21 April 2014

life and death and hawaii (the long version)

over the last few years, i've felt this quiet but consistent nudging about hawaii...
hawaiian bumper stickers...hawaiian license plates...shirts from hawaii...808 everywhere.

it was so out of the blue and so frequent that i started praying about it: should i go to hawaii?
i felt like i should. i don't recall if i had a date in mind at first, but i know that over time there were a few dates that went through my head, "go on this day." and i'd think about it, and think no...such and such is happening then, or that's right before _______.

after a few of these excuse parties, the whole hawaii thing quieted down for a bit. but it wasn't the peaceful kind of quiet...it was like the quiet that follows the pestering of a small child, who finally relents and leaves the room: you become suspicious of the quiet the moment you notice it.

so i said to God, "if you still want me to go to hawaii, bring it up again, pester me again, and give me a date."

so there it was, october 17th. the open invitation, with no stipulations....not even a particular island.
so i finally made the move, requested the time off, bought the ticket, reserved a room at ywam kona, took a deep breath, and went to hawaii.

i was nervous. nervous that nothing would happen, that it would all end up looking ridiculous, like a waste of time and money, like a person who wanted time off and so claimed that "God said to go to hawaii." i was nervous that i might meet someone i wanted to marry. i was nervous that i might not meet someone i wanted to marry. i was nervous that i would be too nervous to quiet down and hear God. i was nervous that i WOULD hear him and that what he said would be too much!

o me of little faith...

on the third day i finally sat quietly before the Lord, on my knees in my room.

these times are precious...
they drip with gold, and i understand what it means to sing, 
"Your name is like honey on my lips, your Spirit like water to my soul..."
these times are terrifying...
when your mind is quiet and your heart is trusting and you really allow God to say whatever he wants...
he says whatever he wants. 
and, in my experience, he often trusts us with
more than we'd like to be responsible for. 
like being entrusted with a secret, a piece of someone's deepest truest self,
and immediately feeling unable to bear it. 

in these times he has shown me the weight of his sacrifice for me
he has asked what i will offer in return
he has invited me to move across the earth
he has shown me the depths of his heart for a nation
he has asked me to lay down everything i wanted
he has shown me that his love does not always look how i want it to
that he trusts me more than i wish to be trusted
that he will be my refuge, and that means leaving every other shanty behind
he has asked me to live my life for his glory, and not my comfort

and now, in hawaii,
with humidity hugging me and warm sun shining outside my window,
he spoke to me of death.

"death to rights or self or something?" a friend asked.
"no, that's the thing, just death. death itself." i replied nervously.

it's funny, looking back, that everything the Lord had said up until that point, every verse, every piece from books i was reading that had stood out, all of it was so reassuring.
rest in the Lord
wait on the Lord
trust in the Lord
commit your way to the Lord, and he will do it
blessed is the one who takes refuge in the Lord
all the paths of the Lord are lovingkindness
so very affirming that God is in control, that he will do what he needs to when he needs to, and that my only job is to fix my eyes on him, and allow my heart and spirit to rest in him. relax into him. like floating on water. 

and yet here he speaks something i am uncertain about, and my immediate response is "what? what do you mean? what does that mean? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"

i waited and hoped for an area of sin, or the unveiling of something that needs to be surrendered. death to _______ (insert something that needs to die metaphorically).
nothing. 
death itself. that was all that hung. 

the songs playing, the pieces of scripture that i felt to read, it all centred on this idea of surrendering life, actual life, back to the giver of life. 
take the world, but give me Jesus...
though there are many things on earth that i hope for, would i lay it all down to find my satisfaction in him alone?
be Jesus my glory, my soul satisfied...

if i was told i would soon die, would i fight desperately for more of life, like hezekiah? or would i pray as Christ, "if it possible, may this cup be taken from me. yet not as i will, but as you will."?

so i said yes. a little stunned, a lot uncertain, but yes. yes of course. 
Lord, to whom shall we go?
it took me off-guard, and i didn't know where to go from there...so i went about my day.


everything i had been contemplating, about the preparation of a bride and the giving back "the life i owe, that in Thine ocean depths its flow may richer fuller be"...everything now seemed to meld into this theme of death. real, actual, death. 
all of these things i had read before, songs i had sung before, things that had brought hope, and yes surrender, but surrender of life, all of it seemed now to speak of death. 

it is true, of course, that lasting life only comes through death, that nothing can be resurrected for eternity which has not first been laid down unto death...that we are to bear our crosses and follow Christ's example of surrender.
but we in western christianity read that as giving money, living without internet, fasting for lent...ending a relationship.
we see it as the giving up of comforts we've come to expect, and rarely consider the possibility of giving up our lives for the call of Christ. we may use the phrase, but i think its weight eludes us.

before i had read these truths with a certain amount of arrogance...
one thing i have asked from the Lord, that i shall seek:
that i may dwell in the house of the Lord

behold, Thou hast made my days as handbreadths,
and my lifetime as nothing in Thy sight,
surely every man at his best is a mere breath
sure...but
  the Lord is the defense of my life; whom shall i dread?

right?

now i read them with trembling, reverence, and a slowly increasing fear...what exactly is God saying?


at a certain point, after pages and pages of lyrics from my shuffling ipod and verses that came one after another, of thoughts and fears and questions and prayers, moments of bold declarations, lapses into fearful pleas...there came a quietness. i did not at all feel resolved, but my time certainly felt over. and worship was about to start, which i knew was an absolute necessity.
worship time, every song, was all about surrender. thanks for nothing, worship.

that afternoon i picked up my henri nouwen book, life of the beloved, which was nearing the end.
henri was discussing his thoughts on death. thanks, henri.
it was actually incredibly encouraging, and made me really, strangely, excited about the prospect of death...that it was our final becoming, transformed into his likeness, made our truest selves...

"...dying is the greatest act of love,
the act that leads me into the eternal embrace of my God
where love is everlasting."


the next day, themes of death did not abate as i had hoped they would...feeling that maybe all i needed was to understand that death is our glorious new life, etc, etc, and that would be that. 
it wasn't.
i wrote heartfelt notes to people who mean the world to me, i prayed for every person and place on my heart, not wanting to miss my chances here, on this planet, able to speak life. 
i fought hard to gain a heroic and mature outlook on death, wanting so much to gladly surrender. 
it took me hours to fall asleep that night.

i woke up the next morning.
i was a little surprised. no death...alright, one more day.
i read things and got coffee and tried to quiet my mind and listen to whatever the Lord would say...tried to make sure that my fearful mind wasn't just going to bring up death again and get stuck there. 
it worked for a while, but not for terribly long. 
as night approached, i realized i couldn't do it again, lay in bed for hours and wonder if i would wake up the next morning, wondering who would tell my parents, my friends...

i hadn't talked to anyone about my ponderings of mortality, i was sort of waiting for someone a little bit neutral to process it with...someone who wouldn't really mind if i died...who wouldn't be heartbroken and therefore could listen to me and speak without much bias. 
it was nearly time for bed, and i had not found that neutral person. so i called one of my dearest friends, one who was least likely to speak out of fear and most likely to help me listen to God no matter how shocking such a phone call might be. i also sent a text to a few others, asking for prayers for peace. 

my dearest friend listened as i cried out all of my fears...and i waited for her to say "i think the Lord is saying ________(insert less intense thing, or death metaphor, or comforting thing)." 
she did not fill in the blank how i had hoped. she confirmed everything. she said yep, that's right, we have to be completely prepared to lay down our lives. our lives. not just our "lives". she said she planned her funeral at 15, when she first felt the Lord call her to missions. 
and she prayed for peace. so at least she said one thing i wanted her to.

we hung up and i got on the floor, on my face, and cried, and surrendered my life. 
i told God to have his way, i told him he knows best, that i want what's best for his kingdom, and that if what's best for his kingdom is holly lewis being in heaven rather than on earth, then who am i to stand in the way. all of my pleas for the great things i wanted to accomplish, for the people i wanted to save, for the revolutions i wanted to be part of, i hushed all of them.

i give you back the life i owe
that in Thine ocean depths its flow may
richer, fuller be.
...my life is not my own, i know, it's yours...

i asked for help to surrender, help to live in the present moment and trust him with every future moment. i declared him Lord, over and over again. i cried.

in Thy book there were all written,
the days that were ordained for me...



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