, whether you’re actually still or not. Blast some Hillsong while you chop veggies. Dance to Planetshakers while you vacuum your living room. Sing along with Ascend the Hill or All Sons and Daughters while you take a shower. But be still in your heart and let God’s presence wash over you and soak into you. That’s all that matters.

Be still, and stay sane.

suicide, depression, and christianity

Yesterday (4/13/15) was two years since one of my high school best friends died. She committed suicide.

I’m not going to blog about whether people who kill themselves go to hell or not or if Christ’s blood covers that sin as well. That’s for people way more theologically advanced than me, and even then – who knows? That’s still up to God.

What I am going to talk about is depression. Because that’s something that I’ve dealt with for as long as I can recall. I can remember being in fourth or fifth grade and thinking, “I’m a kid… shouldn’t I be happy? Why am I sad all the time?” I can show you the thin white lines that lace my forearms and biceps and wrists and hips and stomach and the darker purple-silver ones on my thighs where normal cuts didn’t get deep enough.

And what I am going to talk about is suicide, because the first time I tried to kill myself was in sixth grade. Little 11 year old me was going to fall on a butcher knife in the middle of the kitchen because she was so depressed. (what I would give to have 5 minutes with her or just hug her…) And that was only the first time I tried.

I know these personally. These demons have been around me my whole life. Sometimes I sarcastically call them my friends, but I know they’re my enemies. They are from the Enemy. His job is to steal, kill and destroy. That is exactly what depression does. It steals your joy; it kills your hope; it destroys your desire for life at all.

Depression tells you that you are alone. That no one loves you, that no one will understand what you’re going through, that no one cares. It isolates you from your friends and family and everything that you were once interested in.

Not only do 1 in 10 American adults face depression at some point, the number of people diagnosed with depression goes up by 20 percent every year. (source) Whether you think that’s because of our increasing techno-social dependence, or something to do with genetically modified foods, or some other theory that’s floating around society: the facts are still the facts, and depression is something that you or some you love will face in their lifetime.

Depression isn’t anything new either. It’s been around since the Bible times.

Jeremiah 20:14-18 says,
14 Cursed be the day
    on which I was born!
The day when my mother bore me,
    let it not be blessed!
15 Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father,
“A son is born to you,”
    making him very glad.
16 Let that man be like the cities
    that the Lord overthrew without pity;
let him hear a cry in the morning
    and an alarm at noon,
17 because he did not kill me in the womb;
    so my mother would have been my grave,
    and her womb forever great.
18 Why did I come out from the womb
    to see toil and sorrow,
    and spend my days in shame?

Job 7:15-16 says
15 I would choose strangling
    and death rather than my bones.
16 I loathe my life; I would not live forever.
    Leave me alone, for my days are a breath.

The book of Psalms is full of different examples of King David, the “man after God’s own heart,” crying out in deep depression and sadness.

Psalm 32:3-4 says
For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away
    through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
    my strength was dried up[a] as by the heat of summer.

Psalm 102:4-7 says
My heart is struck down like grass and has withered;
    I forget to eat my bread.
Because of my loud groaning
    my bones cling to my flesh.
I am like a desert owl of the wilderness,
    like an owl of the waste places;
I lie awake;
    I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.

Psalm 6:6 says
I am weary with my moaning;
    every night I flood my bed with tears;
    I drench my couch with my weeping.

But Psalm 42:5 shows us a slightly different story:
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
    and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
    my salvation.

David tells his heart: hope in God! He doesn’t say “praise him right now” or “just be happy” or something silly like that. He acknowledges that he can’t necessarily find joy right now. But he does hold on to the future, and hold on to the knowledge that everything won’t stay dark forever. Pain lasts for the night, but joy IS coming in the morning!

I don’t have any magic words for how I got past my depression. Truth is, I didn’t. Those “friends” will likely be around for the rest of my life, because they’re caused by a hereditary chemical imbalance in my brain. The difference is that I am familiar with ol’ Depression’s lies now. I know how to combat them. I know the verses to read, the things to focus on in prayer. Not that depression doesn’t grow and evolve with me as I learn, but I grow and learn with it, and the goal is to grow with God faster than my “friends” do.

In a strange way, it’s comforting to look down at my arms or legs and see those silver-white lines. They fade more and more as the years separate me from that 12 year old with a broken mirror, desperate for something, and from the 14 year old who was given a razor blade that allowed her the ability to quickly and easily slice away at her arms upwards of 50 times in a night. Those are brutal memories to think and talk about, but they are a huge part of my testimony, and I love seeing my scars, and seeing how God has used them to open the door to countless broken people who see that I can understand them. I will be sad when my little lines are completely invisible to the naked eye, because they represent the daily battle I have to do on the soul-level.

So if you are dealing with some “friends” of your own – all I can say is just hold on. There is always hope. There is a dawn coming for your night. No, life won’t always be sunshine and roses. In fact, it may stay looking like a gloomy, foggy mess forever. BUT, you wouldn’t even be able to see that fog if you hadn’t found some sort of light to see with. Fog can be so beautiful and magical.

It’s a fight. You don’t have to win every battle! You are allowed to take a day off from life. You are allowed to stay in bed all day if the fight to just even live gets too exhausting. Just make sure you get up that next day after your little break. Just keep fighting, and one day you’ll find someone to fight with you, and maybe multiple someones to help. And it will slowly get easier and easier. Hope.

My hope for anyone reading this jumble of emotions and thoughts is the same as Romans 15:13 – May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

_________________________________

If you or someone you know is thinking about hurting themselves in some way, here are a few resources.

imalive.org
suicidepreventionlifeline.org
1-800-273-TALK
afsp.org

even if he does not

Don’t worry, I’ll be back to my usual black and white pictures soon. But this little piece of Daniel 3:18 that I painted tonight looked better in color.

Daniel 3:17-18 – “If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if He does not, we want you to know, your majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

Even if He does not… we will be faithful.

Even if He does not…

  • make following my calling simple
  • make paying for SAGU easy
  • heal my father’s heart toward my mother
  • choose to heal my depression
  • make all the steps of my path clear
  • make it clear how to escape my sin habits
  • give me a rainy season
  • show me the way out of the desert

HE IS STILL GOOD.

Even if He never does another thing that makes sense to me or makes my life any “better” by my standards, He is still GOOD. He works ALL things for the good of those who love Him. My furnaces, whether I am delivered smoke-free or killed, will glorify Him.

He can deliver me from my battles and my personal furnaces. I believe that with all of my heart. He is bigger and better and stronger than anything I will ever face. He can deliver me. But even if He does not, I still will follow, and I still will praise Him.