As I sit here contemplating what to write for today's Five Minute Friday, I realize that I'm not brave enough to write what I really want to.

I really want to write about how bummed I am that I'm 31 and not married.

I really want to write about how disappointed I am that things haven't turned out how I thought... how they aren't even close.

I really want to write about the fact that my biological clock is doing some SERIOUS ticking and it's really irritating the crap out of me.

I really want to scream from the rooftops that having these thoughts and feelings does NOT make me desperate or pathetic.

I know that God put these desires in my heart for a reason and the fact is I'm just sick of being patient. But these desires are there and I embrace them. I hold fast to God's faithfulness and trust that someday He will give me the desires of my heart.

But to expound on these disappointments is too scary for me. Because then I'd have to admit how lonely I am and how I really don't feel whole without a man. And I'm not that girl.

I'm the strong one. The one who doesn't care what others think. The one that marches to the beat of her own drum & has fun doing it. The one that builds up my single friends with encouragement, but doesn't believe the same truths for myself.

Despite what others think, I'm not the brave one. I'm not.

Sunday night.

Exhausted, lonely, & despondent, I reluctantly dragged myself off the couch in order to get ready for church. I grumbled to myself as I got dressed. I didn't want to go. Not because I disliked church or because I had other plans, but because I just wasn't feeling it.

I was tired from an emotionally charged day, my shoulder was spasming, and lying on the couch with Amazon Prime's endless supply of movies just seemed so appealing.

But something got me up. Something got me to my car. And something kept me going down the freeway. That something was knowing that my girl Bianca Olthoff was going to be speaking. And when Bianca brings it, SHE BRINGS IT. I knew it was gonna be good and I had a distinct feeling that her words were going to help me get out of the church-funk I'd been in for a few months.

I love Bianca because she has this amazing way of speaking to the ghetto girl inside me. She snaps her fingers, she gets in your face, she calls you out... but most of all she is extremely gifted in speaking to the heart of the matter.

The current series at Mariners is called "Christian?" and it's addressing the labels, the misconceptions, the expectations, and everything else that comes along with being a Follower of Christ. Last week's message was great! Challenging, encouraging, and spot on, so I was eager to see what this week's message brought.

Needless to say, it didn't disappoint. Just like last week, I found myself nodding along, engaging in Bianca's message about being the salt and the light, even shouting out an "Amen" or two.

But the thing I got most out of tonight, the thing that struck me and stuck with me were these words from Bianca: "God strategically put you where you are. Where you are is where God wants you to be."

Oh yes, once again, my faithful Father has heard my cry. He's listened to my disenchanted heart and has seen how close I am to leaving my church behind in search of something different, something "better." He's seen the struggle I've had with the pain and the purpose of my walk and my journey at Mariners and tonight He communicated to me, through Bianca, that He's not finished. That I'm not finished.

I honestly can't remember in what context Bianca said those words. I'm sure there was some deeper meaning behind them, but what I got was that God has more work for me to do at Mariners. He has more people for me to meet, more of my story to tell, and He wants me to continue walking out my journey amongst this community.

So, at Mariners I stay. And knowing that decision is God's and not mine has given me great peace. I just love it when He works like this... when He sees my struggle and responds quickly. It solidifies the knowledge that He works out all things for my good, because I love Him, I trust Him, and because I believe.

The time comes in most relationships when reality sets in and you really begin to wonder if this is truly it, the match for you.

You become easily annoyed & disillusioned. You disagree a lot & the joyous feeling that used to bubble from the surface is nowhere to be found.

This is how I currently feel about my church.

2 years ago I found my home, my refuge, my sanctuary. I fell in love the first time I set foot in that worship center. I was instantly eager to get involved and connect to a new community. And boy did I ever. At this time last year I was involved in a Life Group, leading a recovery group, volunteering at People of the Second Chance, helping out in the office, on the prayer team, and in a Beta-Testing group for the Genesis Process. I was driving the 25 miles to my church almost every day of the week.

AND I LOVED IT.

Sure I was a bit overwhelmed with the amount I was spending on gas, but I was getting connected, I was serving, I was meeting new people, and I was learning so much. Things were tough at times, but it was a very significant point in my life where I learned a ton about my own personal boundaries (how to implement them as well as reinforce them) & about self-care.

But a point came where I got burnt out and in the Fall & early Winter of last year God took most of it away. Gone was People of the Second Chance, gone was the prayer team, gone was Genesis Process. Then eventually Life Group dwindled and I made the intentional choice to stop leading the recovery group.

Life took a turn and I found myself busier with work with less time for my community & less time to serve. The desire was still there, but I needed my cup to be refilled first before I could give anymore of myself away.

Along the way, several changes happened within my church. One of my favorite teachers moved on to another church, then the other favorite moved to a different campus (I'm still a bit bitter about that one!). Two of my close friends got fired, for reasons that still don't make much sense to me. Leadership roles have been changing, the Care & Recovery ministry has been evolving, but I'm finding that I don't like or agree with the direction it is going. I'm finding myself dreading church out of fear that it'll cause more & more disappointment.

In a way it's my fault. I put my church on a bit of a pedestal. Partly because I had never experienced the feeling of home at a church before and partly because the sense of acceptance and belonging was SO strong. I would be lying if I said I didn't have some pretty specific expectations that I hoped my church would meet over time (including meeting more single men... sue me.) and I'd be lying further if I said that I wasn't slowly falling out love with my church because it hasn't met those expectations.

Disenchanted... that's the best word to describe it. I am disenchanted with my church.

And in that disenchantment I'm struggling with the following: do I lean in and continue to march to my own beat, despite the fact that my views of the church have changed OR do I begin the search (yet again) for a new church home?

I've been here many times before and I'm honestly beginning to wonder what God is up to...

Is it me? Do I become disenchanted easily? Do I expect too much from my church and then get upset or annoyed when the church doesn't meet or exceed my expectations? (In this case, I definitely think that is a contributing factor).

Or is it God? Does He want me to keep moving, to keep exploring? Is He doing something that I'm not yet aware of?

At this point I simply don't know.

I do know that I can be prideful and that when people I love get hurt, I take their side without question. And people I love have been hurt by this church & the people in it, more then once. But it is just a church, run by flawed, broken humans... so can I really base my decision on that? I don't know.

And so the cycle begins again. A never-ending journey of trying to figure out what God is doing and where He's taking me (or not taking me). I'm not giving up yet and I'm working hard to remind myself to look at big picture and to remember that it isn't just about me.

And while I refuse to let these roots that have been growing deeper over the past 2 years to be torn up prematurely because of pride,  I know that if God wills it there is nothing I can do to stop Him.

Oh this tumultous world breaks my heart.

So much madness, hatred, violence, greed, and vitriol.

Sometimes I just don't understand it. It makes me question God's goodness. It makes me question my own heart. It makes me question grace.

After yesterday's events in Boston I had the very natural, very human reaction of sadness combined with bitterness. "Who would do such a thing?" I thought repeatedly throughout the day. "Who has so much hate in their heart that they would intentionally hurt so many innocent people?"

Oh right. Lots of people. Because free will applies to us all and many choose to use it to wound others.

"I hope they catch the people responsible and that they pay for what they've done." Oh yes, there it was. That vitriol. The very type of emotion that caused me such sadness was now pouring forth from my own heart and mind. And I didn't care.

My thoughts, my heart turned dark as I hoped for swift justice, for evil to get what's coming to him.

But then, a soft, gentle voice reminded me, "Lauren, Jesus has already paid that price. Whatever these people have done, they are forgiven."

"Nope God. Not buying it. Not listening. Don't care!"

I fought. I wrestled with my heart and with the distinct knowledge I have of God's truth. I didn't want to acknowledge it. I wanted to ignore the truth and give in to my sadness, my bitterness, my hatred. But He kept at it. His gentle voice would not cease.

"My son, He shed His blood for all My children, not just for the one's you deem worthy."

Ouch. "OK, I guess you have a point there."

"Jesus, covers it all and one day evil will be conquered for good. But until then, do not add to the evil. Do not give in to the hatred, the anger. Be my hands and feet. Be the good."

He was softening my heart and FAST.

And then this...

"There are no 'ifs, ands, or buts' when talking about grace."

There it was. His truth. And His ever persistent smack upside the head that brought my prideful bitterness to the ground.

There are no "buts" about grace people.

Yes, what evil sometimes accomplishes is horrible. What happened in Boston is gut-wrenchingly awful and grace in no way diminishes that fact.

But the scandalous truth is this... Grace covers it all. That's how powerful a force it is.

Grace covers those who constructed, planted, and detonated those bombs. Grace covers those who, like me, hoped for revenge and justice. Grace covers all the hate that's being spewed, all the evil that has ever been done.

BUT it also drives the good that is being done. It is God's grace, God's goodness, God's love  that had those people running toward the madness to help instead of running away. It is the force that caused people who just finished the marathon, tired, distraught, and full of fear, to run to give blood. It is what motivated restaurant owners to open up their doors, to offer free food, free wireless for people to contact loved ones, and a warm place to sit if people just didn't want to be alone. It is what reminded all of us that we are one nation, under God. United. It brought the city of Boston to a grinding halt as a strong community formed, unwilling to let evil win.

Whether we see it now or whether hindsight will be 20/20, the good will always outweigh the bad. And if you believe in God's truth, you know that evil will ultimately be conquered by good. In fact, it already has.

I sit here this morning, with my coffee and my laptop, and I think about Boston and other cities where innocents have been killed. I think about those who have been directly affected by the evil and my heart goes out to them. I pray that they see the good in this world, that they see the love pouring out around them. I pray that they find peace and they find a way to forgive those who did this. I pray this for us all.

I think about grace a lot. I reflect on God's goodness and how He gifted us with this dynamic, sovereign, and shocking force. A force so strong that not even the most evil of deeds curtails it's power.

That my friends is grace. And it is amazing.

The calm after the storm...

Well kinda.

The boxes are mostly unpacked, the painting is finished, & I'm finally feeling at home in my new place. Thank the Lord.

Moving is tough & something that I really don't want to have to do again for quite some time. But it was SO worth it.

I'm incredibly in love with my new home & am blissfully amazed at the blessings God brought forth during this transition. The move was seamless... the house fell into my lap, the packing was way easier then I anticipated, the actual moving of my stuff was pretty painless & quick, and the financial strain I was so worried about is no longer an issue. Through this process God made it abundantly clear that a new season was emerging. He threw everything into my open hands & said "Go." So I did.

And I couldn't be happier.

This morning I was in my kitchen, waiting for my bacon to cool, looking out into my beautiful back yard... I stood in stillness, amazed at what God had done in just 2 weeks. 

After all the worrying, all the planning, all the searching & all the wondering, He brought be here. To a beautiful home in a beautiful city, where I feel so grounded, so connected, and so at home.

Truly, all things are possible with Him in control.

You, who thinks that no one understands...
You, who thinks there's nowhere to turn...
You, who feels alone in a vast sea of life...
You, who is constantly comparing yourself to others...
You, who tries and tries and tries... only to feel like more of a failure each day...

I SEE YOU.

I see you hurting and I want you to know that you are not alone.
I see the wounds that you're trying to hide, the "you" that's working so hard to stay invisible.
I see your heart, your need to be loved, to feel loved.
I see your desperate need to be seen.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

My door is open and so is His. There is hope. I promise.

KNOCK. ASK. RECEIVE. That's all there is to it. A response will come, from me, from Him.

Just KNOCK.

"so come and look for me.
i'm sorry but it's like that sometimes.
i hate to make you bleed,
unless it leads you limping homeward.
so come back to my house
and i'll give what they can't offer.
it's just blood on the couch,
we'll clean it up together."

I heard this song a few weeks ago & cannot stop listening to it. The lyrics haunt me, the sound moves me to tears. I hear this song & I imagine my Father singing it to me. Willing me to draw nearer to Him, telling me He'll make things right, reminding me of His goodness.

Lately I've been caught up in my over-analytical brain, worrying about what my next steps will be & constantly second-guessing myself. My focus has been gradually shifting away from God because I've been too concerned with worldly expectations & desires. The shift continued, until last week I noticed I couldn't feel Him anymore, I couldn't hear His voice. This happens from time to time, but it sneaks up on me & always seems to throw me completely off guard.

I don't know why it does... I should come to expect it by now, especially when I allow myself to go 2, then 3, then 8 days without acknowledging Him or intentionally spending time with Him. I suddenly find myself far from His presence overwhelmed with feelings of frustration & confusion. Logically I know the only reason this has occurred is because I have moved. Not Him.

Life gets in the way & I forget to come into His presence.

The feeling of loneliness creeps up on me, until finally it's undeniable & threatening to choke the life out of me. This time it happened in the middle of the night as I was climbing into bed. A heaviness began to set in & then an uncontrollable need to cry out in the darkness. Tears came without reservation as I realized that I couldn't feel Him or hear Him. I couldn't even bring myself to call out Him.

It's one of the worst feelings in this world: feeling utterly & completely alone. The pain & desperation are palpable. The fear is unshakeable.

But today I sit here in the daylight, listening to the beautiful words of "Penny & Sparrow" & a revelation begins to form. I see that while God yearns for me, He does not force His presence upon me. He allows me to temporarily walk in a direction that isn't in alignment with His will because He knows that I am still walking towards Him.

He is everywhere & in everything. Which means that if I willingly walk a path of destruction or rebellion, He will ultimately use that to bring me back into His presence.

And if I walk a path of loneliness, fear, & pain, He allows it to happen because He knows that eventually I will limp Homeward. To Him. Always.

Because that's just me.

And that's just Him.

This is how He works in my life. He lets me make my mistakes & lets me take a different road, because He knows that I learn by experience. People can't tell me what to do (right Mom & Dad?). It just doesn't work because I'll ultimately make my own choice & if I fall, so be it.

Mistakes are what I do. Sometimes I repeat them over & over until it finally sinks in how destructive or pointless they are. Sometimes it only happens once for me to recognize that I need to go a different direction. But always, ALWAYS, I learn.

And the biggest lesson I learn is that even if I don't feel Him or hear Him, He is always there. I simply have to turn around and there He is.

Today I'm limping Homeward. I'm humbly accepting that the past 2 weeks have been a prideful battle of me trying to take the reins from Him. I'm acknowledging that EVERY time I try to take control instead of letting Him guide me, I fall. Sometimes hard enough to hurt myself. But He is gracious, loving, & kind. He offers His hand to me & helps me off the ground & pulls me back into His arms. He shows me the way to go & reminds me of His goodness.

What a beautiful God I serve and what an ever-expanding journey He allows me to take... with Him always by my side.

"Stop being a tough girl & take 2 Advil every 6-8 hours."

I'd been talking about my shoulder pain for almost 2 weeks, had been icing it, gently stretching it & trying to rest it as much as I could. But still it ached. And still I refused to take pain relievers.

Every time I got close to taking a pain reliever I'd stop & say to myself "You're strong enough to tough it out. Your clients make it through childbirth without pain meds, you can make it through a few days with an achey shoulder!"

But today, my wonderful, long-time chiropractor gave it to me straight.

"Lauren, out of the 17 years you've been my patient, I've seen you cry once. And that one time had nothing to do with pain, but with frustration because of your Guillain-Barre. Now you're crying because you're clearly in pain. It's OK to take a pain reliever."

And at that, I cried even harder. Oh my poor chiropractor. He had given me permission to admit my weaknesses & made it OK to let go. What a relief that was.

I don't know why, but his counsel is always such a surprise to me. 

It was a surprise when I beat myself up after spraining my ankle my Junior year of High School which prevented me from competing at the end of the swim season. He told me to take it easy on myself, to let my body rest & heal properly.

It was a surprise when I was going through the discouraging effects of Levaquin poisoning & the early stages Guillaine-Barre. He reminded me that if he can come back from partial paralysis TWICE in his life, then I could do it too.

And it was a surprise today, when I was pushing my body beyond it's limit, to the point that I could barely breathe through the pain. He validated my pain, told me it was OK to admit that it was too much to handle & instructed me to do something about it.

In each of these instances pride was standing in my way, keeping me from accepting my limitations, & pushing me further into a painful situation. I didn't want to accept that I couldn't compete in the final swim meets of the season. I didn't want to believe that my nerve & muscle weakness was anything more then my body needing time to recuperate after battling pneumonia. I didn't want to admit that my shoulder/collar bone were hurting so significantly that I'd actually have to take something for it.

Silly as it may seem, in each of these instances, I thought I was tougher than the ailment & I was determined to handle it on my own without help.

But I can't do everything on my own. Sometimes I need pain relief. Sometimes I need wise counsel. Sometimes I need permission to throw up my hands & say "Uncle!!!"

The people God uses to bring these humbling revelations to light are not always who I expect. I think that's what makes the counsel so effective. I often drown out the voices of those closest to me when it comes to straight talk. So, when someone involved in my life, but not embedded in my life, calls me on this stubborn pride of mine, I know it's serious. I know I need to listen.

Even though I'm in pain (a lot less of it now that I've finally taken that Advil) and even though I'm being forced to take a rest (yet again... when will I learn?!), I'm incredibly thankful for the people God uses to help bring me back to center. It's often unexpected, but like I said, that's what makes it even more powerful.

Maybe, just MAYBE, next time my pride won't get in the way.