Second Chances

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I love stories. I’ve recently rediscovered my love for politics. I love to read. Right now, I’m reading a book that combines all my loves. The Presidents Club, by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy, details the elusive relationship between the presidents. In the first 50 pages of the book, I’ve found a beautiful story I can’t seem to forget.

Herbert Hoover’s reputation was terrible as he left the office of the presidency. He was blamed for the Great Depression; in fact the homeless villages got dubbed “Hoovervilles” for his inability to help the poor in America during the greatest economic downturn our country has seen. No one wanted to be associated with Hoover; his own political party asked that he not help with campaigning because they were afraid that it would hurt a candidate’s chances of being elected. According the authors of the book, Congress even talked about impeaching Hoover. He was hated.

Anyways, Howard Truman took over the presidency in 1945 during the end of World War II, and Hoover sent Truman a note indicating that if there was anything he could do for Truman, he would. We can’t be for sure what exactly happened, but Truman invited Hoover to the White House for his advice on how to handle the situation in Europe – hundreds of thousands of people were starving, farm lands were war-ravaged and a majority of the continent’s livelihoods had been destroyed, and Truman wanted Hoover’s help. What Truman did was more than ask for help; he was giving Hoover a second chance. Under Hoover’s watch, Americans lost jobs, filed for foreclosure on homes and struggled to feed their families. Upon Truman’s invitation, Hoover started to cry. To simplify the rest, Hoover accepted the chance to help out America, and humanity everywhere. He spent the next 18 months at the age of 71 (in the 1940’s this would have been very old), traveling the world trying to ensure that people were fed. He worked closely with Congress, the State Department and President Truman to generate new food sources, have other countries donate food and adjust agricultural policies in the U.S. to send to Europe. Hoover, along with Truman and other state leaders, believed that keeping people fed was crucial to defending Europe from communism.

The man whose reputation was that of being heartless and allowing Americans to struggle spent 18 months traveling around the world advocating against hunger. Why? Because he was given a second chance. Truman gave Hoover a second chance. I can’t get this out of my head. This story defines grace. The radical grace that changes life. Herbert Hoover’s life was no longer defined by the Great Depression, but also by saving lives of those in Europe from dying of starvation. His reputation was restored, and a life-changing friendship emerged above partisan politics. I want to be like Howard Truman. Not because I’m super concerned with reputations, Jesus’ own reputation was not so great with his enemies, but because I want to extend grace. I want to give second chances that change lives. My life has been changed by grace; in Christ, I have been given an, infinite numbers of second chances. May I be a radical grace extender.

I Am Not Alone

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The end of college has been a difficult season for me. The end of a relationship, the end of college and entering the big unknown without much direction has put me on my butt. I feel like a beat-up version of myself who is just trying to get through each day. Which I’m told is completely normal. The past few weeks, I’ve been suck in “my life sucks” mode with moments that remind me of God’s promises, but the moments are few and far between. Yesterday I received messages from two friends who I haven’t been in close contact with, and I was reminded of some very important truth. I am not alone. Countless others have been through this same transition before, and so many are in it right now. I am not alone.

I was so humbled. I felt like my eyes were suddenly open to God’s goodness in a season where I’ve felt beat up by the world. It was almost as if God himself removed blindness from my eyes and let me see all the good that He has blessed me with in the past couple weeks. Instead of having few moments of seeing God’s goodness, I’ve only had moments the past 2 days of “my life sucks.” I’ve seen restoration in some friendships. I’ve had my parents wrap their arms around me and tell me it’s going to be okay – something I’ve needed since I was 16 year old. In the midst of feeling like a failure for graduating without a job, I’ve had acquaintances, close friends and family remind me just how proud they are of me… something so healing; if only I could get it to sink into my heart. I’ve been forced to start to think about what I want out of life through dreaming and communing with God. Older, wiser women have shared stories of their past break-ups and broken hearts as encouragement that it does, in fact, get better. Psalms have come alive to me – talk about saying Amen at the end of Psalm 27 when David says, “Yet I am confident of this, I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord!” So many close friends and even those I’m not super close to have sat in my suffering with me to make sure I know I’m not alone. I am not alone.

I’ve been reminded that I’m oh so lost and broken, but that’s not the end of the story. I am deeply loved by a God who refuses to let me be in suffering alone, that’s why He sent Jesus, and why Christian community reflects God’s love. Even when I have nothing to offer, and I am a hot mess around friends, they love me in it. Because I am not alone.

Skinned Knees

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I bit it big time walking into my house on Friday night. I skinned my knees, my foot, my palms and even chipped my nail polish somehow. I was embarrassed and in pain. Thankfully my roommates rushed to my side and did all that they could, but they couldn’t take the pain away. At first I couldn’t wait for the wounds to stop bleeding, then I realized a lack of blood didn’t mean a lack of pain. My roommate came into my room to tell me a story and I was so focused on not crying and I was in so much discomfort that I had trouble listening to what she was saying.

Even as I laid down on top of my bed with Neosporin on each of skinned knees, my wounds were still tingling with pain, and I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything else. I was felt paralyzed and shaky; every movement I made hurt because I hurt. Thankfully, I’m recovering, my wounds have scabbed over and I’m not shaky anymore. I can move without thinking about being in pain. However, every once in a while, something hits my palm or I bang my knee, and as a result, I wince. Because it’s not fully healed, and it reminds me of the hurt.

Earlier in the week, I met with a counselor through my church. He talked about emotional wounds. Unlike my beat up body, emotional wounds cannot be seen. There are events in our lives that leave wounds, each person has different ones, but we all have them. Unfortunately we aren’t always aware of these wounds until they get skinned open again or if it gets hit. For me, a lack of stability in my life is like banging my already skinned knee. Right now, I seem to bang that knee a lot, and then I remember just how much it still hurts. It’s not always paralyzing, I can function normally most of the time, but not always. I’m still healing. Unlike physical wounds, emotional wounds take lots of time to heal. If only emotional healing was as easy as putting Neosporin on my knees.

I’ve found a lot of comfort in David’s words in the Psalms lately. He’s a messed up and faithful man with honest words; words that meet me in a season full of uncertainty and instability. David talks about waiting for God, and being confident that God will show up. Not because his life doesn’t suck at times, but because his life’s circumstances did not determine God’s goodness. There’s healing to be done in this season. God has me here to teach me something crucial about His character. So here’s to emotional wounds healing like skinned knees. Lord, I want to have the same faith as David, that despite uncertain situations, You are so very faithful all the time.

20’s

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I had a cool conversation last summer with a co-worker. I was commenting on how difficult the 20’s are. I’m 22. I’m broke. I’m unemployed. I’m single. I’ll be moving back in with my mom and dad. In so many ways, I feel like a failure. My college degree seems useless, but I’ll be paying it off for the next couple years. Anyways, I was telling this co-worker about how my mom told me that the 20’s are just plain hard. You don’t have much money, jobs are hard to come by and long-term vision may be lacking. All of which I’m currently experiencing. My friend, who was 28, responded, “Yes, it could be a difficult season, but think about how great the season could be too. Just you and God and a huge adventure.”

There are so many ideas about the 20’s. Each day I find a new blog about it. You should travel in your 20’s. You should save money in your 20’s. You should get married in your 20’s. You shouldn’t complain about not working your dream job in your 20’s. If I listened to all the advice that people have for this unique decade of my life, I would run in circles because I wouldn’t know where to actually go or what to do. I don’t need advice from others to make me feel even more confused.

My new theory is that one’s 20’s are confusing and hard. That’s why there’s such a desire to make sense of them. The quicker I can shake the idea that I need to have a plan or do things the same way as everyone else in order for something to be good, the quicker I can start enjoying my 20’s and this season of life. The unknown and uncertainty doesn’t make it any less of an adventure, and God is constant and good. I met with a pastor at my church this week and he told me that it’s important to acknowledge what is true about my current circumstances. I am unemployed, single and lacking in direction, but it’s also important to acknowledge what is true about God. He is always good. His love guides and sustains me. He is writing a beautiful story of with my life. Nothing about God changes even when my circumstances change. The God who brought me into relationship with Him here in Bloomington when I was 18 will continue to be faithful as I move home to Cincinnati on Sunday. I don’t need to make sense of my 20’s; I don’t even have to have a plan for my 20’s, I just get to walk closely with Jesus and let Him write the adventure.

Not Yet

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When I feel like my life is falling apart, I tend to call my mom a lot. During normal times in life, I usually talk to her once a day. When things are really going great, sometimes we only talk every three days. The past 3 weeks I think we’ve averaged talking on the phone three times a day. Such is life. We were talking on the phone on Friday and she mentioned a job opportunity; obviously this unemployed almost-college graduate’s ears perked up. She went onto say that there currently aren’t any of this position, but there would be soon. The department is not in a place to hire quite yet. Not yet. I responded back saying, “This seems to be the season of ‘not quite yets’, huh?” She chuckled and said confidently, “Caitlin, it’s going to fall into place soon.”

My life does not look like what I thought it would, as college graduation is less than a week away. Instead of apartment searching in Chicago, I’m preparing to move home with my parents. Instead of being about to start a cool new job, I’m still unemployed and applying for things with the only necessary qualification being a high school diploma. Two weeks ago in the midst of what will go down as probably the worst week of my life thus far, I heard the Lord say, “Caitlin, I needed to drastically redirect you.” And that He did. From a place of confidence in what the future looked like to the yuckiness of complete uncertainty. Yet, I’m reminded that I never really knew what the future looked like.

So here I am, in complete uncertainty, waiting. Waiting. Waiting for the not yets to become exciting cheers of finally. I am waiting to see what job God provides, waiting to see what church I end up attending, and waiting to see what community I’ll be a part of. Waiting reminds me of just how much I like to be in the know. I like to make plans, and have the necessary information to make said plans. That’s not my reality right now. I move home in exactly a week and all I know is that I’ve filled out a bunch of job applications, and I’ll be working at J.Crew until something else works out. Waiting reminds me that the only thing worthy of hope is Christ. In fact, my life here on earth is merely a waiting period until the perfect eternity of heaven. As much as I hate it, waiting is a reality; Moses and the Israelites waited in the desert for 40 years. In fact the premise of Christianity is built around the Jews waiting on a messiah, or Jesus. Entire generations waited.

As I journaled this morning, I was reminded that God cares more about my sanctification than He does my comfort. I am not comfortable right now. Waiting makes me anxious. It makes me a doubter. But it also reminds me that I serve a faithful God. I serve a God who goes to great measures to redirect me to a place that is not just good, but great. I serve a God who is working all things so that they do fall into place… in His timing, not mine. He will redeem all of these not yets for His glory.

Life in Transition

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I don’t do well with transition. Not for a lack of trying or praying. It was actually my transition to college when Jesus captured my heart because I couldn’t make sense of my own life anymore. Anyways, I started praying for my transition out of college last summer, and throughout the semester I haven’t stopped. The prayers have looked different – help me finish well, prepare community for me wherever I end up, not my will, but Yours, God. This transition has already been particularly difficult, and I’ve confessed to friends feeling lost, broken and confused. I feel like a sheep wandering aimlessly. I’m just struggling with how to move on post-college, which leaves me paralyzed and unsure if I want to get out of bed in the morning. I toss and turn all night and then it takes all my strength to put one foot in front of another and walk to class.

In the midst of feeling so broken, or as I keep referring to myself, “a hot mess”, I’m trying to say good-byes, finish up discipleship for the year and celebrate a great time living with my roommates. While my brain is running a million miles a minute, the Lord spoke a sweet truth to me this afternoon. I was confessing and crying and upset that I have nothing let to give, nothing left to offer. God so kindly reminded me that I have never had anything to bring to the table. It has never been about what I have to offer. God declares that His power is made perfect in my weakness. I have never felt so weak in my life.

My sister encouraged me to make a list of all the times I’ve felt overwhelmed, inadequate and paralyzed by the future and claim truth over it. It was beautiful to process through God’s goodness in seasons when I felt overcome by my emotions. My ability to acknowledge that God is good is not conditional on how I feel. I walked to campus yesterday and told the Lord that because my feelings are fleeting, I will cling to what I know. I know that God is good. I know that God is faithful. I know that God is working all things for my good. I know that despite that I bring nothing to the table except my tears, God will use my weakness for His good.

Easter Sunday

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In a season of uncertainty, I feel like I am waiting for things to fall into place. Just this weekend, I’ve watched several things fall into their said places, the “big” stuff is still coming. Easter has hit me very hard this year. I’ve been on the verge of tears as I contemplate Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection. Because my life feels like it’s stuck on Saturday. Good Friday has already happened, but Sunday is tomorrow. And when it’s Saturday, Sunday feels so far away. I’m waiting and hoping that death is not the end and that Jesus’ words will be right and He will be rised from the dead, but there’s a small seed of doubt. What if Jesus doesn’t show up on Sunday? What if I’m right to be a skeptic? With my back up against a wall, will Jesus show up?

Today is Easter Sunday. Today I celebrate that Jesus was and is who He said He was. Today the tomb is empty and Christ is victorious. Today the skeptics are made believers and doubts are put to death. Today I’m reminded that Saturday’s waiting and hoping is not in vain.

I might still be stuck on Saturday in my heart, but instead of doubting in my waiting, I can hope. I can trust. God will do as God has done. God comes into hopeless situations and inserts Himself into the story, saying, “Don’t worry, I’m coming back, and the best is yet to come.” Sunday is better than Saturday. This next season will be great, but only a shadow of the season after life in heaven. So here’s to hoping with the full knowledge that Sunday will come; resurrection is the ultimate victory, and I get to live in it. Lord Jesus- come reminding me of the victory you’ve won and that I get to live in it. I get to live in the reality of a King who died and rose again, defeating death and reminding me that the best is yet to come.

Rest

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February has exhausted me. I spent four weekends in four different places, leaving me irritable, tired and burnt out. About a week ago, before I left for the weekend, I had a conversation with a friend, in which I confessed feeling a lot of pressure – pressure to be a good friend, a good girlfriend, a good roommate, a good discipler and a good student. There are a number of things out of my control that have been heavy on my heart, so as a response, I’ve grabbed anything I could control and controlled the crap out of it. In the midst of a schedule that was not sustainable, I had fallen into performance mode, and no one was feeling the pressure of performing more than I was. And the silly thing was, besides some joking comments from friends, no one was telling me I wasn’t doing a good job at any of these roles; it was all me. I was the one putting pressure on myself and holding myself to impossible standards.

There’s a reason why we’re called to die to ourselves as Christians; we are our own worst enemies. I’m my own worst critic. If it isn’t how I’m eating, or working out, it’s how I’m caring for my friends or serving my roommates. I have ideas in my head of how I’m supposed to perform, and then I judge myself based on these standards. Absent from my scale is the fact that I’m freed from these standards. Jesus died on the cross so I don’t have to live up to anyone’s standards, not even my own. I’m free. Free from standards, or in biblical terms, free from the law. If I’m trying to achieve righteousness based on the law, I must follow the law in it’s entirety, which is impossible; hence Jesus. He fulfilled the law and set me free from it.

I’ve spent a lot of time resting this weekend. Rest is not easy for me; I start to feel lazy and laziness in my sinful brain translates to failure or punishment. Reality is, after two full days of rest, I’m starting to feel like myself again. I’m remembering why God’s commandment for a Sabbath is imperative. When I don’t rest each week, I end up having emotional breakdowns, feeling burnt out, and falling into sin patterns. I stop seeing God’s goodness because I’m just trying to survive and make it until bedtime. Rest is reminding me how much of my thoughts are based on worldly perspective – success does not begin with me. Victory has already been attained; will I live in light of it? Will I fight against my fleshly desires to measure my performance and place pressure on myself, and live in true freedom? I sure hope so.

Dead to Sin

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I started this semester flat on my face in sin. I was crying out to God and desperate for His grace. Well, I’m always desperate for His grace, but the first week of the semester reminded me of it. I had talked big game about wanting to truly enjoy my last semester at IU, but every fiber of my being felt like I was starting it off on the wrong foot. I started to realize that some of the decisions I was making were not good for me, or pointing people to Christ, but instead leading them into sin. The more I sat in my sin, the farther God seemed to be from me.

So what’s a girl supposed to do when God feels distant? Well, first I cried. Then I prayed, some sad pathetic, wallow in self-pity prayers. Finally, I talked to a couple close friends and confessed my sin. And then I prayed some more. Here’s what I began to understand: God doesn’t call me to flee from sin for His sake, but for my own sake. Sin clouds my judgment. Sin makes me question my identity. Sin isolates me from community. Sadly, there was some sin behavior that I had become very comfortable with in my life. In my daily quiet times, I would ask God that He reveal Himself to me, but I wasn’t actually looking for Him; I had become content with the way I was living.

Thankfully, God is good. Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross is once and for all. He died a brutal death so I can live in freedom from condemnation. When my flesh and Satan tell me that sin is okay and can be compromised with, God’s Word can fight the lies. Sin is serious. Sin affects my view of God and my view of myself. God calls me (and all believers) to purify myself from all ungodliness. Why? So I can see and experience Him. I’ve spent some good time in Romans 6 the past couple weeks, asking God to speak to me. Paul writes to the Romans, “For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin – because anyone who has died has been freed from sin” (6:6-7). My old self was crucified on the cross with Christ. Why? So the body of sin might be done away with. Sin has lost it’s power on me, until I give power back to it. The more power I give sin in my life, the less I will see Jesus because Jesus is the opposite of sin. There is only so much time in my day, if I fill it with sinful things, and things not for the Lord, the less I give Him.

My identity is not that of a sinner. I am a daughter of the highest King. I have been chosen and not rejected. But, I forget that. I choose to sin and put myself and my desires above God. I give sin power in my life again. When you give Satan an inch, he’ll take a mile… he’s sneaky and manipulative like that. I want to see Jesus and walk closely with Him, which right now looks like taking drastic measures to flee from sin. I pray that I can live out what Paul writes to the Philippians, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain the resurrection from the dead” (3:10-11). Here’s to choosing Jesus over sin, even when sin seems like not a big deal, because sin will leave me wanting more; only Christ can truly satisfy.

Amidst the Darkness

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I’m at a crossroads in my life. As a second semester senior, I don’t feel like I have a plan, which is killing the planner in me. My prayer each day begins with something along the lines of, “God, show me what You have for me starting in May.” Thankfully halfway through the prayer, it turns into, “Lord, I want the ability to trust you in whatever you have in store for next year, and I want to trust your timing. Strengthen me in the waiting.” The Lord has decided to be silent on His plan for me next year. So I’m waiting, not very patiently. I wish I could say that I’m okay with this, but to be honest, it’s an incredibly difficult season. I want to start to prepare for what comes next, but God is good in the waiting; in fact, in scripture it says, “Blessed are those who wait for Him” (Isaiah 30:18). I want to wait on Him, at least I want to want to wait on Him.

Today, I went on a run. It was 40 degrees and sunny on January 9th… this is such a rarity that I sat on my porch swing when I got home for a little bit. The sun was hitting the swing perfectly and instead of being cold, which would be normal for the 2nd week in January, I was a perfect temperature. The sun rarely shines in Indiana during January or February, which gets depressing for a sun-goddess such as myself. But as I’m walking through a dark season in my life right now, dealing with some hurt, some lies, the Lord’s silence and a lot of lasts, it seemed fitting to soak in the sun. It hit me at that moment that the Lord was reminding me that even during the dark seasons in life and during the year, we can see and experience the sun when sit in the right places at the right times. Had I sat outside much longer, the sun would have started to set behind the house in front of me and I would start to shiver, but at that moment, I got to sit and enjoy the sun’s light and warmth during a January day. It’s afternoons like today that make the winter a little more bearable; they’re like moments of hope amidst darkness of confusion and uncertainty.

Here’s to believing that God will continue to remind me how to hope during a time filled with fear, hurt, uncertainty and confusion.