"Merry sad Christmas, Beloved"

Hey friends. It's been awhile.

I don't know if I'll ever follow through on my writing about my lack of follow-through; it's kind of boring.

But I wanted to get my voice out there again, especially as I just read a blog post that resonated with me and I want to jump off of that one.

Here is that post. You should read it:

http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/2013/12/the-fall-of-christmas.html

If you didn't just read it, she talks about how her Christmas tree fell down, and how she saw it was going to fall but she didn't know how to stop it from happening. She ties this event to loneliness and joy...how she was trying to find joy before the tree fell and that the eventual fall of it just seemed so "effing perfect" because her Christmas was already well on its way to "Sucksville." (I love her honesty and language.) She says that the fall of her Christmas tree felt right; it reminded her that Christ didn't come to fix it all, He came to be with us in it all. He came to be with us in our loneliness.

I'm glad she gets it. I'm glad that post and others like it are out there at this time. Christmas is often not a time of joy. My dad's friend's son committed suicide Christmas Eve and my parents just went to the funeral this morning. A friend's mom died several years ago at Christmas time. Another friend's dad just died unexpectedly. There is tragedy like this everywhere, and even loss that doesn't seem as severe can be felt more deeply at this time.

This Christmas, emotions surfaced over a lot of things I hadn't fully dealt with. These emotions weren't convenient, but the reality was I was experiencing them, and I had a hard time pretending I was fine around family. When found crying in my room, I was told to "suck it up." There's no room for that on Christmas, right?

I hope no one ever tells you that. I hope you never believe the lie that you have to act put together when you're not. I hope that you were able to feel deeply and grieve over any losses and heartache and guilt and pain and longing in your life and not pretend to be happy if you weren't this Christmas. I hope you were able to talk about your deepest emotions and issues with an empathetic family member. I hope you were able to drink wine and eat food not as a coping mechanism. I hope there were babies and little kids and pets surrounding you.

But most of all, I hope you were able to experience, like me, on my knees and my face on top of my yoga mat, the deep and wonderful love of a God whose name is Immanuel, "God with us."

Peace and love, mis amigos,

Jules

In All Things, Give Thanks

I am thankful for…

• Never running out of gas when I allow it to go dangerously low
• Hot yoga (not Bikram)
• Reading/hearing writer friends' novels in development
• Beer + Scrabble
• My parents' graciousness
• My ability to stop bad behavior with a look
• Brany's rambling and stuttering in broken English when he doesn't know the answer to my question
• A's in my first two grad school classes
• Living on a prayer with Melanie
• Dancing in Boystown
• Inquisitive and attentive audiences for my unbelievable-sounding Bolivia stories
• Babies
• The times I don't need to set an alarm for anything
• The magic of Pandora radio
• My grandma's strength and normalcy after her mastectomy
• Deep dish pizza
• Iglesia Kairos and the friendships I'm developing with people from IDP and in my Bible study
• Wisdom that comes from relationships
• Friends from all parts of life who listen, encourage, inspire, stretch me, and teach me
• Steadiness and peace
• Kind strangers
• Photography
• Feeling empowered through the Spirit to speak, write, teach, sing, and create without shame and in the name of Truth
• The grace and joy I'm finding in this season

Lion & Lamb

As someone who likes to constantly be busy and moving and pursuing new things and talking to friends and planning and dreaming, who feels pangs of guilt for laying around, and who has trouble directing energy into creative processes because perusing Facebook, Instagram, and playing "Ruzzle" (gahh, addicting!) is easier, I don't often rest in the ways that are best for me.

This has gotten me thinking about carving out a weekend for a retreat, leaving behind all of my work, distractions, even food, and just escaping to some random church or cabin in the woods. I don't know how else I'm going to get alone with my thoughts and with God when I have such a lack of self-discipline and self-control. I check my phone, watch a TV show, get something to eat, go work out, listen to music, daydream, waste time online, and never get to things that are on my list, like play guitar and write and read all of those books on my list. And most importantly, pray. Like, really pray. Not the kind of praying I sometimes do throughout the day. But true, deep prayer that makes you cry because you realize once again that you're loved by the God of the universe. Prayer in the form of meditation. Prayer that is whole-hearted surrender, where anything that has to do with the physical world almost disappears.

I'm always reading at least a couple books and multiple articles at the same time. I don't think I have ADD, but maybe I do. Anyways, one of the books I've been reading and re-reading after every sentence and/or paragraph and/or page is "The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus" by Brennan Manning. It is incredibly healing and life-giving. My underlining and highlighting is getting out of control, and so are the number of times I write the word "yes" or "!!!" in the margin. The essential intention behind this book is to paint the picture of Jesus as the Lion and the Lamb—"The Lion who will kill all that separates us from Him; the Lamb who was killed to mend that separation…" This book is changing me. It's renewing me. It's helping me to love myself more, to forgive myself, to not be so damn hard on myself.

Resting with this book is true rest for me. Same with anything by Henri Nouwen, as well as Jesus' own words in that one old book…you know the one…

Some of my favorite quotes from Manning's book:

Quote from Bernard Bush: "If you love yourself intensely and freely, then your feelings about yourself correspond perfectly to the sentiments of Jesus."

"He calls me to repentance, to humbly acknowledge my failure without being unduly disturbed by it, and in the power of His Spirit to get on with the compassionate life."

Quote by the Trappist monk Thomas Merton: "Thank God, thank God that I am like other men, that I am only a man among others. It is a glorious destination to be a member of the human race."

"To us who cry out from the depths of our brokenness for a hand that will touch us, an arm that can embrace us, lips that will kiss us, a word that speaks to us here and now, and a heart that is not afraid of our fears and tremblings; to us, who feel our own pain as no other human being feels it, has felt it, or ever will feel it and who are always waiting for someone who dares to come close—to us has come a man who can truly say, 'I am with you.' Jesus Christ is God with us and our every human pain reverberates in his innermost self."

(Jesus paraphrased by Manning): "I will not leave you alone. You are mine. I know each of My sheep by name. You belong to me. If you think I am finished with you, if you think I am a small god that you can keep at a safe distance, I will pounce upon you like a roaring lion, tear you to pieces, rip you to shreds and break every bone in your body. Then I will mend you, cradle you in My arms and kiss you tenderly."

"But living out of the center has taught me that every failure succeeds in some way. It provides the opportunity not only to humble the self but also to be gentle with the failure of others. If your life or mine was an untarnished success story, an unbroken upward spiral toward holiness, we might never come to understand the human heart."

Ahhh. SO GOOD. READ THIS BOOK! 

People, you are LOVED. And if you feel lost right now, SEEK. Jesus is relentlessly and tenderly loving you, no matter what shit you've done or thought, or continue to do or think. No matter how much you have rejected Him, or still do. 

And now I'll get off my soapbox.

Also, I am taking recommendations for personal retreat venues close to Chicago.

Thanks for reading, friends. I always hope the words I write can bless, inspire, or encourage. I hope what I wrote here allowed something good to stir in you. :)

"New Girl" musings

I am probably not in the minority when I say I love the show "New Girl." It has humor, spirit, likable characters, and even explores some deeper themes every now and then.

For those of you that don't watch it (spoiler alert--kind of--to people that do), this past Tuesday's episode centered around the theme of "goodness" and what that means and where it even gets us. Schmidt is facing the repercussions of dating two girls at the same time and having it blow up in his face, and is wondering if he is a "good" person. He wants to know that he is and feels like he can only know that through other people telling him he is, so he asks his friends, strangers, and a rabbi if he is a good person. He then saves someone's life by giving him the Heimlich, and while it momentarily makes him feel good, he then goes back to needing people's recognition of his goodness. Then, he questions why people should even be good when bad things happen to good people all the time. There are some comments made about moral integrity and in the end Winston says to Schmidt that he's a good person and just needs to work on being a better person. He gives Schmidt a candelabra as a reminder "to be a better person," saying something like it will "illuminate" his mind or his path.

I felt for Schmidt. I understand those questions. I understand the need for affirmation. I totally know where he's coming from and I know what Winston said and did was well-intended. 

But I couldn't help but think how miserable it would be to live just "trying to be better." To question all the time if I was a good person or a bad person. To desperately need humans to tell me, "Julie, you're a good person." How miserable would my life be if my actions determined my "goodness" and what I thought about myself? How miserable would my life be if I couldn't forgive myself because I didn't think I was worthy of forgiveness? 

I read a little bit of Psalms tonight and in this translation the words "unfailing love" occur over and over. I had written at the top of a page awhile back "unfailing love=mercy." Thank God for mercy. Thank God for grace. Thank God this life isn't about striving to be a better person. The Spirit gives me freedom. I have to daily live in that freedom and recognize the pursuit of God's love no matter what mistakes I make every day and where my heart is at. It's still amazing to me after all these years how much I can mess up and shut out the Spirit, shut out everything I grew up knowing, and begin to question, "Who am I??" Just like Schmidt, I'll temporarily wrestle with questions revolving around my goodness and morals, and then come back to remembering I am nothing. I am dust. Yet God calls me His beloved. And that overwhelming pursuit of love that began at creation and was demonstrated to us fully on the cross is the only reason I am able to do any good at all. I will fail time and time again to be a better person than I am right now, or than I was before, but Jesus draws me into a better life. 

Amen.

I'm Coming Back

Public writing has not been easy for me lately. Whenever I try to write anything for a blog post, I end up ripping it to shreds.

Because of my own criticism, as well as my own desire to keep more of my experiences and thoughts private, I've felt somewhat devoid of a voice lately. While my personal journal writing is almost the only way I can process how the external matters of my life are internally affecting me, any public writing accomplishes this plus gives me a feeling of excitement and fulfillment. I have ideas and experiences to contribute. I have a voice that cannot and should not be stifled, by me or anyone else. I'm realizing censoring and stifling are two very different things.

I need to begin writing for a public audience again. Reading books, articles, and friends' blogs allows me to feel connected to humanity in ways that nothing else can. The stories, wisdom, and insight inspire, enlighten, and encourage me. And I know I too have the same ability to inspire, enlighten, and encourage. I have the ability to expose my own humanity and my encounters with a loving God. I am gaining wisdom. I am digging deeper. I am learning discernment. And I want to speak into the brokenness and pain and divisions in this world. I can't claim I know a lot, but I believe in a God that can use me for a greater purpose in this world than I have the ability to understand in this moment, or maybe ever.

So this post is really just a post to say, "Hey, I'm here! And I miss sharing life with you! And I have things to say!" Between full-time work, two night classes, spending time with family and friends, eating, exercising, trying not to get too addicted to my new super cute iPhone 5c, and getting adequate sleep, I feel I don't have time for much. But I do have time for a paragraph of insight every now and then.

I'm ready to not only be on the receiving end of information and insight. I'm ready to contribute.

I'd Swim Across Lake Michigan...

Healing rain pounds the earth

and my soul.

I guzzle* red wine

and dance in ecstasy

in this rustic cottage,

a haven.

Oh God,

How I prayed for

peace,

And forgot:

It's not the absence of thought,

but the remembrance of truth.

You are mine,

and I am yours.

You are love,

I am your beloved.

You are hope,

and I hope in You.

Oh sweet peace.

* I'm not a drunk. Guzzle is just a great word.

(Poem written last Monday night, in the middle of a thunderstorm.)

This past week I went to Sawyer, Michigan to an idyllic (albeit a bit cultish) little community called Bethany Beach where my family and I have spent almost every summer since I can remember. This summer was the first I spent in our rental cottage without my dear familia. While I love being there with them, I was in desperate need of a week alone. A week to get away and not have to meet any demands. A week to do things for me. A week to try to get out of my head. A week to try to rid myself of anxiety and fear and allow myself to relax. It was such a blessing that my parents paid for this vacation for myself and friends (I had a few friends come for a couple days.) Really, beach vacations are just the best. I mean, there's just no question in my head.

Solitude is wonderful for your soul. Did you know that? It is amazingly cathartic. So are old friends and meteor showers.

I jumped back to reality this week with a couple interviews for teaching assistant positions, and a messy bedroom and basement full of still unpacked suitcases, and bags and boxes of clothes, shoes, books, purses, and other miscellaneous items from the past. So sorting through all of that is my project for the next few days. (Read: I'm going to go shopping in my basement and feel like I bought new clothes.)

Although this week was in a lot of ways exactly what I needed, I'm still dealing with anxiety. I'm still figuring life out, and jumping on a plane back to Bolivia seems agreeable to me most days. But I'm beginning to discover my purpose here and I'm hopeful for what this next season brings. I'm finding prayer and yoga and writing to center me, and I'm grateful they're reducing my anxiety. I'm also extremely thankful for the friends from high school and college around me now, and my parents who provide me with free housing and food and do things for me like make me iced coffee in the morning. Really, I've got it good.

Thanks for supporting me, friends and fam. Let me know how I can support you.

Palms Up

I need to quiet my mind for my sanity. I need to quiet my mind to regain my joy—joy that comes from the Spirit within me, from communion with the Lord—not from circumstances. I need to quiet my mind so I begin to view myself and my life through the eyes of God—to regain my sight. So that I may be at peace with myself and the things I'm choosing to do here, in the suburbs and in the city of Chicago.

This transition back to life here has been weird and difficult and well, just basically a rollercoaster. I don't know if I've ever been so emotional.

I have questioned multiple times in every day I've been back if choosing to come back to Downers Grove was the right thing for me. I've almost applied to jobs in other states; I've considered going back to Bolivia every single day; I've been restless and sleepless and stressed; I've felt like I'm going backwards; I've had several fits of crying; I've felt confused and worthless and a bit like I've lost my identity, which shows how warped my mind has been in thinking that being an expat in Bolivia was so much of who I was.

I'm coming back down to earth and steadiness and becoming more okay with myself and where I'm at, even with a younger brother getting married and moving to Arizona. It's been hard and weird and I've cursed about life in prayers a lot—which I think is the only thing you can do sometimes. It's a slow process, but I'm beginning to enter into a stage of acceptance of my life, I think. I have my eyes more set on here and what I can do around here, on relationships I can build. However, it's going to take a long time to find my place in these suburbs of Chicago. It's familiar, yet so foreign to be planting myself here, especially as I see and hear news and pictures of friends and new teachers' journeys and beginnings back in La Paz.

My anticipated job(s), community, classes, and how my life will play out in the coming months is all so unknown, and I've never been in this place before. I've never had so little sight of my future circumstances; I feel like I'm blindfolded, stretching out my hands and sometimes touching things that I can make sense of, but unsure of where I'm walking and where the path leads.

I know I have to trust God, but sometimes I feel like I don't know how.

I just finished the book "Love Does" by Bob Goff, and he mentions that as a lawyer, he has his clients testify with their hands resting on their knees with their palms up. He says something along the lines of physically having your palms up helps people be more honest, more humble and open, and less angry and stressed and prideful. I've been trying to put my hands in that posture more. In yoga class today I realized we kind of automatically do that in our ending resting pose lying sprawled out on the floor. To completely relax your body, your arms and hands naturally move upwards. When I'm in that position, I feel kind of vulnerable, in a good way. Like, even if I'm not mentally praying and asking for help and guidance and strength and joy and all of those things I want, the posture of my body kind of begs for it—if that makes any sense. Mentally, I'm still all over the place, but maybe the posture of my body will help my mind catch up to this desperate need to surrender.

Next week, kind of as a birthday present from my parents, they're renting the cottage we normally go to on family vacation just for me…my parents took their vacation days to come visit me in Bolivia, Danny's on his honeymoon in Cancun and then will be back in Arizona, and soccer is starting up again at Northern Illinois for Paul. I have high hopes this will be exactly what I need to process and come back to Jesus and my identity as His beloved and not who I am in the eyes of friends or employers, or who I am in the context of a place or a job or a group of people.

I need to meditate on His incredible faithfulness in my life, on the fact that He is enough, and therefore I am enough in His sight. And on this: Even if my own sight is blurred, He'll lead me where I'm supposed to go.

Next week's agenda:  I will quiet my mind, palms up. 

trees are lovely but they make me sneeze

climbing trees like we did when we were children 
scaling walls; the walls that took us years to build 

climbing trees; haven't much since we were children 
shaking limbs tend to end up bent and broken 
safe inside the walls we built, we found ourselves a home 

higher branches, harder fall 
hesitation stops us all 

oh, you'll never know 

climbing trees; haven't much since we were children 
shaking limbs tend to end up bent and broken 
but heartache pales in comparison to love

This song, "Trees" comes from a new-ish band out of Texas called "The Oh Hello's", and I am in love with them--even more now after seeing them in concert Sunday night. Their sound is similar to "Of Monsters and Men," and their lyrics are simple but beautiful. I keep listening to this particular song over and over again. It's musically catchy while being lyrically inspiring, and it seems to be my anthem right now, as I am in transition and having a bit of a hard time with it.

First, some background if you have not heard: I returned to Chicagoland on Wednesday after completing my second year of teaching in La Paz, Bolivia and staying a little over a month extra to visit with family, take 3 weeks of Spanish lessons 4 hours a day, hang out with friends, and host a bunch of strangers from England who are now friends.

And so, now begins the next phase of my life which right now seems completely unknown, scary, and daunting. I know I'm supposed to enjoy vacation and all of the weddings, receptions, concerts, trips, etc. that I have planned in the next couple months, but it's taken a bit of effort to enjoy life these last 5 days stateside, even though my circumstances have been great--albeit my head exploding from allergies. 

This lack of whole-hearted enjoyment I know is due to stress and worry. Never before in my life have I not had a clear plan ahead of me; I have always had a previously set time of vacation before full-time work or classes began again. And other than my plan to start two night classes in mid-September, I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing here...

And yet, I felt the call back; I feel like I'm here for something. I know there are higher branches I need to climb, even in this sleepy, familiar town. I've already hesitated too many times in the last 5 days, thinking, "How am I going to grow here? What higher branches can I climb?" But I'm realizing I don't need to go overseas again or even to another city in order to grow, to climb higher, to step out on the shaky limbs, to scale the walls that I've built. Downers Grove is full of trees....

So, why the title "Higher Branches, Deeper Roots"? Well, as I said, I am aiming to reach for higher branches still and climb without hesitation and fear, and the "deeper roots" part comes from one of my favorite passages of scripture, in Jeremiah. 

"But blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their hope and confidence. They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit." -Jeremiah 17:7-8

While I love the imagery of climbing higher branches, I also love pretending I AM a tree planted next to a river, with roots reaching down to the source of sustaining life so more fruit can grow.

I want to climb higher, I want to stretch lower--to my source, my God. Because He is my life and He is my hope. And I'm thankful for His voice of guidance whispering, "Don't climb that branch, climb THAT higher one!" I was very close to having a nannying job the other day, but I knew my heart wasn't in it. And so I gave up job security to listen to a still small voice say "I know better, so please trust me."

And I'm hearing Him say now, "This writing thing EXCITES you, so do it more! My gift to you right now is TIME." 

So, reaching but rooted I stand; No hesitations.