blessed be your name

This morning I woke up with Matt Redman's worship song, Blessed Be Your Name, stuck in my head. I don't get songs stuck in my head very often but when I do, I tend to have them in my head ALL. DAY. LONG.

Sure enough, I sang it in the shower this morning. I hummed it while I brushed my teeth. I listened to it on my iPod on the bus. I hummed it at my desk all morning long while I typed up invoices. And then, just for kicks, I googled the lyrics to read them and actually took the time to reflect on each line.

Blessed be Your name, in the land that is plentiful

where your streams of abundance flow .. blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name, when I'm found in the desert place

Though I walk through the wilderness .. blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name, when the sun's shining down on me ...

Blessed be Your name, on the road marked with suffering ...

You give and take away, my heart will choose to say blessed be Your name

I've always loved this song but now I think I love it even more. To worship and love God in good times & in bad ... to honor and praise Him whether you are happy or sad ... to have an outrageous faith. This is my goal in life.

I am more than a job title ...

Confession - one of the questions I hate the most is "so, what do you do?"

I hate it because people tend to ask this question in the first 3 minutes of meeting someone new, as though a job title will immediately sum up all that this person is and all that he or she is about. I hate it because it's just downright nosy ... I mean, when you actually sit back and think about it, is it really anybody's business what you do for work? But, most of all, I hate it because it makes me feel inadequate. Because I can't say something impressive like "I'm a lawyer" or "I'm a doctor" or "I'm a crazy rocket scientist plotting ways to take over the world." I'm just an administrative assistant and even though I love my job & know that this is exactly what God has called me to do for the next little while ... it often just doesn't feel like enough. When they ask me what my career plans are and I explain that I hope to keep this job until I get married and have children, the look I often get makes me feel like that's not enough either.

I'll just be straight up honest .. this is totally a pride issue. The fact that I cringe inside every time someone asks me what I do for a living has *nothing* to do with my actual job and *everything* to do with my own insecurity and my selfish desire to impress. Lately, God has been showing me that if my goal is to impress people with my career or my job title or my income bracket, then I've missed the point. My ultimate goal in life should be to point people toward Christ so that HE (not me!) can impress them. After all, he's the only one who can truly impress. The rest of us always fall short.

I wish I could say that I woke up this morning and suddenly felt 100% proud of being "just" an administrative assistant ... that any insecurity I was struggling with in this area just vanished overnight. We all know it's not that easy. In a society that encourages you to do whatever it takes to move up the corporate ladder as quickly as you can, it's not easy to be at peace with a position that many of your peers unconsciously consider to be insignificant, unimportant. So, no .. I didn't wake up this morning to find that my longing to impress and be respected had disappeared ... but I did wake up with a new perspective.

One day, I will trade my emails and phone calls and invoices for diapers and teddy-bears and play dates at the park. But, until then, every time I step into my office, I want to remind myself that I am exactly where God wants me doing exactly what He has called me to do. He calls some to be CEO's and others to be administrative assistants and we are all equal in His eyes. My job description might not impress people at a dinner party, but {hopefully} my obedience to God makes Him happy. And, really, at the end of the day it's not so much about what you do but why you do it and who you are doing it for.

"In all the work you are doing, work the best you can. Work as if you were doing it for the Lord, not for people." Colossians 3:23

I'm gonna break your heart.

My main goal in life is to live as an authentic Christian woman ... to be the kind of person who loves Jesus, who lives for Jesus and who is honest and open about her struggles as she strives to glorify Jesus in all she does. If I give off the impression that I am anywhere near perfect, or that my life is perfect or that living a grace-filled life comes easily to me, then I have failed miserably at my goal.

I am not perfect. Far from it.

I get grumpy and irritable. I can be selfish and impatient. I tend to blame other people for the messes in my life. I struggle with pride. I struggle with insecurity. I struggle with not feeling like I am good enough and being critical of others to make myself feel better. People tease me about being a princess and, unfortunately, I'm not always the cheerful Disney kind of princess ... sometimes, I'm the bossy, spoiled kind of princess who just wants her own way. Sometimes I even hurt the people I love most. Perfection? Far, far from it.

Take Friday evening as an example.

It was Good Friday, a day to remember Jesus' crucifixion and sacrifice on the cross. I was at a worship service. If there was ever a time to be focused on the idea of GRACE it was then and there. Instead, I was annoyed with someone because they hadn't responded to one of my text messages. I had sent this message and eagerly awaited a reply ... and none came. I didn't stop to consider that this person was totally swamped with work. Didn't stop to think that they were likely counting down the minutes 'til they could see me in person to tell me all about their stressful week. Didn't pause to consider that maybe the whole text messaging thing really isn't their thing at all. Didn't take a moment to remind myself that a silly text message (or, in this case, a lack thereof) does not define how much a person cares about you or how much they value you.

I was annoyed that my message had gone unanswered. I felt ignored and even a little rejected. My insecurities began to swell up inside me ... "why didn't they bother to reply? what did I do wrong? why don't they like me?" ... So, when I saw this person that night, I was mean to them. Instead of calmly telling them that I was disappointed that they hadn't bothered to reply and asking why, I lashed out. Like an immature twelve year-old, I gave this person the silent treatment. Totally ignored them, brushed them off, didn't even make eye contact. Wow. Class act, Stephanie Joanna.

Oh sure, I felt empowered at the time. I felt like I was in control, like I was giving them a taste of their own medicine, like they deserved it ... but you know what? When I crawled into bed that night, I just felt like a big ugly mess of sin. Because dishonoring a fellow believer like that is wrong. Because treating anyone with impatience and intentionally trying to make people feel crappy is wrong. Because sin ALWAYS leaves a nasty after-taste.

So this Easter weekend has been one of repentance - realizing that I mess up quite a bit, and rejoicing in the fact that I have a Savior who is quick to forgive and quick to pour out His love.

And that, my friends, is the honest truth. I am not perfect. If you know me in person, then I feel I should just let you know that I will probably let you down. And all I can do is ask for forgiveness and pray that you too will love me through it.

"Just so you know, I'm gonna break your heart. Just so you know, I'm gonna make a mess. I've got things unsaid inside my head that I wish you knew that I can't confess ... like I'm gonna break your heart."

let a righteous man strike me

I am a firm believer in God as Heavenly Father - I believe He is just as much "Daddy" to us as He is Savior and King and Creator. And, just as parents discipline their children, I know Heavenly Father disciplines us, too. "So then know in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you". - Deuteronomy 8:5

I don't mean that He punishes us. Though some Christians will disagree with my position on this, I don't believe that diseases, natural disasters, personal tragedies, etc are inflicted on human beings as some kind of holy punishment for sins. When Jesus said "it is finished" on the cross, I take him at his word. I don't believe God punishes his children but I also don't believe He has any trouble letting us know when He's not pleased and pointing out areas in our lives where we could use some serious improvement.

For me, this Godly discipline tends to happen in the form of a rebuke - when someone who knows me well speaks truth into my life and tells it to me "like it is". Someone I love and respect will point out an area in my life or an aspect of my character that just isn't Christ-like and, deep down, I know God is speaking through them. This happened just the other day. In an email to me, a friend pointed out that something I claimed to be doing "the Christian way" was really no different than the secular way. She didn't use those exact words and she was really gentle, but that was essentially the bottom line. She saw me acting in a way that wasn't right, and she called me out on it.

My first reaction was to try and justify the situation to myself. You know, the kind of self-lecture that begins with the infamous "yeah, BUT ...." As I went through my mental check-list of excuses, though, I knew she was right. Just because you stick the Christian label on something, doesn't make it so. My motives and my actions in this particular circumstance had been motivated by impatience, selfishness, distrust and lust - not exactly the type of behavior a woman of faith should strive for.

Even though it wasn't fun to read her comments the choices I'd been making recently, I know she spoke from a place of love and concern and I know the message she gave me was prompted by the Holy Spirit. I'm so blessed to have people around me who can be honest with me and who challenge me to better. And I'm blessed to have a Heavenly Father who loves me too much to let things slide without discipline. And I'm blessed he wraps that discipline up in friendship.

"Let a righteous man strike me - it is a kindness. Let him rebuke me - it is oil on my head." - Psalm 141:5

Privileged.

"Privileged" is the word that's on my heart tonight.

Katie's brother-in-law is an actor currently starring in a play that's part of the Vancouver Fringe Festival. This evening, a group of us went out to cheer him on and support local theater. The play was fantastic, and as I was walking home I had what I like to call a "movie moment" ... one of those moments in life where everything seems just as it should, when all of the pieces seem to fall into place just right, where everything is so picture perfect it's almost as if you're playing a part in a scripted drama.

It had been raining for most of the evening, but by the time the play ended the rain had stopped ... the streets were still wet, though, so you could hear the cars swooshing through puddles as they drove past you and the sidewalks were glistening with the residue of raindrops and the air smelled fresh and clean and spring-like. I was walking along Granville Street and the sound of soft jazz music and conversation and laughter just spilled out of the coffee shops and restaurants. I could see the downtown skyline off in the distance, all lit up like a birthday cake. I was marveling at the fact that I can walk from the theater to my apartment (a dream come true!) and having one of those "wow, I can't believe I live here" moments and when I got to the corner of Granville and 12th Avenue, I just paused to take it all in.

I live here. I live here, in beautiful Vancouver. And not only do I live here, but I love living here. And not only do I love living here, but I love the life I get to live here.

And do you know what hit me, as I was standing there on the corner of Granville and 12th? This beautiful life that I am currently living ... this life of "movie moments" ... this life would never have come to be if I had not listened to that still, small voice inside of me nudging me to venture west instead of east. God made it very clear to me that Vancouver was where He wanted me to be, and so I came obediently. And that obedience had led to moments and experiences and blessings that have completely transformed my life in ways I never would have imagined.

I am really humbled by the reality that this life that I am blessed to be living & that I love so much was none of my doing. I didn't plan this. I didn't choose this. This was not the life I thought I wanted. My plans, my dreams, my goals, my ambitions ... they were all scattered somewhere between Times Square and Central Park in the hustling bustling cosmopolitan empire that is Manhattan.

I'm reading a fantastic book right now by an incredible woman named Elisabeth Elliott. In one of the chapters she talks about how, contrary to popular belief, she feels that being single is a gift that should be cherished. She writes: "Having now spent more than 41 years single, I have learned that it is indeed a gift. Not one I would choose. Not one many women would choose. But we do not choose gifts, remember?"

That line has stuck with me ever since I read it - we do not choose gifts.

Standing there on that street corner, I realized that I did not choose this life, but it was chosen for me. When I first moved here, I moved with a sense of obligation ... a sense that this was "Plan B" ... but now, just a few months shy of a year later, I know for a fact that my life in Vancouver was a gift from God to me. This is the life I need. This is the life I was made to live. This is the life that will make me happy. This city, this job, this ministry, these friends ... this is my purpose. This life is a gift and I am so incredibly privileged to have been given it. It may have been my Plan B, but it was never (not for a minute!) God's Plan B.

Thank you so much, Lord, for the amazing life you have given to me.

Privileged. That's what I am. ♥

Shaped for This

Confession - when I first felt that God was calling me to move to Vancouver, I was sure I was mistaken. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the whole scenario. Why in the world would He take a fluently bilingual Christian out of Quebec - the least evangelized area in all of North America - and move her across the country to British Columbia which has some of the best Christian schools and some of the largest churches in the country? It didn't make any sense to me. Even once I moved here and settled into my Vancouver life, I still couldn't figure it out and I even felt a little bit guilty about having moved out of Quebec. As crazy as it sounds, I felt like I had somehow betrayed the church there and had moved to an "easier" place to serve and minister. I felt a lot of shame about leaving a place so desperate for missionaries.

But last night, I was reading a blog post by a friend of mine who lives in Montreal. She was born and raised in Ontario, and moved to Quebec after college to pursue campus ministry. Her blog post was about how much she has fallen in love with Quebec - the people, the culture, the work, the ministry - and how she now can't imagine living and serving anywhere else. As I read her post, I realized that God has uniquely crafted each one of us for a specific task, a specific outreach, a specific ministry ... a specific place. Emily was made for Montreal. I was made for Vancouver. We are both right where we are meant to be.

Long before I was ever born, God knew that He was going to move me to Vancouver. The experiences I encountered, the people I met, the work I did, the stuff I studied - all of it was carefully molded and blended together by Him to prepare me for the task of serving Him here on the west coast. Years before I made the decision to board an airplane with a one-way ticket to YVR Airport, God was working in my heart, carefully shaping it so that I would fall head over heels in love with the people and culture of Vancouver. The Bible says: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD." (Jeremiah 29:11) ... Isn't that an incredible thought?