The comfort of my Father- capital F

I gotta tell you, I'm not really a beach person. Sure, I can appreciate the beauty of a beach, the serenity of the waves and the warmth of the sun-for about a day or two. Then my body remembers the fairness of my skin and I search for any shade I can get. I am lucky enough to be babysitting here in Gulf Shores for a great family with two beautiful girls. I am also lucky enough to be watching an almost two year old who takes naps daily in the condo-out of the sun, so I get a break too!

Anyway, onto the point of this blog post. Yesterday I was taking care of Emma who had just woken up from a nap. As she was getting comfy on my lap, still a little tired, I was thinking how I was at that point, not her mother or father, completely in charge of her comfort and well being. Now after a while she stared yelling out for her mom and dad and as soon as she caught sight of them she ran towards them wanting the comfort and security they provided.

Have you ever heard (and not laughed after) someone call you a 'child of God'? In high school my group used to throw this phrase around jokingly because it just seems so-vacation bible school. But as I was acting as a pillow for Emma yesterday I finally understood what it meant. As humans we are given all these temporary forms of comfort and temporary solutions for our well being. I have parents, friends, an education, favorite hobbies, music, coffee (and maybe a glass of red wine every once in a while). All these things and more are found on Earth to keep me comforted. But every once in a while I find myself screaming out for my Father-with a capital F. I reach out for the comfort only He can provide. While I'm here on Earth that may mean prayer, a good bible verse, a church service or it may mean the angst of Him reminding me that His timing is perfect, and while different from my own, is something I just have to rely on. 

The beauty of it all, what makes life worth living, is that there comes a time that the angst is relieved. We, as Christians, do eventually get the unending comfort of being in the presence of our Father-with a capital F. Just as Travis and Laura believed I'd be a good enough fit to provide comfort for their children this week, God is providing us with what we need to survive this 'vacation' here on Earth, all the while knowing it is temporary. 

As I'm drinking my coffee this morning (with the kiddos watching Mickey Mouse, Travis out fishing somewhere and Laura hopefully having a relaxed morning) I am reminded that the serenity found in the sound of the waves and the beauty of the beach is yet another temporary comfort my God has provided for me. If all these comforts are a temporary fix, I cannot wait to see what the permanent solution feels like. 

(As this post is coming out right after Father's Day, I'd like to point out that my father- the most important lowercase f around, has provided me with the most loving, temporary comfort a girl could ask for!)

Serenity in Silence is harder that it seems

Some people DREAM of the last week that I have had. All the time in the world, the house practically to myself, with time to sleep, read, drink coffee, do yoga, (binge watch Netflix), all with a good dog by my side and no guilt for not doing something more productive.

Like I said, some people would dream of this week. I thought I did...but it's turning out to be somewhat of a nightmare. I am grateful to be finished with school, but ready to move on to my next challenge!

One of the books I have read since graduation is Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle. Boyle is a Jesuit priest in the 'gang capital of the world' who shares stories of the Homeboys and Homegirls who he helped get away from the gang life and into the 'real world'. He has some great insight into what serving the community in need is like-something I am trying to prepare myself for-hence the reading of the book.

Among the stories of those Boyle helps, he writes bits about himself. In one bit he discusses how at the beginning of his work he fully immersed himself into the issues of the neighborhoods. His work was constant. Boyle writes, he was getting too close to the sun-"the immolation that comes from burning out completely in the delusion of actually 'saving people'." Now this section made me stop and laugh because it's relatability.  In Social Work we are warned of 'burning out' as Boyle speaks of. We are warned to not take on more than we can handle, to reach out for similar help we will often suggest to our clients. The irony here is the reason most of us get into Social Work is because we care too much. Yes, we learn we can't change the world but that often won't stop us from trying.

After composing myself I pick the book back up and continue to read. Boyle talks about his own difficulty with taking breaks (something I relate too way too easily) and specifically about one he took in 1992. The serenity he found in the break came from an apocryphal story of Pope John Paul XXIII. Now if you're anything like me you had to look up what apocryphal meant( so maybe my vocabulary needs some work). After figuring out that it meant a doubtful but widely shared story I read on. Apparently the Pope would go to bed and pray "I've done everything I can today for Your church. But it's Your church. And I'm going to bed."

At some point we, Social Worker or not, have to figure out when to call it. When to give it up to God. Let His will take over. My Social Work classes were correct, we can't save the world if it means trying to impart on God's plans. What we can do is put our good hands to work and follow His will. At the end of each day though, we have to wipe those hands clean of others' burdens before they become our own-before we get too close to the sun.

The best part of helping someone is seeing the results you hope for come to fruition, maybe this is similar to the joy God feels when we trust in His plan. However, just as God doesn't make anyone believe in Him, I can't make anyone ask for my help. Believing that I can is what causes so much angst at the end of the day. I can though, be there when they do realize they need help-just as God does. This prevents me from burning out but still let's me feel like I've helped someone.

So while I still constantly remind myself to enjoy the serenity of having a break, which after the last year of school that I had is surely much needed, I also need to remember that when I do find myself immersed in situations of a needy community, I cannot carry anyone else's cross. At the end of the day, I want to be able to tell God in my prayers, "I did what I could today in Your world, but it is Your world and I am going to bed."

A peak into the next chapter of life

His timing is incredible. Absolutely incredible. 

     My last post talked about waiting for my shell to crack. It was about how I was losing steam, wanting someone to tell me what to do for the next year, rather than seeing how far I've come. Less than 3 hours after I posted that, I had a potential job offer. One that has progressed into an official job offer that I have just officially accepted!

Let me explain...

My Lenten observance was to go to church every Sunday to get back into a Catholic community that I had been missing. The first Sunday I went to church I heard of a website that connected me to different Catholic organizations offering volunteer opportunities of differing service lengths. On a whim I applied for a year long position with the Augustinian Volunteers. That Sunday I was praying for direction (like always). The day of my last blog post was the day they would be going over my application. After reviewing my references (a huge thank you to those who helped me out!) and application they sent me an email saying they believed I would be a good fit for a non-profit organization in Philadelphia.  I interviewed with the director in Philadelphia this week and a couple hours later they sent me an official job offer! Like I said-God's timing is incredible.

Now let me explain what I'll be doing during my year of service!

The organization is in South Philly and is called "Augustinian Defenders of the Rights of the Poor". You can check out their website here. I start in August and finish up on site in June. As the Administrative Coordinator I get to be involved in a lot different areas of the community. They are involved with different school activities like after school tutoring and ESL programs. They have a health clinic within the building and promote different social justice programs. All of these areas interest me so very much and I cannot wait to see what else I get to do!

I feel so great about saying yes to a year of service. I feel great about God's timing. After all the feelings of uncertainty and anxiety stemming from what I'd be doing come May 11th, I feel confident that this is all part of His plan. He provided me with what I needed-at what He knew was perfect timing.

The more people I tell, the more it hits me-I'm going to a completely foreign city next year doing something completely new. Many people have told me how brave I am for taking this "leap of faith", but truthfully, it doesn't feel like too big of a jump. Maybe because I am comforted knowing it was God's work and maybe because I love discovering a new city. He has more great things planned for me and I am so excited to keep discovering His will.

As I asked before going to Ghana, I am not asking for prayers of safety next year, but prayers that I can continue relying on God's plan.

I can't believe it! My shell is cracking!

The struggle to survive

So for Lent I vowed to go to church every Sunday. I know I know, as a good Catholic this shouldn't be something that I need Lent to make me do but I found myself needing some sort of external motivation and Lent was it. I admit, there was a weekend or two in there that I missed, which I tried to make up for by listening to a few online homilies by Father Gary in St. Louis. Yesterday though, Palm Sunday, I found myself in the second row pew at the Catholic church here. It was great.

The homily started with a metaphor of a young girl watching baby chicks hatch from an egg. She noticed all but one had fully hatched and the one that hadn't was struggling with cracking out of its shell. So like any good little girl would do she helped it out and finished opening the egg for the little chick, not knowing that it wouldn't survive. She went back to her mom wondering why the chick didn't live. Her mother explained that it is the struggle a little chick has to crack the egg that makes it strong enough to survive later on.

The priest related this struggle and desire for help to come from Christ. We want Him to do all the hard work. If He is the son of God, shouldn't He be able to?

But this hard work, this struggle, is what gives our spirit the strength to survive in the material world. I cannot tell you how many times I have spoken with friends in the last few months about how I just wish I could know where I will end up after graduation. I don't want to do the hard work anymore. I have even asked my mom to find me a job(she wishes she could sometimes).

It's hard to see more and more friends find out their plans for the next year or so. It's hard being told by organizations I've applied to that there isn't room for me. It's hard counting down the days until May 10 when I am no longer a student. It is hard to not regret my decision to go or even apply to grad school-then maybe I would have a plan.

With each rejection though, I know my shell is cracking a little more. I just wish God would have given me an easier shell to crack.

It is easy for me to cover up my fears by telling people "I can't wait to see where God takes me" but it is freaking hard to actually believe that. I admit, I am getting a little frustrated with God and His timing. I am beyond excited for my friends who are finding out where they'll be for the next part of their life, but it sometimes just makes me more unsure of my actions. I could've applied to more places. I could have made more contacts in college. I could have done more to secure a job or placement as soon as I graduate.

I have been so focused lately on what I could have done more of that I kind of forgot all of what I have achieved. God sees that and has been trying to send me little reminders-of which I am trying to dwell on rather than on what more I could have done.

Yesterday at church I sat next to a man and his wife. He had no idea who I was, he still doesn't. When the priest was giving his homily he mentioned how as college seniors we must be wishing God could break us out of our shell (he sure hit the nail on the head). As soon as he said this, the man next to me saw that I had a smirk on my face, confirming I knew what the priest was talking about. At the end of church the man asked me what I was studying. I told him my long list and he said "wow, you must be smart." At this I laughed and said "well, I try" and it felt like before I even finished what I was saying he was shaking his head say "no, no, no, don't you cut yourself short, you have to be smart." At that moment, he pulled to something to the forefront I couldn't see because I had been focusing on everything I was lacking. I smiled and said thank you, little did he know he made me remember something I had forgotten. He made my day.

I am smart. And I have worked HARD for my degree. To that end, I will be honored before graduation at a Phi Beta Kappa sorority ceremony for those in a humanities degree who are in the top 10% of their class taking a diverse coarse load. I also just found out that I will get to wear a special tassel as a Fulbright Senior Scholar-meaning I have kept a 3.8 cumulative GPA. Who doesn't love a special tassel??

I still can't say I am fully comfortable with God's timing. Even after I figure out the next stage of my life I am sure I will find something to worry about. But that's me. I have been given a tough shell to crack for a reason and I need to remember that I am working on my strength. If God were to do all the work, I wouldn't be able to survive. As I have said in this blog before, God didn't promise an easy life, but He did promise a full one.

Inch by inch my shell is cracking and I need to remember to see my progress before my set backs. It is in my progress that I find my strength.

The power of a letter to God.

As I was taking a mental health break today from all the reading I've been doing lately(it never ends!), I caught up on some blogs. I found one a friend posted that caught my eye. It was titled "Confessions of a Christian That Still Struggles"It hit really close to home. I couldn't help but think God directed me.

Last semester I struggled, a lot. I started doing something new. Something I need to do more often. On a night where I was just about as overwhelmed as I thought I could be, I picked up my Bible and journal, stopped to get a cup of coffee(decaf of course) and just drove. I drove to Mount Sequoia. It has a great view of Fayetteville's landscape. It is the place I go to when all my problems seem bigger than me. When my emotions seem to take over. It has become my spot. Seeing the landscape of Fayetteville with all the buildings looking minuscule, their lights making the city so magical, brings me peace.

It reminds me that in the whole scheme of things, my problems are tiny. I am tiny. And my God is huge.

So there I was, car in park, coffee and journal in hand. I just started to write. Anything that came to my mind I wrote it down. Some good, some bad. Sentences, phrases, words. If the thought came through my head again I would circle them. Eventually I wrote a letter. To who? God, probably. I'm not really sure.

As I have been brutally honest on this blog in the past, I will today. The letter started out "Before and currently, I have this desire, this passion, to be known as the girl with struggles but put together. The independent, working-it-out-with-God, ever-promising, always looking for the positives girl. I want to be looked at and envious of how together I am..."

Fast forward to today. The blog that I mentioned above is brutally honest. It is of a girl who has faced struggle, a girl who has cried out to the Lord, asking to be given undeserving love and grace-multiple times. She talks of this idea many people have that as a Christian you really only ever can hit rock bottom once, then God takes over. She talks about how she didn't experience that. She hit rock bottom more than once.

Living for Christ is a constant struggle with an incredible feeling of satisfaction-if you can actually feel it. I love how she says "once we surrender (our lives to Christ), the enemy hops on us...trying to suffocate any peace and life that was so freely given to us..." The constant struggle I feel as a Christian is from said suffocation. I encounter things daily that tempt me. There are times when I successfully overcome the temptation and admittedly times when I give in. But isn't that what makes me human? And what makes God SO good? He accepts me despite my downfalls.

It's times when I remember that there is NOTHING, not even denouncing His existence, that could make my God stop loving me. Even if I fail, even if I turn away from Him, He will always have His eye on me. He will always be ready to forgive and give love. As the blogger says, "That love, that grace, is what gives me strength to fight my flesh and choose to live for Him. Not out of fear or obligation, but because His love and grace is so full force regardless."

I still have times when I feel overwhelmed. Last night I picked up my Bible and notebook and just wrote. Some good, some bad. Sentences, phrases, words. Then a letter. To who? God, probably.

And you know what? He was still listening.

He directed me today to a blog that confirmed I wasn't the only one feeling overwhelmed with worldly desires. To a blog that reminds me that it's okay to struggle as a Christian. To a blog that told me I'm not the only one that desires to be seen at as put together even when I'm not. To a blog that said I don't have to be put together to be seen as a strong Christian. It is the strength in admitting that struggle that makes me one. It is the strength in remembering to accept His undeserving love that makes me an accomplished follower.

So I admit to you today that I struggle. Constantly. But as I admit that, I find my strength.

Far from the straight and narrow.

Another (partial) snow day, another blog post. I realize this is the first blog post of my LAST semester of undergrad. Scary to think that I started this blog my sophomore year!! I've been trying to stay focused seeing as my last semester of school has arguably the most difficult courses yet. Whoever said senior year would be a breeze lied to me, or maybe they just didn't expect for me to be graduating on time with a combined major and double minor! In my mother's words, I'm "her favorite overachiever".

Anyway. I thought I would share some thoughts on how God has been working hard as I look back on my four years here.

Four years ago:

"Hi, my name is Abby MacDonald, I'm a freshman Psychology major from Saint Louis. I will be graduating in 2014 and going to get my masters in education so I can teach high school students from an at-risk, low income background." 

I had it ALL figured out. God worked on that plan with me of course, why else would He have put Young Life in my life? Why else would I have found my deep interest in Psychology from my high school psych class? That's who I was planning on being and I was happy about it. For goodness sakes I practically looked like a teacher already-cardigans and all. God was there for me and He was leading me down the straight and narrow path. Or so I thought.

A year ago:

"Hi, my name is Abby MacDonald I am a Psychology major and Social Work and African and African American Studies double minor. I will be going to grad school (not sure why yet) and will be working in the school system most likely." 

Today:

"Hi, my name is Abby MacDonald, I'm a senior combined major in Psychology and African and African American Studies with a double minor in Social Work and Anthropology. Yes I did pick up three areas of study within the last year and a half, yes I WILL be graduating on time and no I will NOT be going to grad school right away. I'm not sure exactly what I want to do but I want to find a connection to somewhere in Africa."

All this is not said to brag (although I think my parents like to brag a little bit and my sisters bored of me having to explain what I'm studying), it is said to point out that what I thought and planned on to be the straight and narrow path God set out for me was far from it. He is still working. At least I hope He is because I'm graduating in less than 100 days and still have no plan set in place for what happens after I throw my cap into the air. I know I've said it on this blog before, but God sure does have a sense of humor. He is showing me just how many twists and turns I can take. Along with the fact that those twists and turns can be fun if I let them be.

Want some more humor from God? This summer I was at my sister's wedding shower talking with Father Gary who would be marrying Kelley and Matt in no time and he asked me what I was studying. After taking a deep breath and listing what I was studying his first reaction was different than most. He said he was somewhat surprised because Psychology and Anthropology are the two areas of study with  the highest numbers of Atheists. I'm pretty sure he's right. It makes sense after some of the classes I've taken-religion doesn't necessarily sit right with some of the theories and ideas.

I was talking with my mom about the fact that I am taking a course this semester to study the modernization of Witchcraft in Africa-not really an ideal topic in my mom's opinion. I'll admit, it is a little strange that I have chosen two relatively secular areas of study. But I thrive in studying the unknown. I so much enjoy studying what makes me different, or more similar, to a group of people that I didn't know about in the past. I think a good Christian does their research. In my opinion, not studying different ways of life and the benefits of such would lead me down an ignorant path. I don't say that to make Christians who don't know the ins and outs of witchcraft look bad, but for me, I want to do my research. I want to share what I've learned and make a connection back to my faith. I love finding God in unexpected places, and for me-that means studying as many different cultures and way of life as I can.

So there you have it folks. I'm still unsure of what will come after May 10th, but God is teaching me slowly but surely that it's okay. He's gotten me through these last four years, okay truthfully the last 21 years of my life, but I can't wait to see where He takes me from here on out.

What do Frankl, Mandela, a dog, and Jesus all have in common?

What a better time to cozy up with a warm cup of coffee, a blanket and my computer to write a blog post than when I'm snowed in?? The town of Fayetteville has essentially shut down because of a little less than a foot of snow, so it has given me ample time to study, sleep, and put some thought into this blog post. 

A lot has happened in the past week. Along with studying for some pretty difficult finals I have had to say goodbye to my sweet dog, Billy, who was the best pet a person could ask for. I've also been following the news about the death of Nelson Mandela, one of the most influential people from the continent of Africa, and maybe the world. I've also been thinking a lot about my relationship with God. I know all of these things don't necessarily seem to connect right now, but let me share with you something that will make it all make some more sense. 

“In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice."-Victor Frankl

Still no connections? Okay let me elaborate. Victor Frankl is one of the people I had to study for my final in my psychology class. He studied how people in concentration camps during World War II were more likely to survive if they found meaning in the lives of people around them, even if that meant giving a child their only blanket in the cold, or a stranger the only piece of bread they had. An amazing finding, right? I then started to think about how much Mandela must have suffered in his 95 years of life. He was in prison for longer than I've been alive. He became truly famous on an international level at the age when most people are retired. He lost a son to AIDS (many times people look over/don't know this fact). In all his suffering though, he found meaning. He became the president and worked for HIS people. More than that, he pushed for non-violence, which is hard to do in a corrupt world. He confronted his son's death and supported education for his people about the risks associated with HIV/AIDS. In his last few months and days on this physical earth, he suffered immensely. But I have a feeling he didn't dwell on the pain. He found meaning in his world. In our world. Not all of us can be a Nelson Mandela, but shouldn't we try?

And about Billy, sweet Billy. My entire family (and some of my friends) can attest to how much that dog was loved, and how much he meant to each of us. He may not have been a human, but a loss is still a loss. Having to accept his trip to heaven got me thinking. As I have learned in my class called "On Death and Dying" (what a semester to be taking this course..) it's normal for one loss to spark the memory of other hardships. It is not something I tend to brag about or share very often, but I have faced a fair amount of loss in my life-suffering if you will. It would be so easy to kind of give up and take on a negative view of the world. But for some internal reason, my heart and my head won't allow me to do that. I've come to think that internal reason is God. Pushing me towards knowing there's something better ahead, I just have to keep going. 

My sister, Maggie sent out a great email the other day, in the wake of dealing with Billy's loss that shared what she learned from a book by Joel Osteen. It read, "When facing a crisis, it is easy to fall apart, but what you don't realize is that that crisis is not a surprise to God, he knows the end from the beginning." That is exactly true. It sums it all up. God didn't promise an easy life, but he did promise full one. He promised that He knew what was and is to come. We just have to chose to follow Him. 

Let's talk about the ultimate sacrifice. Jesus. You could say He dealt with a fair amount of suffering in His life and you would be right. But in the end we see that Jesus found meaning in sacrifice. He says in John 19:30 "It is finished." Perhaps the most telling words in the Bible. "It" being his job. His job-being the ultimate sacrifice sent by God. 

So there you have it. The above train of thought is what happens when you take 11 inches of snow, a tad bit of studying, CNN, and a lot of extra time to think about things and you put it all together into one blog post. I hope the connection of Frankl, Mandela, Billy and Jesus all make sense now. 

I also hope that each person reading this can find meaning in their life to cease any suffering. It is a really hard thing to do, I know. But we have to at least try. Look at how successful Mandela was in doing so.