The Shirt I Wear Inside Out

Hello long-lost Blogging audience,

Tonight I can't sleep and I started writing this blog in my head so I decided to come back from the blogging world dead and write it out for people to actually read.

A few summers ago, I got a hand-me down shirt from a dear friend. I liked that it was black, I needed a black t-shirt. It was super comfy. It fit me well which is always a win so I decided to keep it. The only thing was that it proudly read across the front, "Everything boys do, girls can do better." At least, I think that's what it says. I don't agree with that on a couple different levels, the first one being that it's prideful to boast and I don't need any help being proud. My mom fixed my problem by suggesting I keep the shirt but wear it inside out. I can't remember exactly what the shirt says it has been so long since I saw it right side out.
Why am I writing about this tonight?
Tonight was the world premier of the Disney Channel Original movie, "The Teen Beach Movie." One of the lines that was said several times through out the movie by the main girl was, "Girls can do anything boys can." Now, in her case she was talking about surfing in the 1960's, but every time they said it I cringed because that's a message that has been shouted at girls since before I was born and it's a lie.
Before you think I don't believe woman can do anything except stay in the kitchen and have babies and  that they shouldn't work outside the home or be pastors or leaders in any way, please know that that's not true. Believe me, I grew up with someone close to me believing that and it hindered me a lot until I realized he was wrong. Yes, women can have jobs and work along side men but not simply because they want to be better than men. If God wanted us all to be like men, or better than men, He would have made us all men. There would be no women. He had the chance to keep the entire population of the world made up of males who were made in His image. But something was missing, so He made women after His own image. Together, we create something good. Men and women.
I understand that we get hurt by men. We get shoved down, talked down, put down and looked down on and that's not right. But we need men in this world. Not to be better than them, but to work along side of them. And the best thing is, men are great at certain things and women are great at others. It takes a very special kind of man to handle a screaming baby. But hand him to a woman, there's a natural instinct to mother and nurture the little one. Then there comes a day when that baby is older and the voice of a father speaking life, destiny, direction and encouragement will make all the difference in whether that boy finishes high school or that little girl keeps her virginity.

We need fathers. We need husbands. We need sons. And we need to know that together we made something that was "not good" into something that was good. That good thing happens when men are confident in who they are as men made in the image of God and women are confident of who they are as women made in the image of God.
Part of being a woman who is confident is knowing her worth. She knows she's worth more than being with a guy who constantly disrespects her or only uses her as an object. She knows she can accept the honor and attention of a man graciously and respond in purity. She knows she can work hard and work long and lay herself down for the good of others without losing who she is or giving up the dreams God has put into her heart. She carries the fragile yet strong feminine heart and blesses the men in her life for carrying inside of them the brave yet tender masculine heart, both made in the image of God.

And that's why I wear my shirt inside out.
Love,
Me

"A lack of joy in worship is pride and unbelief in your life." Laura Hackett

Dear Blog Audience,

As a leader of a worship team semester, I am I learning all sorts of things that I never realized a worship leader had to deal with. Some things have been easy and learned so quickly they were hardly an issue (like using the talk back and playing at the same time, staying on the click, and falling in love with my team.). Other things have been harder to learn. There have been days when I've been tired and struggling to come up with choruses or staying on tune or remembering to direct the other musicians on the team and get the best feel for the song. There have been days when I've been ready to lead, so excited to play and sing for Jesus and take my team with me as we sing the word or intercede. It's been such a positive experience for me and I am thankful for my school giving me a safe environment to learn worship leading skills in. Even if I do mess up, I'm not freaking out because there is a room full of people or because I'm leading a church service. It's just a bunch of students and a coach that is there to help us learn from our "train wrecks" as we call them. Not everyone gets this type of safety as they lead a team of people musically and spiritually.
The biggest place of warfare that I've had since I started leading worship, however, hasn't been with my team mates or with the music. It has been with my mind. My thoughts. My heart. My emotions. I've been struggling to keep my thoughts humble and encouraging. I have always been quick to judge things and I have prayed long and hard that I would be quick to love like Jesus, not take what my eyes see and turn that into my perception of that person or situation. I haven't always been satisfied with my leadership abilities, or my voice or my piano playing. I compare myself mercilessly and sometimes it's out of a prideful, "I can do this better" spirit and sometimes its out of a, "I might as well quit, I'm the worst person on the team" spirit. Back and forth, up and down, in and out my thoughts have gone literally EVERYWHERE since this semester started. I'd think something and then instantly reprimand myself for thinking it. It was about clothes and music and voice and choruses and situations and home life and a bajillion more things. As you can probably tell by now, it was a huge battle for me.
On Tuesdays, we have chapel for the music school. One of my favorite worship leaders, Laura Hackett, spoke to us and most of what she talked about was her own struggle as she became a worship leader and she hit on the thought life of a prophetic musician/singer.

"When you have those thoughts, you just have to repent and keep going because your attitude and unrepentant heart could keep your entire team from going someplace with God." 

That was the gist of what hit me. I could relate with almost everything she said and her words of wisdom to just repent and move on was exactly what I needed to hear. The next day I was leading so I started debrief off with an apology as their worship leader of letting thoughts of jealousy and pride and disunity hold me back and affect our team. They all nodded and said, "Yeah, us too!" and that set was the best set I've ever led. I felt the Spirit so strong and it was a joy to lead my team to partner with God. I think what we were really feeling was freedom and joy. It was awesome.
I know I have a long way to go as a worship leader but I am thankful for all the lessons I am learning along the way. I'm not going to ever have a perfect set or a perfect team but I will have sets and teams that are someone and help me grow in love. And that is exactly what I want!

Love,
Me

I love being me

Dear Blog Audience,

As someone who used to struggle with self-hatred I cannot tell you how absolutely freeing it is to dress up and get all pretty and really believe that I am beautiful. I didn't look in the mirror and think, "I wish I was skinnier or taller or tanner or had straighter and whiter teeth...." I looked in the mirror and said, "Wow, God! Look at me! I feel beautiful!"
I love that I have freedom in rejoicing in my femininity. I don't have to get dressed up and have someone do my hair with a thousand bobby-pins but neither do I have to kick-it in my jeans and converse all the time to feel beautiful and comfortable. My skin is my skin and God loves to watch me twirl around in front of the mirror and feel confident. Yes, I did agonize over what I was going to wear and did wonder if the other girls were going to like it but in the end, I decided I didn't have to worry about that. I looked beautiful and I felt comfortable and modest. Me feeling beautiful didn't depend on what the other girls were wearing or whether I was 100% happy with my choice of clothes. It depended on if I listened to that whisper on the inside that said, "I made you. I delight in you. I say you are beautiful. That's all that matters."
When I went to check my make-up in the mirror, I smiled and was drawn to the crinkles around my eyes. I like them. I looked so happy. Yes, my make-up looked awesome, but I loved the joy that I saw. That made me feel beautiful.
The reason why I was all dressed up and primped out was because the sophomore guys of IHOPU were giving the sophomore girls of IHOPU a special luncheon to honor us as their classmates. Usually me in a room full of beautiful young ladies that are dolled up and dressed to the nine's would have me comparing everyone and everything. I'd be calculating everything that they didn't compliment me on and wonder why they didn't. But not today. I walked in and immediately had several girls all say, "Baylea, you look beautiful!" and I believed them. They were gorgeous and had such cute dresses and earrings and were all glowing and I could say back, "You look beautiful too!" I meant it and felt joy in saying it to them! If I had not felt beautiful, I would have sucked in all of their compliments and not handed them out because of insecurity. What a wonderful gift to be free of the insecurities. Not only did I feel honored by the guys, but I felt honored by the girls too in how they complimented me truly and were confident in their own beauty.
What a gift to be free to enjoy the skin God gave me. To look at my hands and feet and stomach and face and thank God for them! It's been a journey because I don't look like what I was told beautiful was. But beauty isn't what I see. I can't define it. I don't even know what True Beauty looks like. But I know that loving how God made me makes me feel like the coolest person in the world no matter what I'm wearing or what anybody says to me. God's heart for me and for my generation is not to despise our bodies and how we look. He made us to be comfortable with our arms and legs and front sides and back sides and use them to glorify Him. Just loving our bodies in a healthy way is an act of worship and is a way of thanking Him.

Love,
Me

I'm just used to it

Dear Blogging Audience,

This is my fourth attempt of starting this blog. The other starts were wonderful and were full of exactly what I was trying to say except... Not really. See, what I'm trying to convey is the feeling of tension I have right now. I still don't know how to write about it.

Do you know how hard it is to be faced with how empty your heart really is when you had just reached a point where you were getting used to things? I've gotten used to living in America around monolingual people who love their monocultural lives. I've gotten used to not having time to keep in touch with my best friends. I've gotten used to be so isolated from my past because I have no one to remember with or talk with. People look at the pictures on my bedroom wall and get overwhelmed as I rattle off who is who and why I love them so much. Two minutes later they're moving onto a new subject and I'm just getting started with talking about how precious those people and places are to me. I don't like the feeling of showing someone the most beautiful thing I can think of sharing with them and them not seeing it as beautiful. It stings. So I have gotten used to just sharing the bare minimum. And I've been okay with that. But was I really okay with it, or did I just get used to it? Was I really as restored and my heart as healed as I thought it was or was I simply numb to my underlying emotions? And this is where I feel the tension. I am still in pain over leaving but I am also at a healthy place of moving on. Don't ask me to explain this. The best way I can is me, sitting on my bed, reading my old journal from March of 2010, crying because I can still feel that same emptiness and because I'm so grateful for where God has brought me since then. The tears were most definitely because I was grieving and they were most definitely because I was so thankful. This is my life. This is my tension.
This month marks 2 years since we left. That plus seeing Krista has opened my eyes to the fact that I'm not as over it as I thought I was. I didn't feel this tension just a few weeks ago. I had a pang of homesickness every once in a while but not like this. Not the constant tug-of-war. I could look at the hundreds of pictures I have from Morocco and not feel anything and when I did start to feel something, I would just turn it off. Part of the cut-off in communication was me preserving my last bit of sanity. I couldn't say, "I miss you" anymore. I just couldn't handle it. So was I really fully processing my emotions or was I just used to the numbness? I think it's both.

Some things are good things to get used to. Like being a big sister, eating healthy food, journaling... They are all aspects of my life that I'm used to. That I'm comfortable with. It would be strange for me to go home and see that my mom had gotten us McDonald's for lunch or for me to just stop writing in my journal every day or if suddenly my little brothers weren't a part of my life. But I don't really think about those things, they just are. I've gotten used to them and that's fine. It is my life and part of life is having certain things that are so much a part of you, you don't have to think about it. You just live accordingly.

Other things I don't think I should be used to. Like pain.  Not just emotional pain but pain from the Arthritis too. Most days I don't even notice it because I'm so used to it. But is that what it should be like? It has been 20 years so I was 1st diagnosed and I remember laying on the examining table with the doctor making silly sound effects for me as he moved my joints. When he was done I went out into the waiting room and looked into the fish tanks at the  hundreds of fish. This might be my earliest memory of my life. That was the day the doctors told my parents what was wrong with me. I don't know how I know that because I wasn't in the room when he told them but I just remember that day being the day we found out. That doctors visit has shaped my life every day since then and I've had to come up with ways to do the same things as everyone else does without thinking. I've grown used to my limitations over the course of my life, how could I not be be used to it? But I wasn't made to live in pain with body parts that don't work and constantly worrying about whether I can do something or not. I don't want to be used to this disease, I want to be used to expecting God to heal me at any moment.

And this is my tension. Being used to things. Becoming unused to things again. This is what it means to live as a stranger on the earth, waiting for Jesus to come back and make all things new. Hallelujah. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Love,
Me

Thoughts spilling over

Dear Blogging Audience,

I'm not sure what thoughts will spill out onto this blog today, but I do know that right now, my heart feels very tender for many reasons.

In small group today, we all cried because one of us began sharing her heart and laid her struggles out before us. Her words of feeling like the wait for breakthrough would never end echoed in my own heart and I felt her pain. I'm still waiting for healing. I'm still waiting for the wrong things in my body to be made right. I'm still waiting for the day when I can testify that Jesus is greater than any sickness or disease. But beyond what she said, it was how she said it that made more sense. Her raw emotions and real feelings stirred me. I long for that expression of honest emotion in my own life in every season. Joy, strength, love, tears, brokenness, leaning... I want to be honest with how I feel and feel emotions.

The last couple weeks have been strange for me. I feel so close to God and yet I feel like everywhere I turn, someone is telling me this that or the other thing that I have to do, think or feel to really know Jesus. I've learned awesome things through it but at the same time I have to remember that when it comes to the end of the day, Jesus loves me no matter what I do or say. After one such talk with someone about "XYZ", I left the conversation thinking, "This is good, this is true, but... Just because I didn't know this before doesn't mean that I wasn't really a Christian. I still loved Jesus. I still had fellowship with the Holy Spirit. I was still loved and desired by God."
This is something I've had to remember a lot in the last few weeks. My heart has been wrestling with things because I really want to know truth. I really want to have more knowledge of Jesus and grow in my walk with Him. But at the same time, He's looking at my heart, not my head knowledge. It's the sincerity in my heart that matters to Him, not my maturity. Maturity comes with time and seasons and my current season is bringing maturity. But it's also making me cling to the truth that God delights in my journey, not just the end result of me knowing blah blah blah. He's so involved with every bit of truth I process, He sees my wrestling and hears my prayers for right understanding and He is answering those prayers. The posture of my heart is what He's looking at. Am I holding my heart with humility and desiring to know more about Him? When all this comes to an end, I'm sure I'll look back and see how every bit of knowledge I tried to retain shaping me to become more like Jesus. Every time I pray, "God, I don't understand but I really want to!", He's opening up my eyes to see better. After following Jesus for 23 years, it's a bit rough trying to add new things or shifting your interpretation of things to make room for the new stuff. I feel thrown off and I find myself sometimes trying to work the new things into formulas so I don't forget them. They're all so foreign to me yet I know they are truth.

Maybe that's why small group was so amazing today, because there was a realness and something that I could finally relate to without trying to figure it out. I know brokenness. I know waiting. I know tears. I may not fully understand what the gospel of Repentance means enough to regurgitate it or all the scriptures about the Holy Spirit, but I know that in my life, I have been broken and now I'm whole. My heart has been shattered, and it is now filled with joy. I have cried and struggled to break out of depression and now I walk in freedom. This is real for me. This is Jesus for me. My perfect shepherd, my comforter, my redeemer and my healer. Never once do I have to sit back and think, "Hmmm, let me see what this feels like for a few days." No. I already know because I've been through it and have come out on the other side and seen the goodness of the Lord! He is faithful! He is kind! He is gentle! His loving kindness never ends and His faithfulness reaches to the sky. Watching my friend cry and bare her soul was so refreshing because it reminded me of the time when I cried and bared my soul and met God there. And how I've continued to walk with the reality of who God is every day since then.

Eventually, the other things will become more than head knowledge and I'll have the deep seated conviction about them just like the people who told me about it all were. I could hear conviction in their words and I know that as I look to Jesus for revelation, that conviction will come to me too. But I don't have to make it happen. I have a journey and God loves it! He loves the freedom I am finding and is guiding me gently through each day, showing me little by little, more of who He is. I love that about Jesus.

Love,
Me

It's not mine.

Dear Blog Audience,

Tonight I did one of the things that I struggle with the most: Wasting my time. Ugh. I hate that feeling of looking at the clock two hours later and realizing I did absolutely nothing of eternal value in those two hours put together except I might have drank water which is good. I guess. But honestly, why do I do it? Why do I feel like it's okay to sit on my backside in front of a computer screen reading things or playing games or searching nothingness? Sometimes it's called "free time." Sometimes it's called "being irresponsible." Either way, I hate wasting time. I love resting. I love being alone. But I hate wasting that time on fleshly desires that do not edify my spirit. Using my free time wisely has been a struggle for years. I've been convicted about it since I was 14 years old and I realized how selfishly I was living. I knew I needed to give that time to Jesus. I knew it. and here I am, 10 years later, still feeling the same conviction and the knot in the pit of my stomach because I did it. Again.
Really?
Yes. Really. I have done so well in so many areas that God has called me to give up. Unhealthy food, movies, facebook, unworshipful music, certain people and behavior... I have my moments but overall, I've done quite well and it's been a wonderful discovery that my flesh will die if I don't feed it. Except there is this one thing that keeps winning its battles with me. Time wasting.
Why do I think it's my time anyways? I'm still breathing air that God gives me and I am alive because God has continued to give me life. Why should I think that just because I've done A, B and C that I can take the next hour to waste? God is still worthy of my praise in that time. 
I sat at my piano and cried tonight because I felt so disconnected. I'd wasted so much time and I felt so foolish. The most important thing in my life is Jesus but I did not act like that today. Today it was my phone, it was some lady's blog that I wanted to read (I don't even know her but she has cute kids. I think that officially labels me as a stalker. A creepy stalker.), it was worrying about my unfavorite class. Today is gone forever and I can't change all the time I let slip past me and that thought makes my heart ache. Literally. There's nothing I dread more than having to go to sleep after a day of losing the time wasting battle. Not because I don't trust God's love for me, but because I wanted to love Jesus with all of my heart, soul, mind and strength and I didn't.
The best thing about days like these is that God still absolutely loves me, desires me and takes care of me. There isn't a single doubt in His heart as He looks at me about whether He loves me or not. He's so committed to me and leading me faithfully on this journey. I don't know what I missed out on today because I didn't steward my time but I do know that tomorrow already has new mercies in it, waiting for me to wake up and fill me with joy. That thought makes me smile.

Love,
Me

Top 20 list!

I like making lists and to celebrate my 20th blog I'm going to make a list of 

20 things I love about my life right now; single, in school, living at home... ;]

20) My alone time. All of it.
19) I can talk to myself out loud without looking ridiculous.
18) When my 5 yr old brother sneaks into my bed in the middle of the night.
17) That I get to have buddy time with my 14 yr old brother.
16) Hours on the piano
15) Honestly, living at home.
14) Being one of the parking dudes
13) My dad taking care of me.
12) Being an aunty to 5 fabulous boys.
11) Tea dates with my friends.
10) Sitting before the Lord and holding nothing back.
9) Driving at night by myself and telling God how I'm feeling.
8) Taking my brothers with me to my classes.
7) Same 4 songs all night every night.
6) My David brothers. Seriously.
5) Texting my sistie about things only she knows about.
4) The 4 amazing families I babysit for.
3) My hair is getting longer :)
2) Long talks with my mom about what God is doing.
1) Having that wonderful peace on the inside from Jesus, trusting in His heart for me even when things don't look like they're going to work out. 


Love,
Me

And then there was today...

Hi Blog Audience,

Today it is snowing. I like snow. I was born in Minnesota and had a few winters in Northern Wisconsin before I moved to the mountains where our winters always involved getting snowed into our house at some point. so I know what it's like to look out the window from October til March (give or take a month or so) and see white everywhere. After a few months, it gets old. This year has been very mild and it reminds me of my more recent winters where snow was very uncommon. For us we had rain and mud and sometimes a brief amount of time where we had sleet mixed in but my last winter there (2010) I slept with the window in my bedroom open until the middle of December. Not because it was hot, but because the fresh air was wonderful and I could.
What I do NOT like about snow is driving in it. It's scary. Even though I'm a cautious driver, some people are stupid and sometimes really cautious people are caught up in accidents because stupid people don't think and their lack of thought injures all the people around them. I'm not mad at them, I'm just scared of them. I was really hoping to have a snow day because... well, mostly because my body is really stressed out so the pain is reaching a point where I get distracted by it. ("The pain" meaning the Arthritis pain.) I'm used to pain. The normal amount of pain. The email declaring my freedom for the day did not come however so here I am, on the 4th Monday of the school year.
When I started this semester, I had just finished one of the best semesters of my life along with an awesome Christmas break. My spirit was soaring, I was totally optimistic that this semester would look like last semester because my heart was in the same place of pressing deeper into God and giving up the things of this world. Little by little, I'm realizing how different this season will be for me. Last season was fruitful. This new year is starting with a pruning session. I've had a lot of pruning since coming back to America and I didn't understand a lot of it but at least now I know that the pruning means that the last season was fruitful and now the areas in my life that had growth are being cut back and taken care of so that in the coming year, they can grow even bigger and bear even more fruit. (Analogy coming from John 15).
For me the pruning looks like not liking one of my classes, having a lot of pain, realizing for the millionth time that I'm still single and living at home at the age of 23 1/2, feeling how poor I am in spirit and having my buttons pushed by my brothers (remember my other blog post?). I know that I need this pressing and shaking and refining, I don't want to fight it. I also don't want to be scared by it. There is no need for me to be upset by all this because I know that it's my Heavenly Father helping me grow even more and He is gentle with my frail heart and broken frame. I want this just as much as my flesh hates this. This is my journey. I have my heart set on doing and finishing this semester well and ending my single years well (whenever that will be) and in all things rejoicing. Even with a swollen knee, limping down the hall way to a class that I don't enjoy before going back home to a house that belongs to my parents, not to a house of my own with my husband. I will rejoice. I will. Because the joy of the LORD is my strength and by golly, I need a lot of strength right now.
The wonderful thing is that even in the midst of the pruning and the refining, I have joy. I have peace. I have confidence in the love of my Father. Sometimes I have to fight for it. Sometimes I just have to sit and receive it. The Word is hitting deeper than it used to. I don't ever say, "Well hey, this looks like a good time to be pruned.", I do say, "God, whatever You're doing, I surrender into Your hands because I trust Your goodness and Your gentleness." Like David I will say,

You have also given me the shield of Your salvation;
Your right hand has held me up,
Your gentleness has made me great. [Psalm 18:35]

Today my journey is marked by snow and pain and joy. Hopefully tomorrow will be a little less white.
Love,
Me

Valentine's day prayer

Dear Blog Audience,

After my lovely example of raw Baylea emotions, I'm sure you're ready for something that actually edifies you. I guess the main subject these days is Valentine's day. I could write about that but I really don't have much experience with how to have a great Valentine's day. I'm usually pretty happy on Valentine's day. I always think about my husband [the one that I'm not married to yet] and I always pray,

"God, let this be the last Valentine's day that I am single." 

Looks like I'll be praying that prayer again this too. Honestly though, I'm not that upset about it. How can I be? If I don't have that person, it's obviously not time yet and God's timing is WAY more important than having a date on Valentine's day. Even if I have to pray that prayer for 50 years in a a row [Oh Lord, have mercy], I will always pray, "God, YOUR timing." and mean it. I've seen relationships start in the wrong timing. It sucks! I don't want that! I want a relationship, a man that will eventually be my best friend, but I don't want that premature relationship that cripples you because things seem so right and so wrong at the same time. Everybody gets hurt, nobody knows how to really fix the problem, your parents say one thing, the other person says another and you want to do what both parties are telling you to do but you can't because they are exact opposite. Sometimes you stay with the person and feel like you can never really be yourself or you break it off and you feel like you can never really be yourself. I. Do. Not. Want. That.
HOWEVER! One day, I'll have that best man in the world that gives me an amazing Valentine's day and I can write him a love letter and dress cute and hold his hand and glow with happiness. I want that. And then we'll have some kids and Valentine's day will probably look like us in our sweat pants eating frozen burritos on the couch while the kids watch Veggie Tales. I want that too. Because my husband will be with me and I'll know that he loves me in so many other ways that getting dressed up for a date. There will be love letters and cute clothes but there will also be a deeper knowledge of love and each other. Maybe his main love language won't be quality time, maybe his highest love language is acts of service and the way I can most bless him is by doing something for him. He'll know that I'm not a big chocolate lover [I go through moods] and realize that a box of cookies is my love language. Our marriage won't stay at the level it will be on the day we get married, just like our bodies won't stay in the same shape. I hope that 20 years from now my husband and I can look at our wedding pictures and think, "Wow, we were so good looking back then but we didn't know a thing about love." and be glad that we know more about love even if our bodies don't look quite so young.
I suppose I should stop writing about my husband so people don't get confused. Or maybe I'll just explain. One day, I will be married. This man is a real person and one day I will stand before him and vow to be his wife. With this mind set, I have decided to set my heart on this nameless young man and not pretend like he doesn't exist. That's why I often refer to the man without a name as my husband already to remind myself that my wait is not in vain. It's for a real person.
That all being said, I don't have any big plans for Valentine's day this year. I'm sure my heart will play tug of war between being satisfied in Christ and that persistent feeling that has plagued me for years of wanting to know this beautiful thing people call being in a relationship. And I will pray that it is my last Valentine's day that I ever spend as a single girl. Not because I'm miserable, but because I know that there's a handsome young man that fits the description in my heart of the man of my dreams out there. Maybe he's praying that this is the last Valentine's day he's single too...

Love,
Me

This is me... crabby, confessing and comforted.

Dear Blogging Audience,

I'm an empty well right now. The emotions and thoughts I do have aren't exciting and my flourishing vocabulary is taking a vacation. And my 14 year old brother is being really annoying right now. With my school schedule as it is, the introvert in me is screaming. Right now even. Screaming loudly.
I suppose this is a good thing. I have to kill my flesh somehow. And yet, instead of embracing this chance to be loving and kind even though I don't feel like it, I am glaring at my brother. "I'm so wound up right now and I don't know why!" he says. I think my tongue is bleeding from biting it so hard. No, I did not make any snarky comments but about 5,000,000 tumbled into my mouth, ready for me to vomit out as soon as I gave it the green light. I suppose it is a small victory that I choked them all back.

*Sigh* I've turned on Phil Wickham and am feeling peace slowly seep into my discontented soul. Why so cranky? I suppose lack of sleep, lack of love for my major in school this semester and lack of alone time added together has created this beautiful new rendition of me. Glorious. Oops, that was sarcastic.

Please, don't think that the last few days have been exactly like this. I'm not completely wretched and miserable. There have been times where someone says exactly what my heart needed to hear and my heart leaps up and says, "Yes! Yes, I remember why I'm doing this now!" or I read the word and I feel the words soaking into my dry spirit. Something I've grabbed onto with both hands this week is the truth that yesterdays manna is not enough. Oh man, sometimes it's not not even enough to get through one day and I come back desperate for The One who satisfies me. I lay my heart bare, so weak and broken, so calloused and raw, so cold and hard, and I cry out from my very core. If there is one thing I have learned in this semester it is that my need to be satisfied goes deep and wide and long and high and in the very center is my cold heart and my small expectation to actually have that need met. One of the most beautiful verses to me at the moment is about God doing above all I can ask and imagine [Eph. 3:20-21]. I want to believe this verse. I want this verse to comfort me on sad days and encourage me on good days and amaze me every day. I don't believe it. Not yet I don't. So I just keep reading it and closing my eyes and trying to understand it. But I can't, praise God. I don't want to understand as much as I want to just believe. Just like I'm slowly beginning to believe that God's love is deeper and wider and longer and higher than my ache and my longing. My empty little life doesn't have a chance against this hurricane force. My mind is so shadowed and my thoughts are so dim. I used to think my imagination was something to boast about but if I can't even imagine a God that shoots His love into me to deep that I'm satisfied by this fountain of living water. No, I can't imagine. But I can know. I do know. Barely. One day fully.

Like I said, I'm an empty well. I'm no longer quite as cranky but then again, my 14 year old brother is finally doing his chores and is no longer saying everything that pops into his adolescent brain. I think the must frustrating thing was that his proud and selfish and sarcastic comments made me feel like I was looking in a mirror and it was painful. My weakness being paraded for all to see. I knew it too. Geesh, how could I not? Holy Spirit is very good at telling me what is in my heart because that's what real friends do. I can't even be mad. Even someone like me who pretends a lot of things can't ignore this mortal flesh that encases my dry bones and weary soul.

Love,
Me

Gut-wrenching sobs

Dear blog audience,

for those of you who don't know me, I'm a crier. I have no shame in my tears. If I'm upset, I cry. If I'm sad, I cry, if I'm lonely I cry, if I'm being touched by the Lord I cry, if I'm happy I cry. Sometimes it's only a couple tears and me getting choked up. Sometimes it's a longer time of tears where I need to be alone and feel what is in my heart. Rarely is it gut wrenching sobs. 

I think the first time I actually sobbed from the pit of my stomach was in 2009. The Fes Youth Group was having an all night prayer meeting and someone said something about how almost everyone in the youth group was going to be leaving. There were only two people in the room that had no plans to leave and one of them was me. I looked at the other girl and we shared a sad smile, knowing that we were the only two gonna be left and then I melted on the inside. The next thing I know, I'm covering my face as I feel my insides coming out as I sit there sobbing (loudly). My friend Derik wrapped his arms around me and I don't know how long I cried, but I think that was the first time I really let myself mourn the fact that so many important friends of mine were leaving. I had cried before and I had felt the pain before, but this was different. This shook the very core of my insides. That of course set off all the girls and soon we were all just a puddle of crying girls (And boys) as we prayed over each other. 

There were a few times that I cried like that again when we left Morocco. Most of them were by myself though. Alone on my bed, smothering my cries with my pillow. locked in the bathroom at 2am so that no one else would hear me, in an empty house laying on the floor because there was just no emotional strength to stand back up. The cries and the tears came from deep inside and I could feel the pain so strongly. It was actually physically painful in my chest. 

Well, it's been a while since I have had a session of gut-wrenching weeping. For one, I have had so much of my heart healed that the pain isn't as strong. And I find so much more comfort in Jesus. I've had tears and times of really feeling sad but nothing that touched the inside of my so deeply that the only way to let is out was to open up my emotions and cry with everything inside of me. Usually you can't plan these times either. They come because of something that someone says, does, implies... Something triggers your emotions and they just all come out. (unless you are emotionally constipated.) As you know from before, I've been emotional since school started this semester but I really haven't had anything bothering me that I felt like I just needed to cry it out. 

Someone once told me that I was very in tune with what my body was saying. Whether that is true or not, I totally missed this one. I went to service last night because I had an off night before I start babysitting for another family on Friday nights. During worship and ministry time, some friends and I began praying for each other. First it was just so that the Holy Spirit would increase, we prayed for healing for a couple of us and then the Spirit of Prophecy fell and we began to speak words of life and calling and destiny over each other. Lies were broken off, strongholds broken off, chains were broken off and we did this for an hour or so. God seemed to be highlighting one person at a time and so everyone would pray and prophesy over one person and then God would highlight the next one. I hadn't been highlighted yet and we were praying for someone else when my really good friend Kelly turned to me and said, "You are the daughter of God's joy. You are like His first born, His favorite one." from there she went on to say that it was so important that I keep interceding for the safety of the children at Village of Hope. I've never told anyone the burden in my heart for those kids and how I think about how many children in that area where they are get sexually abused and how I think about that they are now seen as orphans and not children with families to keep them safe. How protected will they be from being trafficked and sold into prostitution? The mountains where I used to live is known all the way on the Northern coast of the country for it's brothels. Those words that Kelly spoke over me, not even knowing how right on she was, made me cry. A few tears and a couple sniffles. But at the end she said, "I pray that you'll find a husband that will say to you, 'Hey, let's go on a trip and just go back and see those kids.' and that you would find a husband that would want to travel with you and take you places."

That's when the sobbing started. 

Now, I think about my husband a lot. A good portion of my day is spent praying and pondering about this man that is still a mystery to me yet already so connected to my life. I ask God about him often, just wanting to know more about this stranger whom I will marry. I am not anxious, but I am antsy. I fully trust the will of God concerning my love life (I mean, come on. He is the author of the greatest love story of all time.) but my "biological clock" is ticking. I'm excited to be a wife. I'm excited to have a family. I'm excited to fall in love with a broken and redeemed human. I want it to happen! What kind of person would I be if I didn't have the desire to be romanced? But I have my heart set on waiting for the moment that an upstanding young man talks to my father and says, "I don't want to live without your daughter." 

That being said, it surprised me how deeply the things that Kelly spoke over me went. I mean, yes, right now God has been speaking to me about a future mate but when Kelly began saying, "You're afraid this is going to happen and that your husband will be like that..." I felt something from the pit of my stomach cry out and say, "YES! I have been afraid! This is something that I was afraid of!" Sometimes lies go so deep that we don't even know they are there until someone calls them out and says, "This is a lie. This is truth. Walk in freedom." 

By the time Kelly was done, snot and tears were everywhere, my insides were trembling and I felt lighter. Sometimes when you weep so heavily, it takes time to get out of that feeling of sobriety. This time, though, I just stopped crying and was fine. Shaking, yes, but there was no turmoil in my soul. 

Sometimes I look back over my life and I wonder why God brings up certain things at certain times with certain people. For times like last night, I know it's another step closer to being a good wife that doesn't live in fear of her husband. It's another step in the right direction for a healthy marriage. How many more steps will there be? Who knows. But there will be more both before and after I get married. It's wonderful how God honors your choice to go through the journey when you fully surrender to Him. I know that learning hard lessons can be uncomfortable but I'd rather be uncomfortable than live in pride, unforgiveness, depression and lies. He uses things like people speaking truth over your heart to bring freedom to an area you didn't even know you had. He uses gut-wrenching sobs to take you into a place of deeper intimacy with Him. He uses weakness to glorify His name. It's so worth it.

Love,

Me

A day in the life of an IHOPU student [Class Cheers]

Dear blogging audience,

Last night I read the blog of a lady who had hundreds of followers and was amazed at how many updates she just did about life. I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that this blog will become a huge network of people with 300+ comments on each post but I figured giving you guys a peek into one of my busy days wouldn't hurt.

Thursday:
This morning I woke up happy. Not that this fact is all that uncommon but on a morning like this one, it could be classified as a miracle. In fact, last night when I wrote in my journal and grumped before going to bed,  I was anticipating having a crabby morning. I was ready to feel exhausted, unprepared for the day, discumbobulated [like here] and introverted but I really didn't. I woke up, I found clothes that matched, I grabbed the right books and got myself to where I needed to be at the right time. And I felt joyful. It was wonderful!
And today in class, we had a quiz which I "studied" for. (Defnition: read through the notes with a highlighter and high lighted the things that sounded cool.) and I only missed half a point. Not gonna lie, getting a good grade really boosts my happy level for the day. The rest of class wasn't a normal class. Instead of sitting and listening to our teacher talk, we were assigned study groups and a topic to discuss.  After discussing our topic for about half an hour, we all got back together and one or two people from each group went up and shared with the class what we found in our groups. The topic of my group was the Mercy of God. What a wonderful and deep subject. Mercy is communicable (an attribute of God that we can portray in our personal lives) but the more we talked about it the more transcendent it became. Mercy is an eternal attribute of God but how did He show mercy before creation? How will He show it after we've been redeemed? Those questions sparked something in my heart. I love that I will have all of eternity to study the mercy of God.

Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!

    For His mercy endures forever.

Psalm 136:1

This afternoon was IHOPU chapel. Everyone goes. Freshmen through seniors, night watch and day watch, ministry students, music students, media students. Personally, I would put chapel in my top 5 favorite things about IHOPU. We all come together. We all love each other. I get to hug all the people I don't normally see and we hear from someone in leadership over IHOPU with a provoking and heart stirring message. But, the highlight (for everyone, no joke) are the class cheers. One of the top IHOPU faculty members always goes onto stage after worship and talks for a few minutes but before she leaves and lets the speaker come up, she asks, "Okay, you ready for the class cheers?" The order she picks us to do them is random, sometimes picking the freshmen first, sometimes the seniors, sometimes the cheer that she personally likes the best... Whichever way she does it, we all get excited. Now, the sophomores had the best class cheer the beginning of the last semester. [Yes, I am a sophomore.] The Juniors had created a call and response cheer and it was pretty good, but we took their idea and made a longer one. Last semester, the Freshmen tried to come up with a cheer that was good enough for our faculty member but she's picky and week after week would say, "Come on, Freshmen! Find something better!" (all out of love.) Sophomores got booted out of #1 spot earlier last semester by the interns that joined us during chapel. It was a sad day when they were given a standing ovation and the "Kings and Priests" were simply old news. Today we didn't have the interns and we had the director over all of IHOP-KC there as a guest speaker. Last week we didn't do cheers because the spirit fell the cheer lady was crying and getting ministry (don't worry, it was worth it.) so we were all stoked to do our cheers for the first time for the Spring semester today. Classes had literally been practicing and thinking about it all week because we were so excited. Announcements were finished and the speaker was about to start and a cry went up from the hundreds of students in the auditorium, "Class cheers! Class cheers!" The response was, "We don't want to take time from the speaker." "Oh, no. Go ahead." Our speaker smiled. "I want to see this."
The student body erupted into shouts of thanksgiving and we all sat in anticipation as our cheer director came onto stage and grabbed a mic. The order was decided and Freshmen were going to start. Now, the sophomores had walked into a Freshmen class cheer practice so I knew they had a boss class cheer. And, yes, I was jealous. I mean, so far we were still #1 in the IHOPU class cheer world because the internship wasn't technically part of school. Of course when the Freshmen do their little song and dance to start us off, the room explodes, they get a standing ovation and the cheer lady is ecstatic. FINALLY! They had come up with something that was worthy of being an IHOPU class cheer. I think every face was literally glowing, the freshmen were so happy. Then it was our turn. We did our cheer perfectly and sounded fierce but, honestly, after such an epic start, we didn't stand a chance. The upper class men got the, "Is that it?!" response so we ended big with the Freshmen again.

I remember when the Sophomores were asked to do their cheer twice. I remember when the sophomores were given a standing ovation. I remember when we were praised from the stage for having such an awesome class cheer. And as I sat through the speaker, I realized that that day was over. I knew that the "Kings and Priest" glory days were over. Sure, our cheer is awesome, but with all these new kids coming in, I know that the class cheers will simply get bigger and better until they get to be full length musicals. We'll look back and think about the current senior class and how their cheer is simply flapping their arms like "Angels in the Outfield." Last years graduating class sign was just the peace sign. And as I pondered this whole ritual called "Class Cheer" I realized that I was okay with not being known as the class with the best class cheer anymore. I'd rather be known as the class with the best attitude. I'd rather be known as the class that was the hungriest for the things of God. I'd rather be known as the class that went low to serve our classmates and faculty. Did I like having the best class cheer? Oh, absolutely! But thank God that going to IHOPU is so much more than just having the best cheer to wow everyone else at chapel once a week. It's about that reach in our hearts. I pick the deep things of God over a standing ovation.

Love,
Me
 

Today in school...

hello blogging audience,

Today in school, the teacher brought up free-will and predestination. It threw me off because the last time I'd really heard anyone discuss the topic of whether God had ordered every single action of every single person for every single second or if God didn't know everything because He allowed us our own choices was when I was 19 years old. It also happened to be the first time I'd heard anyone bring it up. At first I was stunned. How could God not know everything? I wondered. I don't think I like this topic. So I decided to believe what I'd always believed (that God knew everything) and forget about the predestination title. I didn't search it out, I didn't want to search it out, I didn't want someone else to search it out and tell me about it, I just wanted my disrupted thoughts to be placed back on the shelves of what I believed in and left alone. And until today, that's exactly what happened.

Thankfully, I've grown quite a bit in my faith and my knowledge of the scriptures since that first day I heard my friends talking about predestination vs. free-will so I didn't freak out quite so much. In fact, during the break I was talking to my friends about it and I found it comforting that none of us really knew what to believe because there seemed to be so many scriptures that came to mind that pointed to both views. After class I drove over to the prayer room so I could be with the Lord and try to wrestle through the notes from class. Sometimes when I can't figure out what I'm feeling or thinking, I sing and I find it brings clarity a lot quicker than trying to talk. Plus in a song, my thoughts tend to lead to more thoughts that I didn't even know that I had. So that's what I did as I drove, I sang. Some of the words that came out of my mouth surprised me because not only did they answer some of the questions, they also showed me that some of the questions didn't even need to be answered. Here's a sneak peak of my journal from after class...

Jan 31st, 2012
Jono's class was very... controversial in some ways today. Talking about Predestination and Free-Will. I don't even know how it all works but I 100% believe that Jesus/Father/Holy Spirit is omniscient and knows everything. But I also know that God moves because of prayer and offers us the chance to receive mercy in place of judgment and relates to us personally in a real, loving, inside-of-time way. We have free will yet God has appointed a time and an hour for Jesus to come back in response to a generation raising up as intercessors that beckon Him to come home. Jesus was slain before the foundation of the world yet do Free-Will theists [or whatever they are called] believe that God knew Adam would sin? I can't reject either one and I think God likes it that way. I don't have to have someone explain it. I can trust my Heavenly Father. Whether He did pre-determine everything or not. His heart is for me and I trust Him. 
 ...I love that I can trust my Heavenly Father even when I don't always understand His ways or I get thrown off by man. Maybe Jono is right. Maybe no one is right. Me loving God and knowing He is worthy doesn't hinge on whether I understand everything in the bible or not. I want to understand but how can I expect to fully understand when I am so much lower than the One I am trying to know? My mind just can't even go there. Regardless, I will worship. I will set my heart to press further into the heart of God. I know it is for me. He is delighted to share Himself with me...


One of the phrases that came out of my mouth while I was singing was, "Your attributes don't contradict one another but they will offend our hearts." and that thought struck me. I realized that there are so many things about God that man tries to understand and explain and define and teach about when really, how can we know? Maybe both Predestination and Free-Will are wrong. Maybe I'm just in my own camp all by myself and don't really know what I'm doing. Whatever it is, one thing does not change: God is worthy of my praise and my adoration, even when I get offended at some of the things that I find as I seek Him out. Who is man that we can tell Him how to act and who He is? I love that He delights to show us glimpses of His character and nature and that my love for Him increases through those glimpses, but I have to keep in mind, they are only glimpses and I must not think that I know God completely because of them.

Oh, the life of a bible college student.
Love,
Me

What "I love you" sounds like

Dear Blog Audience,

My youngest brother has Down Syndrome but he is absolutely precious. Even now as I'm writing this, he is sitting with me on my bed. I love these times because it is him in his adorable footie pajamas finding all the little things in my room that a baby shouldn't play with and me becoming a puddle of mush as I watch him be cute. Usually when we're hanging I don't get on the computer because I love to cuddle with him and "talk" with him. I don't always know what he is going to understand and we have about 20+ signs that we all use as a family when we are talking to him. Often times he surprises me with how much he understands. Like when we're praying for our meals he always reaches his hands out to be part of our circle around the table. When we say, "bous" [Arabic for kiss] he puckers up and puts his mouth up to kiss us and when anyone says "Yay!" he automatically claps and his face lights up. He's such a wonderful child.

Tonight though, I was surprised and melted both when he understood without the sign language when I said, "I love you."

He was snuggled up against me with a grumpy look on his face because I had just told him he couldn't press on the laptop keys [my own fault, I know.]. But I leaned over and said, "I love you." and his entire face lit up and he smiled. All I did was say the words, there were no gestures or anything. I said it again and this time he held up his hand with his pointer finger up (his interpretation of the "I love you" sign in ASL.). He kept holding up his little finger at me without me saying anything. He knows what "I love you" sounds like and looks like. And I know he knows what "I love you" feels like because he gives and receives love, just like all of my other brothers. 

I guess because so many people are choosing to abort their babies when doctors say that the child has Down Syndrom, I have the amazing privilege of loving and stewarding a dying race. What if my brother had been given to another family and that family heard that he had Down Syndrome while he was still in the womb and they decided they didn't want that child. Then no one would have gotten to say "I love you" and see his face light up. I really do have a treasure. 

Love,

Me

My Theme Songs

Dear Blog Audience,

Because I'm a musician I often think in terms of songs. The other day I wrote in my journal about how I want "I surrender all" to be my theme song right along with "Great is Thy faithfulness" and "Worth it all." The past few months I have just been in awe of God's faithfulness and how wise He is in leading me. Some of the things that I kicked against and complained about the most are now such blessings to me and have helped me grow the most. Like being single and going to IHOPU and leaving Morocco. I've had such rotten attitudes about each of those things from time to time. I told God that I would get married when I was 21. I told God I never wanted to go to college. I told God I wanted to spend the rest of my life in Morocco. I set my heart on these things and planned my life accordingly. You can imagine how upset I was when God gently took my plans and said, "No, Baylea. Not these plans."

Now I'm 23 and still single and I am so glad I've had this season of life single. Yes, I get anxious and haven't always held my heart in a way that I am proud of but God has been faithful to change my heart attitude. I am just so thankful that God has kept me hedged in and hidden away for me to get to this place of finding my joy and satisfaction in Jesus only. Sometimes I think back to where my heart used to be and my heart overflows with gratitude for the wisdom of God. He sees the whole picture and knows my seasons and my times. I really needed these past few months to get to a point where I wasn't looking to a boy or a relationship to fill me. I can't imagine what kind of marriage I would have gotten myself into if I had gotten married at the age of 21. Thank You Jesus for Your wisdom and Your faithfulness to finish the work that You start in me! As painful as it is to surrender sometimes, I know that is it so worth it. 

College was never on my radar. Not as a 10 year old. Not as a 15 year old. Not as an 18 year old or a 20 year old. I was content with my education and I didn't want to push my luck by going to college and failing. My dream was to be a wife and a mother, what kind of college could equip me for that? Sure, there were other things that I enjoyed doing such as music and writing and teaching but I didn't see any point in spending a bunch of money that I didn't have on an education that I didn't really want. So when I realized that God was leading me in the direction of IHOPU I wasn't very impressed. Until I fell in love. With my classmates, with my teachers, with God and what He was doing in the student body and with what God was doing with me through my classes. I look back on my year and half at IHOPU as one of the best seasons of my life. There has been blessing and pain, extreme growth and extreme loss but each day had mercy and grace from sunrise to sunset and I am who I am right because of everything God has done in my heart in the last 18 months. Jesus, You knew exactly what You were doing when You put me in this school. Thank You for this season of learning. It has been worth every single penny and every single hour I've put into it.

The hardest thing I've ever done was leave my home. One time that home was Wisconsin and I was leaving it for Morocco. I was an emotional wreck and it took a long time to love that place. The last time I had to leave home my home was Morocco and I was coming to Kansas City. Again, I was an emotional wreck but this time it wasn't just me crying and pouring my heart out to my journal, it was severe depression and suicidal thoughts. It was laying on the bathroom floor at 2am because I was crying so hard and I didn't want my sister to be woken up. It was trying to kill what I was feeling through anything I could find- movies, music, friends, computer, IM... Anything I could think of. Yet Jesus was so gentle. At the time it felt rough and I thought I was broken forever but I couldn't see that I was the one making it so difficult. I told God to fix my heart and then took my heart away from Him. I turned to other lovers and broken cisterns, begging them to fill me. When it didn't work I blamed God for not doing what He promised. I can't imagine how many times God held out His healing hands to me, calling me to come to Him and find rest for my weary soul and I never even heard Him because I was too busy wondering why He didn't heal my heart and drowning in an ocean of false gods. The months following my return to the states are filled with the faithfulness to God. He brought people into my life, He took things out of my life, He hemmed me in and wept with me. One time a friend was praying for me and she said, "I see you laying on your bed crying with your face to the wall and behind you is God and He's crying with you." and I knew that it wasn't just one time that God cried with me. It was every time. I didn't want to surrender Morocco. Ever. I wanted God to just fit His plans for me around the fact that I was never going to leave that country. But He didn't because He knew so much more than me. He knew I needed to go to school. He knew I needed to meet the people that are in my life now. He knew I needed to learn more about Him and more about myself. Finally I surrendered, knowing that God's faithfulness was great and it has been worth it all. 

I remember when I was 15 I realized that surrendering was a daily process. It wasn't just a one time done deal, it was a continual setting of my heart. Different things would come into my life and I'd need to give them back up to Jesus. For a while I thought that nothing else could faze me after giving up Morocco but I was wrong. There have been many times I struggled to give things back over to God but in the end, I always choose surrender because I already know that God's way is better. His faithfulness is everlasting. Nothing I can keep now will compare with what God will give me later at the end of time as a reward. One simple reason being that everything on this earth will fade away and only the Word of the Lord will remain. I want what remains, not momentary pleasures.

Jesus, I surrender all. Great is Thy faithfulness. It's worth it all. Amen.

Love,
Me

$100 for a temper tantrum

Dear Blog Audience,

Yesterday, I had a temper tantrum. (This is a very important part of my story so pay attention to this wonderful example of how mature I am.) It was me, sitting on the couch, blubbering, and telling God about how I didn't know why I felt so emotional or tired or if my family was okay or how I was going to survive with school and being single (yes, yes, I did bring that up...) and reminding God of this that and the other thing. Now, I know that temper tantrums are usually little children flailing around on the floor creaming bloody murder but for me, it was still a tantrum. I just let it all out and vocalized so many of the questions and doubts going around in my head after just one week of school. I'm an internal processor so I usually don't have to talk to figure out how I'm feeling but last night I talked (or whined, both are true.) and cried and was border lining on having a pity party. Thankfully I just dried my tears, prayed, "God, help me." and carried on with my night.

As you know, I'm a baby sitter and one of my nights to work is Friday night which meant my bouts of crying and being frustrated at how I was feeling was interrupted by changing a poopy diaper, helping another child use the bathroom, getting the baby get back to sleep, checking on the kids etc. That's how moms do it, right? Thankfully most of my time is simply spent in the living room next to the baby monitors watching the Friday Night service at church.

The guy who gave the exhortation last night prayed for us and he said, "Just pray in your own words, 'God, come woo my heart again.'" So I did. Of course I was crying again (because I just cry all the time these days) and I figured there wasn't anything to lose. I cut down the lie that God would disappoint me like so many other people in my life and declared at the end of my prayer, "God, You are good. You are kind. You have been faithful to me." On one hand I knew that God would come through because He loves to answer my prayers but on the other (more dominate) hand I didn't fully believe that it would happen because why would God take the time to woo my heart? I already believed in His goodness and His wisdom, why would He take the time to convince me again? That aching and longing to be satisfied clung to the hope that God would touch my heart again and the tired, overwhelmed part of me tried to reason myself out of believing. It was a battle inside of me as I prayed but I shoved it out of my head and just focused on the next person who was talking in the service.

It got to be later and later and the parents texted to ask if they could stay out and finish a conversation they were having. I told them it was fine and took the extra time to write in my journal (more tantrum just in written form) and cry and search "cute babies" on google. I found a website called "cute baby fix" and it helped tremendously to distract myself. Finally the parents got back, paid me and I left without looking at my check.
I got in the car, my mind set on just going home and sleeping and hoping that I felt better in the morning. I was driving home feeling blah and discouraged when I decide to pull out my check. I expected it to be the normal amount or maybe a little extra since it was later than usual but I did not expect it to say $100. That was it, the flood gates were opened and I bawled like a baby all the way home. I asked God, "Why?! Why did You give me $100 when I threw a temper tantrum tonight? Don't You remember me sitting in the living room telling You about everything that You needed to fix? I was being a baby and You turn around and woo my heart! Why?!?!"

But... why does this surprise me? This has been the story of my life! The little kisses of love from my Heavenly Father that are given simply because He knows that it will show me, once again, that He loves me. What kind of God is this? He doesn't need me. He doesn't have to even give me my next breath. Yet throughout my entire tantrum I breathed again and again and used each breath to question the heart of God for me. And then He kisses my heart and says, "Baylea, I love you."

Me!
A finite creature!
A girl that struggles to trust the only One who has never broken a promise!

On the drive home last night I said, "God, I can't give You anything because anything worth anything inside of me is already Yours. I can't love You except that You placed love in my heart. You gave me my body when You created it. You give me breath. You are the One that made my spirit. And You take the time to show me that You love me. Again! I already knew! I was already convinced of Your goodness and Your kindness but You saw me and heard my weak little prayer and answered it."
Before I got into bed I read Psalm 139 and could hardly choke out the words as each verse spoke so deeply to my heart at that moment. When I woke up this morning, all of the doubts and questions and rampant emotions were gone and inside of my heart was a peace. The peace that God has given me before. What a wonderful gift it is to have peace on the inside. 

And there you have it, folks. The story of how I got $100 after throwing a temper tantrum. And of how gracious and wonderful my God is.

Love,
Me

[P.S. I do not suggest you throw a temper tantrum but God will answer those prayers you pray asking Him to reveal His love to you again. Do it. I dare you.]

Discombobulated

Dear Blog Audience,

Today was tough. The last couple days I've cried a lot. Not in bad ways, but usually when I get overly emotional it's because I'm really tired or fasting and... I wasn't fasting. School has started and while I love the schedule and how easy it is, my body is having a hard time acclimating to being on the run again. Last night I forgot to set my alarm to wake up at 5 instead of 7 because I had to be at the prayer room at 6 so I woke up at 7. What could I do? There was nothing I could do. Thankfully the first week of school never has sign in for prayer room hours but I still wanted to honor the fact that I did commit to going to the prayer room at that time. I got there in time for the 8am set (which I always love) but I was so discombobulated that I didn't even hug Laura Hackett when she said good morning to me. I find that I use the word "discombobulated" a lot more since I started going to IHOPU. 


[Discombobulate
to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate: The speaker wascompletely discombobulated by the hecklers.]

I am still very excited about this coming semester though. I know that each class and each teacher were hand picked for me. I know that each person on my worship team was hand picked for me. I spent a lot of time over Christmas break praying that I would be able to love and serve my classmates and those in authority over me. I prayed for my teachers and my worship team. I didn't want school to start again and have a bad attitude about this that and the other thing. I wanted my heart to be ready to love the freshman and the upper-class men and the faculty of my school whether I was disappointed with a class or so excited that I was doing the happy dance. I'm a worship leader this semester which means I have the responsibility of being an example and leading other students not just during our worship sets but in all of our school requirements. I want the freshmen on my team to see me in the prayer room engaging with the Lord and not just sitting in the back on my phone or talking to a friend in the hallway. I want to set my heart to do my best in my classes so I can encourage others to do the same. It's really important to me to be faithful with the small things that God has put in my life right now because one day I want be in Thailand with a husband and 16 kids and a team of people who are there to establish a house of night and day prayer. I will need the grace of God to walk out each day but that is one of the dreams in my heart. Nations. Family. Prayer. Mmm, I want to be faithful now so that God will take me there later.

The month of January is almost gone and this baffles me because I feel like it was just yesterday that I was in the single digits of the month and now I only have one more week left. This is probably the first time in a long time that I am excited to move forward. I'm not one to want time to rush by (unless I know something amazing is coming up, like, moving back home.) so this is new to me. Of course there are things I am looking forward to, like one of my favorite people ever, Krista Bowman, coming to visit me in February and my sister having her baby in June but this is more than that. At the beginning of the year when I was asking God about the year 2012 He told me that this year is going to be a year of fulfilled promises. Just writing that out makes me excited! Even in the mundane and the tiredness and the tears there is an expectancy in my heart. On the good days and bad days, my spirit is alert and waiting for the promises to pass. What will it look like? I don't know except that I know that they will look a lot better than what I imagine. I know that because the bible tells me so. :)

Love,
Me

The Mom School

Hello blog audience,

Guys, I have the best job in the world. It prepares and equips me for my calling more than any other thing in the world. It fills me because I get to pour myself out. What am I? I'm a babysitter of course!

Tonight I got to do more than I normally do because I went over earlier than most weeks. I got to get the baby up from her nap, I got to cook them supper (it was frozen pizza, but still! I put that thing in the oven and cut it and fed those kids!), I bathed the littlest one, got them all to bed AND I cleaned the house (I love doing that and then leaving before the parents notice.). Granted, the kids were really good today, but I super enjoyed it.

I consider my babysitting jobs (there are three-four families that I babysit for regularly) the most important training school in my life at the moment. This strikes me as ironic because I get paid to babysit and in turn, use that money to pay to go to school. My highest calling, however, is not to play the piano and sing. One of my highest callings is to be the help-mate of the upstanding young gentleman that I have yet to meet and be the mother of the children God places in my life. [The highest calling of my life is to love God and love others.] I consider those two roles of wife and mother to be much more important than any job or school or degree or position in the whole world. And babysitting those precious children is my prep school.

When I babysit this particular family I always have the opportunity to learn more. The kids are wonderful and I love them all dearly but they are very full of life and probably smarter than I am on several levels so it takes a lot to keep up with them. The boys are not like my little brothers and the little girl is not like the other little girls I babysit. This gives me the opportunity to learn how to love differently. How to correct differently. How to see the world differently. Every child that is placed in my life gives me another chance to learn how to love differently. I love that about my job.

I know that when I become a mother, my children will not all come from my womb. They will come from many different countries and families and I'll need to know how to love each child the way that is best for them. I will need to know how to correct and discipline each child in a way that is best for them. I will need to know that the world doesn't always the same to each pair of eyes, but I'll need to get down on my knees so I can see the world the same way a child does. I have been praying for my kids for years and I know that some of them are probably already born. What is it going to look like to be the mother to the child another woman carried for 9 months? I don't know, but I know that these nights that I get to love the children I babysit for, God is working in my heart love for another child that will become mine.

And hopefully, when that day comes, and I have a bunch of kids and my husband and I want to take dance lessons (or even just go to wal-mart) we'll find a babysitter that can love our kids and who cleans our house just because she can. Sounds like an awesome girls to me ;)

Love,
Me

The sting of consecration

Dear Blog Audience,

Today was the first day of the spring 2012 semester at IHOPU [International House Of Prayer University]. It was the first day of no facebook and the first day that my blog got zero traffic. Not gonna lie, it stings to have over 200 views within the first four days and then boom, nothing. Just cause I'm not spamming everyone on facebook.

As I checked my stats to see who had been busy reading my heart-felt words while I was at school, I was disappointed to see that the answer was no one and I immediately thought, "Maybe it's stupid to give up facebook." I was so certain about my decision to turn off my facebook just a few moments ago. I'm so easily swayed by my emotions! [Lord, help me stay steady in what You've called me to do.]

Some of you may be thinking, "Why in the world did you give up facebook anyways?" Well, the answer is simple: I don't want to cheat myself out of anything that I might get out of this semester at school by being distracted by my social networks. Last fall at the beginning of the semester I was issued a challenge by the Holy Spirit asking me, "How deep will you go this semester?" And I realized that the depths to which I reach for and set my heart on in the semester is how much God can answer back and take me into. That's when my consecration began to be about more than just being single. It began being about my eyes, my ears, my free time, my mouth, my lifestyle... 

Right now the consecration doesn't feel so beautiful. But I still choose it. Yes, I know it looks like foolishness to the world but God has met me so powerfully in my season of abandon that I can't go back. When you taste something better than what you used to eat, you don't usually go back to that old food again, you stick with the new food. When you see something that is more beautiful than what you are used to seeing, the old things don't thrill you anymore. You just want one more glimpse of that beauty. It's all you think about. It's all you picture in your head. You tell everyone about this thing of beauty that has captured your attention and is so much more beautiful than anything you have ever seen before. That's how this season of seeking and finding God has been for me. I've tasted and I've seen and only Jesus can satisfy the heart inside of my chest.

One of my favorite songs to listen to is called "Worth it All" by Rita Springer. I listen to this song over and over and over and over and over... just ask my family. They know my routine- I get stuck on a song and I listen to it literally hundreds of times for weeks and weeks until I move on to my next song They are such patient people :) But this song has marked my heart. I believe with everything inside of me that me setting aside the things of this world will be so worth it at the end when I get to see the beautiful face of Jesus. It won't matter that no one looked at my blog today because instead of spending two hours on facebook, I loved my family. I won't remember being disappointed on the first day of school because no one read my posts, I'll remember that I sought the face of the Lord and He reached down and touched my heart. I believe that these little things that I say no to now will push me deeper into the infinite heart of God. There's not a doubt in my mind that having a facebook or watching movies or listening to secular music or surfing on the internet would keep me from experiencing all that God has in His heart to give me in this season.

Therefore, the lack of readers on my site = worth it. 

And that's why I am consecrated. Even when it stings.
Love,
Me

Goodbyes

Hello blogging audience,

Today I said goodbye to some precious friends of mine. At 5pm they all got on a plane and flew to the other side of the world... I hate saying goodbye.

When my family walked into their house earlier today to say goodbye one last time the first thing I noticed were the empty rooms, the last minute suitcase sitting open with things shoved into it, the bathroom scale sitting close by, waiting to weigh the last suitcase that will (hopefully) be under the right weight limit. The vacuum cleaner was out, the whole house smelled like Pine sol and... it was quiet. Immediately I was taken back to several moments in time when my house looked the same, the cleaning solutions permeated the air as we did our best to clean up the evidence that we had once lived there and there was a hush over everything. It made the pit of my stomach fill with butterflies and for a moment I felt like a 15 year old girl that was about to get on the airplane herself and fly half way around the world and start life all over again. Then I reminded myself that it wasn't us that were leaving this time. The thought was bittersweet to me.

In all of my moving, I can only remember being excited to move once and that was when I was moving back "home" and I (sort of) knew what was coming. But moving was my life. My 14 year old brother has never lived in a house longer than 2 years in his entire life. Looking back now I see such a beautiful journey but it was ugly and broken along the way and I laid down and gave up many times on that path. To a sentimental girl that doesn't like change, I  never seek change out but after doing it for so long, it's strange to not be the ones having to pack up my life into two 50 lb suitcases and say goodbye to the people in my life.

I used to mark my life by the goodbyes that I said. To my big brother, to my little sister, to my best friend, to my other best friend, to everyone I knew, to my family, to my best friend again, to the country that held my heart, to my kids, to my other kids, to the people that held my heart that were scattered across the map, to my best friend again... Goodbyes were serious business to me. They hurt but I never wanted to miss that special moment of closure with a friend where I could look them in the eye and say, "Goodbye." I remember times of tears running down my face as a friend walked away and I remember times of feeling to many emotions inside to cry. I remember times of that sweet assurance that the time apart from the person leaving was going to be short and the goodbye didn't hurt. And then I remember the agony of memorizing the face of a loved one knowing that the next time I saw them would probably a lot longer down the road and the familiar features that once marked my daily life would be changed. Yes, I said hello a lot and met some of the most spectacular people on the planet but goodbyes always followed the hellos.

One of the most amazing concepts that hit me as a teenager living the life of a nomad with my family was that God never leaves. Never. In all the different houses and cities and states and countries and continents, He always moved with me. Each time I would get a new bedroom, He was there that first night of uncertainty, holding me as I prayed that in the morning, the ache in my heart wouldn't be there.  Each moment that I was told that our time in a certain place was done, He was there, whispering, "I'm going ahead of you. I hold your times and your seasons in My hand." This became my comfort as I said goodbye more and more and left more friends and possessions behind. Now, as a young adult that is settling into the next season in one place (inshaAllah), I love to sing of the faithfulness of the Lord. I have many other reasons why but this thread of hope that wove itself throughout my teenage and young adult years is the starting point. Not one time did I ever sleep alone. Not one time did I ever step on an air plane alone. Not one time did I walk through the front door of my new house alone. I always had the God of the universe right next to me, delighting over my path and pouring out blessing on my life.

I serve a wonderful and gracious God.

Love,
Me