in that moment of surrender

of vision over visibility

I did not notice the passers-by

and they did not notice me.

-Moment of Surrender by U2

When life weighs us down it is easy to think that God is missing. I mean, we know that he is always there, but sometimes it feels like he really is just up in the clouds somewhere looking down and not interacting. You think, "Why would God put me through this? Why would he leave me alone?" One of my absolute favorite books, The Scent of Water by Naomi Zacharias,  addresses this issue in the most beautiful of ways. Bear with me. I intended to only quote a portion, but I feel as though the entire thing is too beautiful to truly take a portion out. In this section, Naomi is visiting a family in Italy and the father is showing her how he makes wine.

"Giovanni motioned for me to lean close to a large plastic container filled with juice. If he wanted rose wine, the grape skins are removed in a few days. For luscious red, the skins remained a while longer to infuse their color into the juice.

“If the container is not strong, the wine will explode during the fermentation process,” he said. “This is why Jesus said, ‘Do not pour new wine into old wine skins.’ The old skin is a little bit worn; it cannot handle the force of fermentation, and it will break.”…After fermentation, lees—deposits of yeast—create sediment in the bottom of the vat of wine. Giovanni guided me over to another container and pointed to the distinct line along the bottom. “Now I must transfer the wine into a new container and leave the sediment behind. The sediment is a natural part of the process, but it is bitter. If it remains too long, it will not improve the flavor, but will make the wine bitter.” The lees will affect and enhance the flavor up to a certain point, so the kind of wine desired in production determines when wine is separated from the bitter sediment. And so, under the watchful eye of the contadino, the wine is transferred into a fresh container to preserve the flavor.

                When the skins are ultimately removed, they are not thrown away. “You think they are finished, that there is no more juice inside of them, but there is,” he explained. The skins are squeezed carefully again, this time by a press that knows the right shape and pressure, rendering more juice that will become wine.

                “In the book of Philippians, Paul says that every knee will bow and every tongue will confess. How can it be so? There are many people who, if you say to them, ‘ You are created by God to bring glory to him’—they will say it isn’t so. They don’t believe. They will not give him any glory. And it seems there is nothing we can do. But they are like these skins. If you squeeze them with your hands nothing will come out. It seems finished. But when faced with the Creator they will spring forth with rich juice because they are made in his image; they cannot help but reflect his image. Like this, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”…I found it purposeful that the sediment was there at all., that bitter yeast was necessary for fermentation, and that it serve a purpose for a time. Without the knowledge of the process necessary to achieve flavor, an amateur would mistakenly conclude that a bitter taste should be removed immediately or avoided all together. But this wasn't the case. The sediment was part of a necessary process, and the wine was not immediately relieved of its bitterness by the contadino. The process required the careful eye of one who knew when enough time had gone by, when the presence of sediment no longer served to enhance but would instead destroy—but one who also knew enough to risk the presence and potential of something bitter, for its proportion made the flavor true. And within its truth lay the texture and richness that was the very character of wine itself, the difference between a good wine and one that is legendary.

                I have been thinking about my life quite a bit lately, the parts that I wish were not there, the places that still ache. While I do not believe that God caused the harsh things to happen, I do  think he allowed them. The bitter thus far has been potent, and at times it seemed to threaten to ruin the flavor all together. At times I thought it was ruined. Perhaps, like a contadino, God’s watchful eye was on me, and he allowed that which was painfully bitter to infuse something purposeful. Somehow, believing that he would have intervened and said, “Enough,” if it was going to destroy me—or that perhaps he did do that—seemed comforting.

                I am not in a place where I can say I am grateful for all that has happened. Given the choice I still wish very much that it could have been different, that there had been another way to have learned the lessons. I struggle to accept the life that is mine because it is not the story that I wanted. And not a day goes by that I don’t notice it still hurts inside.

                But I can say that if I had to choose between who I was before and who I am now, without being able to alter the path of events, I would pick the now, even with all that it carries. Life was simpler before; I didn't carry some of the same sensitivities, and there weren't the same relational land mines another could unknowingly step into. But now I see the world with perspective; I view people through vastly different lenses and recognize beauty in things that once escaped my notice. God seems more mysterious—sometimes mysteriously confusing, absent, and maddening. But always mysteriously true. If I am honest, life is more complicated, but undeniably richer.

                The truth is, I didn't really like the taste of the wine that had not endured a process. It didn't taste bad. It was just…forgettable. I can tell you what it lacked more than I can articulate what it contained. It lacked fullness and substance and something that made you savor the very essence of a sip even as it trickled down your throat. I tasted the wine that was a deep shade of burgundy velvet—the wine that had undergone the process of fermentation in which sediment had formed and been filtered and skins had fully infused their color, the wine that had accepted the gift of time until it was ready to be tasted—and it was a sip of the extraordinary. Given the choice, I would opt for a life that is extraordinary over a life that is simple. Perhaps I was not meant to be a simple girl."

I'd read this book before a few times, and though I found this chapter to be quite beautiful, underlining a few portions of it, the true impact did not hit me until I realized how much in my own life I had tried to remove the bitterness, to fight with God, and create my own way rather than trusting than trusting the process. 

It's not easy to admit that you're wrong. Pride rears it's ugly head and belittles you a bit, but I think admitting our failures often reminds us of how much we are constantly in need of a savior. We can't do this life alone. For the past few months I have been praying fervently to God and for the first time in ages I felt him respond with full certainty. I told him the desires of my heart and he asked me to trust him, to be still and wait on him. to guard my heart, and to not be afraid.

 He reminded me of these things constantly. I would smile and nod and say, "I got it God I understand."

But did I? Really? 

I still expected things to go the way I'd planned. I needed to be in control and I did not even realize I was holding so tightly until a friend shared his own testimony and I saw the similarities. We knew that we should trust God, we had quite a bit of head knowledge, but our hearts weren't there. I was fighting against the very things I had prayed for.

More importantly, I also just feel like more than anything God is asking me to allow him to work through the bitterness in my life. There is a purpose. I am not done yet. He keeps asking me to wait and trust him and I know that I should, but I am not doing it. So I’m  stepping aside trusting that God will point me in the direction he wants me go. I am confident that he will make that clear when my time comes and in the meantime I will struggle with patience and trust, setting fear aside.

I’m excited about all that he is doing in my life right now even if I don’t always like it because I know in the end the outcome will be more beautiful than I can imagine...even if that is not in this life.

-----------------------------------------

Click here to purchase a copy of The Scent of Water. I highly recommend it!

Listen to the Mustn'ts

When I was a child I loved Shel Silverstein--If I'm being honest I still love him. 

One of my favorite poems was called "Listen to the Mustn'ts". It told me to look beyond what I was told to the truth within. Funny that this is something we teach to children, and yet are so easily coerced into doing the opposite. 

Little half truths and twisted lies lead us astray. Pull us from our belovedness in Christ. When Satan speaks we know he is telling lies, and yet we listen.We allow those things to shape our being rather than the truth of God's love. 

"He doesn't like you because you aren't pretty, smart, brave, sane...insert thing here...enough" 

"She doesn't want to be your friend because....",

"You aren't important." 

"You are alone."

Lies!

The lies we are told play on our insecurities, making us feel less than we are and worst of all they encourage us seek our identity in fruitless things. In our social or marital status, in our things (or lack thereof). We sit, and we mope, and with that little lie planted in our heads we create an entire universe to live in where we are the center. These lies all corrupt our pride in some way and as C.S. Lewis said so eloquently, "...the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere flea bites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.” -Mere Christianity

Pride kills. 

It creeps in seemingly unnoticed as it corrupts our hearts, turning us more towards ourselves and further from the God who loves and created us. Even, or perhaps especially, when we wallow in self pity we are victims of pride. We are told that we are not unaware of the devil's schemes and that he prowls like a roaring lion 

(I love that image. Lions are silent when they hunt, but the Devil is so prideful that he roars--making his presence known--as he attacks. Wow.)

and yet we still fail, and will continue to do so until that glorious day when death and evil are defeated.

If I sound overly preachy, friends, I do not apologize. This truth it haunts me. In my own life I am so often a victim of these schemes. 

I fight and I fall. 

I fight and I fall. 

I fight and I fall.

It seems a never-ending cycle. 

And you might feel the same, but I promise you friend, a brighter day is coming.

Don't listen to that voice telling you that you are not worthy.

You were worth dying for.

Listen to the Mustn'ts

by Shel Silverstein 

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,

      Listen to the DON'TS

      Listen to the SHOULDN'TS

The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S

      Listen to the NEVER HAVES

Then listen close to me-

      Anything can happen, child,

ANYTHING can be

The Tree's Prayer

In my new found love for all things George MacDonald I came across this beautiful poem and it quickly became a favorite.

The Tree’s Prayer
By George MacDonald
Alas, ’tis cold and dark!
The wind all night hath sung a wintry tune!
Hail from black clouds that swallowed up the moon
Beat, beat against my bark.
Oh! why delays the spring?
Not yet the sap moves in my frozen veins;
Through all my stiffened roots creep numbing pains,
That I can hardly cling.
The sun shone yester-morn;
I felt the glow down every fibre float,
And thought I heard a thrush’s piping note
Of dim dream-gladness born.
Then, on the salt gale driven,
The streaming cloud hissed through my outstretched arms,”

Tossed me about in slanting snowy swarms,
And blotted out the heaven.
All night I brood and choose
Among past joys. Oh, for the breath of June!
The feathery light-flakes quavering from the moon
The slow baptizing dews!
Oh, the joy-frantic birds!—
They are the tongues of us, mute, longing trees!
Aha, the billowy odours! and the bees
That browse like scattered herds!
The comfort-whispering showers
That thrill with gratefulness my youngest shoot!
The children playing round my deep-sunk root,
Green-caved from burning hours!
See, see the heartless dawn,
With naked, chilly arms latticed across!
Another weary day of moaning loss
On the thin-shadowed lawn!
But icy winter’s past;
Yea, climbing suns persuade the relenting wind:
I will endure with steadfast, patient mind;
My leaves will come at last

A reminder

One day I want to:

-visit India. It seems like one of the most magical of places.

-backpack across Europe with someone I love. 

-hike to the top of a mountain and watch the sunset (is there anything more beautiful?)

-find a place that I truly call home.

-work in an independent bookshop

- take a flight at random to a place I've never been.

-visit Australia

-work for a ministry that is truly making a difference and sharing God in a beautiful way.

- adopt 

-have a truly loving family

-believe with confidence that I am in the heart of what God wants for me.

-go sky diving

-and scuba diving

-knit a solid blanket

-crochet one as well

This list is ever growing and clearly in no particular order, but sometimes I need to remind myself that I have dreams and they are larger than my disappointments and closer than I realize :-) 

not with haste

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

A simple question.

“Someone who loves God more than he loves me.” I said. “Someone who loves to travel and has a spirit of adventure. Someone who values family—even if theirs is not great.”

Silence fell. I was nervous. These were answers that I knew, but when I said them aloud they fell short. What was I looking for? I had found men that fit these traits, but still fell short. Was it me? Was I requiring too much? I thought about it for days and then I had a conversation with a much loved friend. She felt similarly and I asked her the same question. “What are you looking for?” Her response was beautiful. She wanted to feel loved. She wanted to feel valued. She wanted the same things that I wanted, but she did not believe that she was worthy. Her past dating history had proven that. Guys had ripped her heart out of her chest and trampled on it.

Did we give too freely of ourselves? We wondered. We talked for hours and in the end we realized that we knew less than when we had begun. We knew what we were looking for, but we did not know if we would find it. We wanted to believe that it was true, but nothing pointed in that direction.

Or so we thought.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation though. It just kept playing over and over again in my mind. Have you read the book the Perks of Being a Wallflower? Even if you haven’t I am certain you have heard that one beautiful quote that stopped me in my tracks and left me a bit of a blubbering mess after reading it for the first time.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

Simple. Poignant. True.

The first time I encountered this quote I had a strange notion of love. I wrote this blog

https://www.facebook.com/#!/notes/india-c-winslow/cause-its-a-long-way-down-when-your-hopes-are-high-as-mountains/83232584813

At the time I  was naïve enough to believe that soul mates existed, but the heart of the statement is still there, “What type of love do we think we deserve?”

I think for girls like my friend and I there is not a real answer to that question. Not a direct one at least because we often feel undeserving of love so where do we begin? Well, I just finished reading Prototype by Jonathan Martin—a book I recommend to everyone—and on the very first page he says this:

“So, who are you? Forgive me for being so forward. I know we’ve only just met. I don’t mean to be abrupt or intrusive. But if we’re going to say anything truthful about becoming more like Jesus, surely we have to tell the truth about ourselves first. I know it’s a little premature to be disrobing our souls to one another. On the other hand, if you read books the way most people do—in the bedroom or bathroom or squeezed into an uncomfortably small seat on an overcrowded airplane, shielded by the false privacy of headphones—this is already a pretty intimate thing we’re doing. Besides our lives are too important to remain hidden behind self-protective social graces. So, let’s get right to it.What if it were possible to know your true identity? What if it were possible to hear the name we were given before the foundation of the world? What if it were possible to be so truly and fully alive—so fully human—that no matter what happened, you would be able to live without fear?”

And that final question (I added the rest to give you an idea of Martin’s heart. Isn’t he delightful?) resonates with me. What if that were possible?? What if I could truly see myself the way that I know that God does? If I did what type of love would I feel deserving of then? I think it is unfair of me to think any other way and in that light I see the men in my life in a new way. If I got any part of that early blog post right it was the thought that the love we all deserve is a love where we feel loved in return! I know that is true and obviously that is something we all desire, but we need to feel it strongly and confidently and I do not know how to get there. Perhaps a lack of faith holds me back? (Dear God, help my unbelief!) Lack of evidence of it in my own life through my parents and grandparents, lack of execution in the guys that have dated me. It just all seems to point to this vicious cycle of disappointments that leads me to cry out, “God, why am I even trying?” I guess in the end though the answer is because my heart continually longs for it and I trust that God hears me.

Stupid fears get in the way. Fear of being let down, broken, disappointed…all culminating into a fear of being right. That we really aren’t worthy of being loved and that is not okay. Martin says,

“Increasingly, I’m coming to believe that fear is at the heart of all sin and disaffection. Fear that God will not be enough for us; fear that the identity we’ve been given is somehow incomplete. And we live in a world in which so many people tell us that we have so much to be afraid of. It’s how the legion rules us: by manipulating our fears. We are taught to fear rejection, to fear others, to fear germs, to fear the world, to fear death, to fear the future…the more conscious we become of our fears, the more mindful we are to protect ourselves and our hearts. And the more we try to protect ourselves the less able we are to connect with the boy on the bike or the girl on the trampoline. When we protect ourselves from what we fear, we also undermine our capacity for wonder.”

(Before I continue this quotation because it is about to get SO good. I wanted to explain that boy on the bike/girl on the trampoline thing because it is pretty important to the entire book. Martin believes—and I support this belief—that there was a time in everyone’s life before they were truly tainted by the world when they truly felt alive and close to God. We may not have realized it at the time, and it wasn’t anything religious just a sense of wonder at the world around us. For him it was riding on his bike in his neighbor. For another it was jumping on a trampoline. For me it was exploring my neighborhood and sitting on the beach…so when that statement is used I think of it as youthful naïveté and optimism.)

“The short epistle of 1 John makes a shockingly simple claim: God is love. It also tells us that “perfect love casts out fear,” and “he who fears has not been made perfect in love” (1 John 4:18 NKJV). The language is so clear and direct that the power of this contrast can easily be lost on us. But let it sink in for a moment: If God is love, and perfect love casts out fear, then fear is the opposite of everything that God is. If perfect love casts out fear, then perfect fear must also cast out love. To put it more starkly, fear casts out God in our lives.”

As I sat up at night praying for clarity, praying for wisdom and guidance that simple verse haunted me, continually popping into my mind along with Martin’s description of it and I realized something. I was trying too hard. I was over complicating the issue. What I was looking for was not only someone who loved God more than he loved me, but someone who loved me in a way that was glorifying to God. Someone who put my needs before his own as I would do. Someone who knew the intricate workings of my heart and was sympathetic to them. Someone who did not think me silly for worrying about the tiny things, but who looked me in the eyes and said, “Don’t worry. God’s got you.” Someone who would hold me close when God felt far away and would guide me back—because it was always me that strayed—and someone with whom I could do the same. The adventure, the family, everything else fell into that one simple thing. It was exactly what I’d prayed for all of my friends whose relationships I loved watching grow, but something I had neglected to feel worthy of myself.

How odd that minds work in this way!

And in that moment I knew that something needed to change. I could not let fear rule my heart. The world presents this image of what love is supposed to look like and it is wrong. This is love. This is what God desires for us. Anything less is allowing fear to rule and casting out God…

That’s no easy thing to pray for and quite frankly it terrifies me more than almost anything else in the world, but this is where I stand. Right on the edge praying for God to catch me if I fall.

"and I will love with urgency
but not with haste"