This past Sunday, as I was praying in one of those sorts of prayers that is essentially "thinking in His presence", I was expressing my desires to serve the Lord more and my present state of less than abundant resources. But are we not, I thought, always in a state of lack? Will a day without the urgent ever come? Will a discipleship relationship with a young woman ever just "fall into place"? Will a commitment to pour myself out as an offering ever exist that doesn't call for some kind of sacrifice? Does God only take pleasure in numbers? Is He only impressed when I give Him big things? Surely God calls us to give in our lack, to serve out of our feebleness and last ounce of flour. Negative space will follow us for the rest of our lives. The question is: what will we do with what we have already been given? Of course, sometimes I believe there is a time when we are not to give in some way, to wait in good time and trust in the Lord. But when He tells us to begin pouring from the basin of our lives, our part is to give every last drop for Jesus. Don't spend time calculating your smallness, spend time giving yourself anyway. Do not hoard your pennies, if that is all that you have. May Jesus grant us the grace to give extravagantly out of our barren state.

 And He sat down opposite the treasury, and began observing how the people were putting money into the treasury; and many rich people were putting in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which amount to a cent. Calling His disciples to Him, He said to them, “Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the contributors to the treasury; for they all put in out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had to live on.”

-Mark 12:41-44

O come, O come, Emmanuel

                                                          And ransom captive Israel

                                                     That mourns in lonely exile here

                                                       Until the Son of God appear

                                                       Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

                                                       Shall come to thee, O Israel.

We are all perpetual Messiah seekers. For some of us, it is the seeking of His presence in the final climax, to share in that bread and wine with Him and see Him as He is. For others, it is that first glance, that first brush of His robe, that skin-to-skin contact that awakens them to Love and Life. For still some others, which belong to the first party, the groaning extends beyond our own existence. It stretches over families, it stretches over cities, it stretches over continents and cultures. Some of our carry-on belongings are borrowed bags with loved ones' names on them. Messiah, come! We pray. Emmanuel, come! Not just for us. For them. 

2 Peter 3:9 has become one of my favorite verses to praise God with in this mourning for others. "The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance." What does this mean? Every day is a gift of mercy. Every day is the Lord giving room and time and grace for more sinners to repent and come to life, for Heaven's Hallelujah to sing a little louder. 

Are you, like Israel, looking for a Messiah full of grace and truth? Call upon the man named Jesus, and sit at His feet and listen. Are you, a child of God, not only longing for the pervading presence of the Messiah in your own life, but for Him to enter the lives of others? Cling to the hope that each day passing is an opportunity for hope, an opportunity to love them more deeply and truly and to stand in the gap in prayer for them. The Messiah is God with us. The Messiah is God for us.

We all live in constant states of limitation. I've been twenty-three years old for 6 months, and I keep forgetting that I'm older than twenty-two. It's a little disturbing to forget how old you are and to realize that you've forgotten. Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one--these were landmarks, but after twenty-one, who's counting? Of course there are our "coming of age" dreams--perhaps twenty-four is a "stable" job, twenty-five is marriage, twenty-six is children. We scribble out our roadmaps and smile with squinty eyes at the only square-inch of road we can make out in front of us under the blazing sun. Man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. For those who belong to Him, this is good news.

In May I wore one of those funny square hats and long boxy gowns. I shook the hands of others who wore even puffy-er dresses and plumpy-er hats--those whom I loved, loved even to the point where it hurt. Months later, I received the sheet of paper with my name on it, lying in the company of curly signatures and cursive fonts. It looked pretty, pompous and important. Chapter 22 came to a close, and Part II had begun.

I stand in the middle of 23, and my eyes are all squinty. They say that if I hold them half-closed for too long they'll stay that way, but I keep hoping I will be able to make some shapes out of these landscapes if I stare hard enough.

I find myself in a constant state of joy and sorrow. I don't find myself in the generalities, I find myself in the multifaceted world of real life. If someone asks me how I am doing, my answer will never be wholly true, and I may just say "good" because giving a true-r answer would just be too much to unload. I expect that this is the way it is for us all.
Right now, in the midst of a thousand complexities, I find the old dream of marriage stirring these slowly yellowing pages. The equal presence of joy and sorrow is so evident in this. There is such a sweetness in relishing the gift given to you, taking it up to your lips and inhaling this sweet truth: "The woman who is unmarried, and the virgin, is concerned about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and spirit; but the one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how she may please her husband. This I say...to secure undistracted devotion to the Lord." How sweet is it to use the freedom of singleness to serve? How precious is it to use our abundant resources not for the selfish desires of our flesh, but for the pouring out unto others? Few have this gift and opportunity. Few are able to serve Jesus so recklessly in such a boundless sphere. I have been learning to frolic in this meadow, to wave my arms more and more freely in a dance of worship within these boundaries He's placed me in.

The sorrow, however, teaches me I am not Home yet. I have sin. I live in a world broken by sin. Loneliness is real. I believe that loneliness can be present in marriage, but I also wonder if there isn't a loneliness that you forget after you've been married for awhile. Every season holds its own difficulties and celebrations, and we forget those of the last season so that it's hard to compare.

Recently, in those half-sober moments of sleep, I decided I should write a list of pros and cons about marriage and singleness. Somehow it sounded very rational and reasonable to make a list, and I later ended up scribbling some thoughts down. I thought that it might give me some insight, perhaps helping me discern what God's best looks like for me. What did I find? Both marriage and singleness are good. Both are sanctifying. Both are difficult and painful. Both can be gospel-proclaiming and pleasing to God. Both are tainted by sin, both are teeming with temptations and potential lies. Both are circumstances, and neither will give my heart full satisfaction. Neither will give me what I need:

 "Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."


Every choice has its freedoms and limitations. Every circumstance has its boundary lines. Laughter and sobs will mingle until the day He wipes every tear from our eyes. But the joy of knowing Him is expressed in the context of every stepping stone of my life. He knows what kind of life circumstances will most glorify Himself in this moment, and this sets me free from hopelessly aching for marriage in singleness and singleness in marriage.

I can be content, whatever the circumstances, for the Lord Himself is my portion.

The Lord is my shepherd.
I shall not want.