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

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

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 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

And sometimes, it really IS all in my head...

Hello blog audience,

I finally have three people following me!! I'm just a little excited. I have over 900 friends on facebook so I'm excited for this time of "small beginnings."

The topic of today's blog will be something that has been the topic of many of my mother's speeches: purity. 
The last thing I want to do in this blog is say, "My way is the right way and you guys are all going to regret it if you don't do what I do!" Un-uh. No sirree. I'm writing this because purity has become something that I value and treasure so much and I want to share a little bit of my journey in that area. Enough disclaimers, I trust you guys to know that I'm as weak and broken as the rest of the human race.

A friend told me a few months ago, "You know, we're signs and wonders to our generation because we're still virgins, happily single and living in purity. The majority of our generation can't say that." This is true because of the grace of God and His faithfulness to hem me in and guard my heart even when I didn't want to.

I don't remember how old I was when my mother first gave me "The purity talk" but I do remember I agreed with her. Praise God He gave me enough revelation to know that shallow church camp hook ups did more harm than good and that the girls that chased after the boys didn't really seem satisfied by the attention. So, at the ripe old age of 11, I developed my first serious crush. It wasn't the first boy that I had thought was cute (I'm pretty sure I thought all of my older brother's friends were cute when I was little) but this guy actually was nice to me. I was shy and awkward and extremely tiny, but this boy didn't look at me like I was a homeschooled freak, he looked at me like I was a friend. My heart couldn't ignore that. That was the beginning of a 3 year crush [I was serious 'bout that gangly little pre-adolescent boy] that I eventually got over and refused to allow my heart to go back to it. One of the reasons was because my best friend started liking the same guy and she was positive that he liked her. For the sake of preserving my heart, I let it go and thought, "I'm 14 now. I don't need these stupid immature crushes anymore."
My intentions were noble and if I could go back in time as a 23 year old, I would give myself a hug and then sit my little self down and say, "Okay, girl, we gotta talk because you want to do this whole purity thing, but it's going to take a lot more than just saying no. You need to understand your heart." I didn't know as a 14 year old why I was so attracted to boys, why I wanted them to notice me, why I was willing to do things that my heart despised [flirting] for the sake of attention. I didn't know the way that God had so carefully and wonderfully put me together with that desire deep on the inside to be pursued.  I thought I was malfunctioning with all the feelings inside of me longing to be in a relationship when really I was just being a woman. The commitments I had made to live in purity as a 14 year old girl when my parents gave me my first purity ring (it later broke and they had to buy me a new one) didn't just cover my actions, they covered my thoughts and my heart as well, This coupled with the fact that I did like boys and was attracted to them even when I tried so hard to "crush the crush" caused a lot of tension in my young teenage years.
When I was 15, I met one of the most upstanding teenage boys I have encountered in my life and bam, I was hopelessly attracted to him. I used to cry and pray that God would take those feelings and turn them into feelings for God because I didn't want to like this boy but, dad gum-it, I really liked him! These feelings also lasted for years (with a few interruptions.) and eventually I had to decide I wasn't being a bad person by being attracted to the young man. I had to come to terms with the fact that there was nothing wrong with thinking a good-looking boy was good-looking or realizing that an amazing boy is amazing. I could have liked many a more stupid person but I didn't and I had to realize that God wasn't mad at me for being attracted to a young man that looked a lot like the man I had been dreaming of since I was a little girl. In realizing that, however, I still had to choose to keep my thoughts and my heart pure and continue to give up my feelings for that young man unless God gave him to me as my husband. Seeing as he is now engaged and I'm still single, I'm sure you can put two and two together.
I am so grateful for those times of surrender to the Lord. I am so grateful I didn't just let myself go wild and attach myself to him even more than I did. Yes, I did like him and there were times when I was not pure in my thoughts and intentions toward him but those times were always followed by a recommitting of my heart to purity and waiting faithfully for my future husband.

Things got more complicated as I grew up (can I get an amen?). I began to swallow the lie that having crushes were okay. My deep-seated conviction of knowing that crushing  on someone was lust got booted out of the way because my selfish sinful desires wanted to be placated. I wanted to be like the other girls. I didn't want to be the party pooper at the slumber party who said, "Guys, this is a serious sin." It's not a harmless girl thing. We, as women, need to honour men as brothers and the husband of someone else. If I were to walk into a room of people talking about how my husband did this and that and he said blah blah blah and he was so hot and they wanted to be with him, I would not be impressed. In fact, I would probably get angry and start freaking out on them all. Yet I did it so many times about all sorts of boys. No, they weren't married then but some of them are now and some of them will be later but none of them will be married to me. One day I'll have to stand before God and answer for all the times I dishonoured young men in the way that I spoke about them. What will my excuse be?
When I was around 17 and 18 years old I began praying, "God, I want my emotions and my thoughts and my heart to be a pure as my wedding dress symbolizes on the day of my marriage." I didn't want to just get to the alter and say, "Hey, I'm so awesome, I didn't kiss anybody or cross the line or lose any part of my purity!" but on the inside I had lusted after hundreds of men, including the man I was going to marry. To me, that's not purity. Physical purity is important, of course, that's why I have guarded it so jealously these last 23 years of my life. But being emotionally pure is just as important, if not more so. Sometimes I dislike the fact the my imagination is so good because I can make up a story line that involves me marrying any guy I choose in my head. Then I realized that doing that now, as a single girl, will make it easier for me to do that later, as a married woman. How could I look my husband in the eye and say, "Well, in my head I married three people, just because I wanted to know what it would be like." Heck. No. 


Emotional purity is tough. I've read books and the bible and prayed and had accountability and it's still tricky. But I've set my heart on it and it's so much easier now to say no to fantasizing about that upstanding young man that looks a lot like the man I've been dreaming of since I was a little girl. I know how important it will be to me to know that my future husband committed to not lusting after other girls while he is single. I want to do the same as I pray for him to wait for me. It's a choice and it's not the easy one but it is one that God will see and honour.

Love,
Me

The Story of Esther

Hello blog audience,

Today's blog is going to be about a girl that has influenced me beyond what I even know. I wish that I could know this girl, spend a day with her and know everything she did because she is obviously amazing. I want to stand in her shoes, know what she set her heart on and what her thoughts were. How did she carry herself? How did she show love? How did she honour those in her life? What in the world was Esther's secret?

Let's be real folks, this story is absolutely fascinating. 

It's not every little girl that can be an orphan one day and then taken in to have a chance at being the wife of the king of the biggest empire in the history of the world. [I don't actually know if that is true...] You gotta have something pretty dang special to win the attention of a man who has had probably thousands of beautiful young virgins paraded in front of him for months and make him think, "Wait a second! I like this one!" What in the world did she do? I mean, obviously she was beautiful [this is a biblically noted fact.] and she had the help of the head eunich, Hegai, but really, guys, what did she do????  
Am I the only one that is intrigued by the spaces between the lines and wish I could go back to that day in time and see the way Esther met the king/ Was she scared? Was she smiling? Was her heart pounding so hard that the king could hear it? Did she know she was going to be chosen? Did she want to be chosen?

As much as I ponder those questions I do know at least one thing that Esther did. This verse gets me every time,
" ²⁰ Esther... was still following Mordecai’s directions, just as she did when she lived in his home."

This was after our girl was queen. This was after she had left Mordecai's house. I remember reading that and for the first time really reading it and the spirit of conviction fell on me something fierce.

Back in 2008, I was in a marriage swirl (translation: all I thought about was getting married.) and I can't remember if it was my mom that suggested it or if I just decided but Esther became my go to book. Now the marriage swirls come and go but the theme of honoring those in authority over me still jumps out each time I go back to study the life of Esther. Back then, I was 20 years old and was living with my parents as a young adult who had already been out on her own. I still did as they asked but my heart posture was often not one of respect towards them. As Jesus continued to reveal the rebellion in my heart and set my heart on the path of the 5th commandment, I was struck by how little my generation honours those in authority over us.

OBEYING OUR PARENTS AND HONOURING THEIR AUTHORITY OVER US DOES NOT HAVE AN EXPIRATION DATE.


I can't tell you how many young people that I know and admire have this skewed perspective of, "Well, I'm 18 so I can make my own decision." Yes, legally you have the ability to do many things when you turn 18 but it doesn't make you immune to one of the 10 commandments. This is pride.

I am writing this blog because God has spent the last 4 years digging this lie out of my heart and showing me how wrong it is to think that listening to my parents end the night before my 18th birthday.  This was a rough journey because I am a prideful person. I was excited that I was an adult and I didn't have to follow all the household rules anymore. I was convinced that permission was not needed from my parents. And in some instances, it wasn't. I was a responsible adult who was capable of making my own decisions. Honouring my parents for all the years they spoke into my life, however, didn't always come into the decision making equation.

What if my generation began honouring those in authority over us. Not just doing what they say but really truly setting our hearts to serve them and respect them simply because they are in authority over us. That doesn't mean that everything they say is right or that everything they do is perfect or that they'll never hurt you (intentionally or unintentionally, people hurt others.) but God doesn't say, "Find a perfect boss/pastor/teacher and then honour their authority over your life." We're all broken but God puts those He wants in authority over others in their positions and we have to make the decision to respect them.

In our day and age, simply obeying your parents as a minor in their home is not found in many families. They show rebellion as being cool in movies and TV shows, they make it okay to lie to parents and be deceptive. They portray those in authority as stupid and unworthy of our respect. This is not okay with me. 


Shifting back to Esther; She honoured Mordecai who adopted her. That's a pretty straight-up guy. As far as I know, he didn't have a wife and they didn't have any other family around. They might have but they weren't written about so I don't technically know. A single man, raising a girl has to be challenging and I'm sure Morgecai did not get it all right. Yes, Esther honoured him in his house and out of his house because he was in authority over her.
Esther also honoured and respected Hegai, the head over the harem. Let's be honest, eunichs are not normal people. It's not their own fault, I know, but what would it be like to be taken into this harem with who knows how many other girls that are all beautiful and virgins and all wanting to be the queen of Persia and be placed under the authority of... an "it"? But somehow, in the midst of all the drama and cat-fights (we all know it happened), Esther caught that eunich's eye and he snatched her up and set her on the fast track to being the next queen of the biggest kingdom of the world.
Maybe it was because she said thank you.
Maybe she didn't sass back.
Maybe her actions spoke louder than her words.

I don't know about you, but I want to be the kind of girl that turns the head of a king who could have any young woman in the world. I want to be the kind of girl that sets my heart to honour those God puts in authority over me and is admired by everyone who sees me. Do you know someone who is admired by every person that sees them? It's a stunning thing and it's usually because that person has set their heart to be humble and serve those around them. It's so easy to love a person that comes up under you and says, "I'll go low so that you can go higher." What if we did that for our parents? Even when we don't agree with them. I want to be the kind of girl that is a nobody and becomes a girl that saves a nation because everyone who saw her was impressed.

Love,
Me

[Most of you might be thinking that with this much interest in the story of Esther I must love the movie, "A night with the king." This is a false and totally unrelated topic. I actually didn't like the movie very much at all.]

Why consecration is beautiful

Dear blog audience,

I started this blog mainly for my sister who is in Colorado and was curious about some of the things that have been happening in my heart. I told her, "I'll have to tell you a story about what is happening sometime." and she said, "Why don't you start a blog?"
She actually just stirred up an old passion of mine and gave me the kick in the butt to sit down start blogging again. It's been a long time since I blogged regularly on my old Xanga blog (although I have updated it more recently than you might think) so I can't make any promises that I will write regularly but I do hope that no matter the regularity of it all, that it glorifies Jesus.

Beautiful Consecration
How did I come up with the name for my blog? Not easily, my friend. And I'm not talking about how hard it was to pick a name. I'm talking about how hard it was to finally see beauty in consecration. Let me define the two words for you...

Consecration
"a solemn commitment of your life or your time to some cherished purpose" - WordNet Dictionary

Beautiful
"Having the qualities which constitute beauty; pleasing to the sight or the mind." - Websters Dictionary 


Let me be clear about something in this very first entry: Consecration was not pleasing to me. It didn't feel good and to make the circumstances even more interesting, I didn't choose to be consecrated. I really didn't. A lot of people in my school (International House Of Prayer University) had seasons of consecration where they purposefully did not enter into a relationship because God had asked them to set aside that season to be single. I was not like them. I used to be so chuffed with the fact that I was 22 years old when I started school and therefore old enough to have a relationship. Praise God that in His infinite wisdom, He knew that my heart wasn't ready for these things they call relationships and and boyfriends. He knew that there was so much left for Baylea to learn without the distraction of learning how to fall in love on top of everything else. So God consecrated me. It was about a year ago when my mom told me that she had been praying for me and told me that God had told her that I was in a time of consecration. "But I didn't consecrate myself." I told her. "Well, God consecrated you for yourself. He's hiding you so that no one will pursue you until it's time."
Perfect. I thought sarcastically. My mom is always right.
This time was no exception. For a very long time (Okay, for the first few months) I tried really hard to get noticed. I would see an upstanding young man and think, "Wow, he's super awesome, I'm going to see if he'll like me." Nope. Not even a little bit. All I got was the painful little sting in my heart from the conviction of the Holy Spirit telling me to shape up and behave. There was not a single young man in the entire IHOP-KC community that seemed to be interested in me. I was baffled.

That was last year. This year I rejoice in my consecration. There still seem to be no young men interested in me but something has switched inside of my heart. No, I did not suddenly like being single but I am so humbled by the fact that God would see the poor state of my heart and do what was best for me to make me fruitful and alive in love. Even though I kicked and screamed against this, He patiently and faithfully led me through each day, giving grace when I didn't ask for it and bringing revelation to my heart. Little by little, this merciful Man has melted me. This last semester of school was such a sweet time of connecting with the Lord in a whole new way because I embraced my consecration. I am so thankful that God hid me away and gave me a season of intimacy with Him. My consecration has became pleasing to me as I realize what God has worked in me and through me. I never thought I could grow so much and find so much joy in being single but here I am.

I'm blogging my journey of consecration and eventually, I hope, of meeting the young man that God has been preparing me for. Whatever happens, it will be a journey of falling deeper in love.

Love,
Me