Taylor Swift

I'm almost ashamed to admit that I don't mind Taylor Swift's music. It's catchy, not gross, cute.

But that's not what I'm about to talk about.

I'm about to tell you a Love Story (hence the Taylor Swift reference).

And surprisingly, this Love Story involves me. But it's not centered on me.

It's about God, His Spirit, and His powerful heart.

But it's not the gospel, per se.

Well, hmmm...where to begin...
The beginning! Yes, that's where.
I had a dream (not like Martin Luther King Jr.).

In this dream, me and a guy I've known for nigh on 3 years were sitting in the Vines Center waiting for the rest of our friends with house church to get there. Now, I have no romantic feelings toward this guy at all. AT ALL. In fact, I often feel like I'm with a puppy that hasn't been house trained when I'm around him.
Well, in this dream we were sitting right by each other, and I leaned my head over onto his shoulder and reached down and grabbed his hand. We looked at each other, with very confused but happy faces, and then I woke up.
My first reaction: What the heck!?!?! Where did THAT come from? Then I just dismissed it and went back to sleep. The dream was unusually clear, and it was both logical and I remembered it. Usually those dreams that I remember aren't logical. I should have guessed that something was up.

But I didn't and went about my business. Until a couple of days later when I was praying. God kept bringing the dream and the boy up during prayer. I was VERY confused and asked God repeatedly what He meant by it. I didn't get a conclusive answer, but I had my house church and a few friends pray about it.
In my mind, I figured God meant to say one of two things. Either: #1-This WILL happen so...get used to it or, #2-I've been teaching you about surrender. If I asked you to do that, even though you desperately don't want to, would you? I know that your romantic life is something you hold dearly close to you...
I've come to this conclusion: God was saying, "I'm asking you to do this, to actively surrender this HUGE thing to me, but I want you to know that I am not forcing you to do it. I want you to willingly give up this part of your life to me. Let me write this story. Trust me. Trust that it will end up for good."
To which I said, "But God, I don't see him like that. I don't trust him with me or my heart. How can I do that?!? If you want me to do this, I will. But I need You to change my heart toward him, and help him to mature. I don't want to feel like I have to take care of him or be embarrassed by him."
I prayed this repeatedly. REPEATEDLY.

Recently he came to visit for a weekend and came to house church. I was praying exactly what Jesus was in the Garden, pleading with God that if there was any other way in which He could be glorified just as much that He'd have me do that instead. Fervently I prayed this. To my memory more fervently than I've ever prayed anything. And nothing happened that night. But I could sense God saying, "Hey, there are other ways to accomplish what I want to accomplish. But this is a really great lesson for you. Stick it out with me for a bit more."

Dang it.
So I kept praying. and praying. and wanting to run away and telling God to leave me alone. and apologizing and asking Him to come back. and feeling silly because I knew He had never left.

I prayed for clarity. God told me to wait. and wait. and wait.
And He gave me this verse: Isaiah 54:4 "Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood."

Dang it. Again.
I prayed for clarity and for courage. God told me to wait. and wait. and wait.
And He has given me eyes to see. A heart of courage.
And a heart of understanding how glory could come of this.
And that SCARES me. Oh man, this is the point where I go back and forth between trust and...not trust, between surrendering and holding on.

As of right now, it is my conviction that what I have just described was a large growth session with Jesus. He wanted me to know that He's got me, to trust Him no matter what He asks me to do. And for me to see that I would (eventually) live out my belief in this and do what He asked. And for me to see that He can change my heart about people and situations. That the Spirit really can empower me to do anything. 

Whoa. That's one heck of a story, and it hasn't even settled in my mind yet that it happened to me.

I love stories.

Lakia.

Remember my last post?
Yeah well, it's not far from here so get familiar.

This happened today at my internship:
(me sitting in the classroom with 13 year old Lakia, helping her with homework)
::the beginning of the normal phase of random questions::
-Lakia-"You got a boyfrien' Staysee?"
-Stacy-"Nah, Lakia, I don't."
-L-"You gon' git marrie' one day?"
-S-"Maybe. Don't know yet."
-L-"You shou'. You too pretty ta not have a boyfrien' uh husban' one day."
-S-"Awww. Thanks Lakia. That really means a lot to me."
(and it did).
-L-"Miz Staysee, can I come to yo' weddin'?"
-S-"Lakia, if I get married, and if I can find you, you have a definite invite to my wedding."
-L-"You know my las' name?"
-S-"Yup. Mull."
-L-"Alright now. Don' forget."
-S-"I won't Lakia. I'll remember."
(and I will).

Thank you Lakia.
And you, Jesus. 

Mirrors

When I live in a house that's not my mom's or a dorm or the Cliffs I don't think I'm going to have mirrors in it.

Or maybe just one. With limited, morning-time viewing time. Then it'll be covered up.

This might just be something girls do. But that I am, so this I do:
I'll spend my day (some days) feeling pretty good about myself and how I look. I feel confident, healthy.
Good. (a word that is now cheapened. we'll talk about that later)
But then. 
I'll walk into a bathroom, or past a window, or need to go through a glass door (even though I'm not green.)
And I'll see my reflection. I'll see me. Instead of my idea of me. 
And most days, that confidence, healthiness, goodness evaporates.
I think "Man, I don't remember me lookin' like that." And sigh. 

So, I will not have excessive mirrors in my house in an effort to avoid those times.

Because it is much easier to deal with that than to deal with learning how beautiful I am to God.
Than learning how my heart's beauty matters much more than my body's beauty.

(this one is hard because my heart doesn't feel too beautiful sometimes)