Ragamuffin Stories

I've been anxious, I can’t sleep Worthless worries, burden me I hunt the sun, chase the wind Till my tired spirit spins into the ground

When I try to take control Fear and terror grip my soul I need joy, I need peace I need rest I need relief I look to you, and you teach me to

Seek your kingdom Seek your righteousness

See the ravens, they can’t farm They don’t have silos, trucks or barns But our God sees their needs And he loves them and he feeds them everyday

See the lilies, how they grow They don’t work or buy their clothes But if God, by his grace, clothes the grass with great array Then how much more, is there in store, when I

Seek your kingdom Seek your righteousness I will seek your kingdom Seek your righteousness

I'm not sure where I am right now. My heart is a little overwhelmed/confused. Which, as you probably know, is discouraging. I see this confusion keeping me from being close to my Great Friend as the ashes that we're recognizing today.

For me, the ashes are a recognition that I'm dirty. That I'm beaten, bruised, and bedraggled. Today is a calm Wednesday. A different Wednesday, but it's calm. Reflective. A little painful. I'm reminded of the shit in my life that needs changed. I'm discouraged by the things I should be giving up for 40 days, but not forever, just 40 days. I digress.

It would be devastating if Lent ended with that ash; if it ended today. Thankfully it doesn't. Only one thing ends this dust, this devastation and death that it seems I'm stuck in: the hope, no the certainty that there is Life; that the tiny river running in the desert isn't just a tiny river, it leads to an abundance of water where no thirst goes un-quenched. So rejoice in that tiny river when you get to it.

The one thing that ends the darkness, cleans your dirt, and silences death is a gust of wind that the Resurrection provides to blow away the ashes. 

I seem to live in valleys. Where death is always waiting for me to come home.

I am a wandering soul, no place to ever call my own, nowhere to lay my head.

But Oh, You have found me. You took my heart and breathed in life. Oh, You've always known me. You took my darkest days and brought me light I've come to lay at Your feet, find comfort in Your shadow, and here I find rest. But Oh, You have found me. You took my heart and breathed in life. Oh, You've always known me. You took my darkest days and brought me light We join with heaven's chorus, with those who've gone before us. They're singing Death has lost its way!

I grew up in a Baptist church. Hymnals were our thing. One of the hymns in those books was "What A Friend We Have In Jesus". I like it. Hymns are so nostalgic for me because I've had this love affair with music for my whole life.

As much as I love that hymn and believe it's true always. He's seriously the ultimate picture of what a friend is. Just one of the many titles He has perfected.

But goodness. Sometimes I don't feel His friendship. Which is my fault. There's some barrier there, I just can't seem to break through it.

I was born with this desire to run. To be a thief, to break things, to lie. Being a criminal on the run is thrilling. Especially when I know that I will never be locked up.

Constantly running away is a curse. It is a terribly life-infecting habit. And it's the similar to actually running: sometimes I'll stop for a breather and get filled up, but once I get enough rest, I'll take off again.

I'm running on this race track that starts near my Father and ends near Him, too. Picture that. When you start running, you go further and further away from Him. But, the same place where you get furthest away from Him, is the same place that marks your journey back towards him.

I'm a thief, a murderer, a criminal, a sinner on the run. My crimes deserve punishment, jail time, death, but none of those things will ever happen because of one thing and one thing only: The grace of God when He sent His son to die.

*Disclaimer: The grace of God is not a free-ride for us to live recklessly, but rather a free-gift that offers redemption for the prodigal son within each of us.*

The hard part for me is figuring out how to run with Him rather than away from Him. I wish it were easy and that I had all the answers, but it just takes this incredible trust in Him that needs to be fed to my mind each day. It's a simple concept, but a difficult practice.

Something I've been thinking about a lot lately is the faithfulness that Christ has at welcoming me back whenever I run away for a while. But he doesn't just kind of wait at the door for me and wonder how long it will take me to get home, He meets me on the road home. The father of the two sons in Luke 15 really displays this amazing picture of this:

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

He ran to his son. Not only is the Father always faithful to welcome me home, but He is excited enough to run to me.

To me, prodigal behavior is something that can re-occur. Mainly because I know I've been guilty of it. But I believe that the son in this story could repeat his action over and over and his Father would run out to meet him each time.

The Father doesn't stop there. When the older son gets angry by the grace his Father gives his selfish little brother he refuses to go into the party being thrown.

The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him.

He went to his son. Then continues on to tell him, "you are always with me, everything I have is yours." His eldest son, who maybe didn't leave physically, but separated himself through his pride needs a Father to welcome him home just as much as the son that actually ran away.

Such a stubborn beast Is best away from the flock You've enough pride for all of us As you wander your islands Unborn and unloved You set fire to the bridges That you were carried across

But those letters They're all strewn across your bedroom floor Such beautiful words But you just can't remember who they're for By your window there's a picture filled with strangers Always looking down on you Such a frightened fawn Is best far from the road No you wouldn't want to expose your flesh to your bones But you can't help but notice

Each day I take another step into the so-called "real world" and each day I'm overwhelmed by the presence of bitterness in the lives of people around me. I even find myself taking a piece of that bitterness for myself. Luckily, I don't feel like bitterness has planted itself in my life, but it definitely keeps trying to.

I've realized how hard it is to bring joy into people's lives who want only to complain about their boss or their pay. I'm guilty of those things, too, though. My best attempt at bringing joy is not trying to relate and agree with other people's bitterness. Why would I ever think just because it's easier to complain with someone, that somehow that is better than joy. Why wouldn't I just invite them into the joy I know?

It's a rainy season in the garden that is my life. I love the rain, it's symbolism and it's purpose. It breaks down the soil of my heart and my veins soak it up. Sometimes it feels like all rain does is tear us apart and leave us washed up, wet, and muddy. These lyrics suggest otherwise:

oh the sun, it does not cause us to grow

it is the rain that will strengthen your soul

it will make you whole

God gives us the rain for endurance. His rain isn't meant to tear us apart and if it washes us away, He is faithful to replant us in a the new garden he has for us. His rain is meant to strengthen our souls and to prepare us for a great harvest. My heart is ready and expectant for fruit to start producing from the season of rain. 

The season of rain will bring labor pain 

But its end will be the most wonderful 

My heart is sore from searching for Him and continually coming up short. It seems like no matter how I go about seeking Him I keep hitting dead ends, and just when I think I'm getting closer to Him, the "no outlet" sign appears again. This makes life in general pretty difficult. Feeling like a mouse trapped in a maze with no end is discouraging. 

Aspects of my life suddenly have layers of complication and when my heart gets heavy I try to find His house to take shelter and yet again am discouraged by the sight of a dead end. All I want is to sit at His table, to eat the feast He has prepared and to drink from His cup. All I want is to find satisfaction in Him alone, but no matter how much I want that, for some reason I can't let go of things and let Him take care of me.

I've got all these things in my hands trying to reach out and give to Him. Am I not reaching far enough? Do I need to throw them? I'm really just confused. I go back and forth between trusting that He'll take them in His timing and hurting immensely because He hasn't already taken them. 

There's nothing I want more than His presence and rest in His arms. But I don't find Him in the seeking. I don't find Him in the doubt. 

It's difficult to be honest with myself about this, but I know He'll show me a path that doesn't end.

BUT

He's always near. He never leaves my side, I just close my eyes sometimes. I find it easier to accept sadness than to rejoice in gladness. 

I'm slowly but surely opening my eyes to what He truly has for me in this season. Those "no outlet" signs are deceiving because they make me think there isn't anywhere to go, but really He's just waiting at the end of it ready to let me eat at His table, rejoice with a feast, and open up the next part of the road.

As this happens, I find that I'm not in a maze without an end, I'm not even coming to dead ends, I'm just making stops to enjoy a home-cooked meal and to rest in a quiet room before He sends me on down the next road.

I did it. I finished college. Now, off to make money, acquire more responsibility, more power, get in shape, and take control of my own destiny. All I needed was that degree and now I can accomplish all I’ve ever wanted.

Sadly, even if this is an extreme example, this is kind of what I think like a lot of the time. I have convinced myself that in my many years (just 22) of living, I have come to this great understanding of life and how it should unfold and how I can make it better just by trying harder.

But what if I have been moving in the wrong direction this whole time? What if I’ve spent all this time making myself stronger in so many ways and it’s not what God wants for me at all? I haven’t necessarily been doing the wrong things, making the wrong friendships, or seeking the wrong jobs, but I have been trying to please the wrong person; myself.

In 2 Corinthians, Paul is struggling with a “thorn in his side” and pleading for Christ to rid him of it. He believes that it is making him insufficient and not as strong as he should be. The Lord responds:

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. 

The realization that the weaker I make myself the more power Christ is able to have in my life is so amazing to me. It makes perfect sense, too. The more areas that I allow Him to have complete control over, the more opportunities, or rather the more my eyes will be opened to His beauty. Paul responds in such a humble way:

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.

He could have simply said, “Okay, Lord, I’ll try to become weaker.” But instead he wants to take pride in his weaknesses. He desires the power of Christ rather than the power of Paul. Essentially he says to the Lord,

Bring on more thorns. Give me more weakness. Give me more criticism from my friends. Allow me to go through more hard times. Allow me to deal with difficult deaths of those close to me. Allow me to suffer from heartbreak. I am content in whatever You bring to me, Lord, because I know that Your power will rest on me. I have faith in Your strength and in Your plans.

The Psalmist describes a beautiful picture of this relentless faith in the Lord in Chapter 42. In 2012 a song was written by The Sing Team with Psalm 42 as the inspiration:

Why are you downcast, oh my soul? Why so disturbed within me? I can remember when You showed Your face to me.

As a deer pants for water, so my soul thirsts for You. And when I survey Your splendor, You so faithfully renew. Like a bed of rest, for my fainting flesh. 

I am satisfied in You.

Let my sighs give way to songs that sing about Your faithfulness. Let my pain reveal Your glory as my only real rest. Let my losses show me all I truly have is You. ‘Cause all I truly have is You!

Why am I down? Why so disturbed? I am satisfied in You.

When we make ourselves weak and the Lord strong we are able to ask ourselves “Why am I down? Why so disturbed?” And we are able to see the satisfaction that comes from the Lord when we give Him control.

My favorite part of that song is in the bridge. Essentially what is written is:

My Pain = Rest in His glory

My Loss = Full dependence on Him

All I truly have is Him.

It helps me to write down my prayers and to constantly write “make me weaker, Lord.” My journal is filled with ramblings and arguments with the Lord. But regardless of how I may have felt when my soul was downcast, I find myself realizing that He is truly all I need.

Even when He has something for us, He also has His own timing. I’ve been hurting because of such heavy love but the hurt is of my own creation. The hurt is caused by me trying to be strong. Becoming weak is something I’m still working on and it requires that I have faith in His plans. Becoming weak will ultimately bring true peace in Christ to my life.

Brennan Manning writes this in his book The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus:

The shipwrecked don’t seek peace because they aren’t disturbed by the lack of it. By that I mean the subjective feeling of peace. Circumstances can play havoc with our emotions. The day can be stormy or fair and our feelings will fluctuate accordingly, but if we are in Christ Jesus, we are in peace and therefore unflustered even when we feel no peace…When we accept the truth of ourselves—shipwrecked and saved—our lives are henceforth anchored in the Rock who is Christ, not in the shifting sands of our fickle feelings…Frustration, irritation, fatigue and so forth may temporarily unsettle us, but they cannot rob us of living in the peace of Christ Jesus…We are made for Christ, and nothing less will ever satisfy us.

Nothing less will ever satisfy me!

I have to quit searching for unconditional love when I already have it. I have to to quit pursuing strength thinking that it will be enough. I have to quit thinking that pain and loss are bad when really they just allow Christ to be powerful in my life. I have to quit building my life on the shifting sands of my dramatic feelings.

Most importantly, I can’t quit these things (and more) without the presence of the Lord in my life. My life should sing these lines

I lean not on my own understanding, my life is in the hands of the Maker of Heaven.

I give it all to You, God, trusting that You’ll make something beautiful out of me.

I will climb this mountain with my hands wide open.

The past 7-8 months have been a season of rain. Some people think of rainy seasons as gloomy and dark. While these months may have been both of those things, I've never thought of rain that way. I've always thought how amazing it is what rain can mean to a seed even when there's no plant yet. I've learned to be content with rain and tried to understand that the harvest is coming.

But that's just it, I've just learned to be content. I've become restless of searching for Him because the search is a lazy and distracted one. God's not a matador trying to draw me in only to have me realize there's nothing behind that red cape. It's not Him that's fooling me, it's my empty attempts at being the "person I want to be." 

The prideful "realizations" that I have of things that will be good for me or friendships that will grow my heart are nothing more than my own eager heart trying to create the plan rather than let His timing be enough.

I seem to have forgotten that He is who He says He is. He is a good as He says He is. I've intellectualized ways to find Him other than total surrender. I've created distractions that are painted red that I believe lead to Him, and when I finally reach them, the cape is pulled again. 

All He wants is for me to surrender. All He wants is for me to quit trying on my own and to give it over to Him. All He wants is for me to wholeheartedly seek Him. It's when I do these that I'll find Him.

My hope is that I'd accept these words:

Oh I know I’m gonna rise again Set my sights on where I'm going And my goodbyes to where I've been Oh I know I’m gonna rise again Singing farewell king of the broken So long my friend

I'm not lost, I just don't know where to go. But I know that if I can commit to Him then He will show me. 

A dear friend wrote this last week. It resonates in my heart:

For by the blood of the Son, I have overcome the grave.

The week before I left for Uganda I was in Steamboat, Colorado. During a time of worship, a sweet friend and powerful woman of God prayed over me, and speaking over me she said “You will be a repairer of broken things”. There have been a few times in my life where I have been spoken over. The prayers that I have heard I have stored away in my heart. I hear them, and rest in awe of them.

I was thinking though that maybe I haven’t chosen to live in these things. Do I actually walk in the new birth the Lord has for me? Essentially, what it comes down to is do I truly believe that the Lord can make something beautiful out of me? Why do I hear these names and words and pass them off so easily? I don’t think I believe them. Why do I continue to be quiet when I have something that needs to be said? Because I don’t think I believe my words are valuable to those around me. I don’t believe that the Lord can make something beautiful out of me.

I see the pride, I see the selfishness, I see the deep heart brokenness and how can that be?

But the fact of the matter is that my focus has come off of who the Healer, Redeemer, Savior is. I am not in myself a “repairer of broken things”, but my Father is. His Power ismade perfect in my weakness. By choosing not to believe that the Lord can make something beautiful out of me, I am not fully believing in the Power of the Lord.

I am not too far gone.

I am not too dirty.

I am not too young to have the Lord make me new.

To believe so is to somehow lessen His Power. It is not humility, but another form of pride, believing my life to be beyond the hands of my Father.

Oh what lies the enemy weaves, what distortion He does to Truth! What the enemy does is distorts the Christian life until abundant life is diluted in our lives. By not truly walking in what the Lord is doing in me, I’m really losing my experience of Him. Sure my Salvation is secure, and I can know Him to an extent. Sure His Love for me isn’t any less if I stay where I’m at. But my experience of Him is diluted, muddled, skewed. I won’t fully experience how great, how far, how wide, how deep, how high his love for me is if I’m content to live in a state of fear. And fear is what it comes down to, isn’t it? I’m afraid to believe that He may use me in case He doesn’t actually do it. That’s self preservation.

But isn’t that what faith combats? To know without hesitation that He indeed can make something beautiful out of me. Not because of anything I do or say. Not because I’m going to do so much for the Kingdom. Not because of anything that the Lord uses me to do.

But because by the blood of the Son, I have overcome.

The chains have been broken and my Father is telling me to get up and walk. I don’t want to miss what He may have me do for His glory because I didn’t believe that He could make things new.

I give it all to you God, trusting that you’ll make something beautiful out of me.

That is the abandonment of self preservation. Walking in the new birth is not because of my works, my abilities, my efforts just as standing at the gate of Heaven won’t be. It’s by the blood of the Son, I have overcome. 1 Corinthians 2 speaks of how I have the mind of Christ and the Spirit within me. I am not in shackles, but a new Creation. So I abandon the doubts, I abandon the fear, and I get up and walk in His Truth for His Glory, for my experience of Him.

I believe that He transforms for His Glory and my experience of Him. And I do it not with my eyes shut, but with joy. It may feel like I’m giving up a lot as I step out, abandoning the desire to preserve of myself, but I’m gaining more than I could ever give up. I abandon all, with joy, because I have found something, someone worth losing all else for, even the walls of protection around myself.

And that is beautiful indeed.

(http://twollenberg.wordpress.com)

Nothing within me allows me to overcome sin, to overcome heartbreak, to overcome stress.Time is necessary in all those things, but more importantly, Jesus is NECESSARY. Not just available at my convenience, but NECESSARY.

I ignore that truth every day. Every. Single. Day. 

One year after probably the most devastating hurts I've experienced, and I need Him just the same as I have since the day I was born. There is a void within me that I've tried filling with plenty of different things. 

But wait:

By the blood of a Son, I have overcome the grave!

Returning from Uganda this summer, I had reconstructed this thing we call love that is so mistreated and overused. I felt like I knew how to love Him most of all and that really flooded the other areas of my life. My day-to-day life was much happier and I could feel joy pouring out of me. I've reached this point where it's really easy, again, to say the word love, but not easy to actually do it. It's hard to love with the sincerity of Salim (click here). The love I offer is starting to become shallow and empty again. It's difficult to fall in love again, to love my friends, and worst of all, to love the Lord. 

Part of the reason I can't fall in love is that I won't let myself; the other part is that I don't know how right now. I'm terrified. I'm paranoid of being broken again and having to resuscitate my mauled heart. I thought I was crazy for sometimes having heartbreak, because that's what people told me. "You just need to get over it and move on," "You have to forgive her," "Stop dwelling on the past." Well, I have forgiven. I have tried to move on. Thank goodness for the assurance of my dad who is one of the few encouragers even when he's an ocean away. He wrote:

I wish I could assure you that pain you are feeling would go away, but it's likely to ebb and flow for a long time. You will think that all is well and you have forgiven her and then something will happen that triggers a flood of negative emotions. Through it all, I encourage you to continue to allow the Holy Spirit to bring you comfort and encouragement. That's His job.

Although fear is - in my mind - a logical excuse for not falling in love, that doesn't explain why I'm not truly and fully loving my friends. Even my closest friends whom I treat with such joy, aren't getting my full love. I have more to offer, but for some reason I'm not. I've got my defenses up again and am not letting anyone in. I don't know why that is yet. My mind wants so badly to be sincere in everything I do, but my actions don't reflect that at all. My conversations are shallow, I'm not engaged in even the simplest things like board games. I'm just gone in another world where I don't have to put any effort into relationships. I'm kind of sick of putting effort into them I think mostly because in the past that effort has been wasted. Even though they taught me things, I don't want to just learn from bad friendships or relationships, I want to have good ones! My pride stands in the way of that because I'm tired of putting effort in. 

But really, all of this comes down to me not knowing how to love and trust the Lord. I'm scared to put my trust in Him. I know that should be a fundamental action for a Christian, but it's ridiculous to fake it just so the others don't judge and lecture you on how and why to trust in the Lord. There's all of these things He promises that I know He'll do, but I've convinced myself that knowing exactly what will happen is better than trusting Him, so I just do everything myself. He will protect me; but I won't let Him. He will secure my heart; but I'm too fragile to trust Him. He will comfort me in my sorrow; but I'm too proud to seek help.

These lyrics ring in my ear:

hello my old heart  how have you been?  how is it, being locked away?  well don't you worry  in there, you're safe  and it's true, you'll never beat  but you'll never break 

Why would I rather have a dead heart than a broken heart? I have a Healer. He has a shoulder just for me. He has hands to hold my heart together. I just need to go run to Him.

Donald Miller writes in his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years:

The most often repeated commandment in the Bible is "Do not fear." It's in there over two hundred times. That means a couple of things, if you think about it. It means we are going to be afraid, and it means we shouldn't let fear boss us around. Before I realized we were supposed to fight fear, I thought of fear as a subtle suggestion in our subconscious.designed to keep us safe, or more important, keep us from getting humiliated. And I guess it serves that purpose. But fear isn't only a guide to keep us safe; it's also a manipulative emotion that can trick us into living a boring life.

So yes, I'm scared. I want to fall in love again. I want to love my friends with all sincerity and I want to trust in the Lord, but I'm scared. It's time to listen to His command and stop fearing, though. It's time to trust in Job's words that although He does wound and He does shatter, He also binds up and His hands heal.

I feel as if my bones are the ones taking up the valley Ezekiel walked through. As if there is no hope for them to live except through the Lord intervening. I need real breath in my lungs, I need a real beat in my heart, I need to really live. "A warm body don't mean I'm alive." I need more than just a warm body, I need a savior working inside me.

I think I've been saying it wrong. I don't need more of the Lord, because He's given it all, I need to experience more of the Lord. It's time to be washed clean. It's time to wash my clothes, shave my head, and trust that God will do what He says here:

I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all you idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. You shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers, and you shall be my people, and I will be your God. And I will deliver you from all your uncleannesses. And I will summon the grain and make it abundant and lay no famine upon you. I will make the fruit of the tree and increase of the field abundant, that you may never again suffer the disgrace of famine among the nations. Then you will remember your evil ways, and you deeds that were not good , and you will loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abominations. It is not for your sake that I will act, declares the Lord God; let that be known to you. Be ashamed and confounded for your ways, O house of Israel.

- Ezekiel 36:24-32

The desire isn't there still. It's like I'm just waiting to be swept off my feet because I'm too lazy to get up. I know Who to run to still, I know what He promises, and I know that He's waiting for me, but I can't seem to get that concept from my head to my heart.

Hallelujah, I'm a prodigal son. Hallelujah, I'm out on the run.

Hallelujah, I'm just like you, we got a Father and a love we can run home to.

I need to run home. 

Bury it, before it buries me, Lord.