Thursday, July 24, 2014

From My Seat at the Feast to My Place in the Dirt

My heart has been stolen, and I don’t want it back.

 The University of Alabama has awoken a part of myself that I didn’t know existed. I have never been so in love with my life, so eager for engagement, so invested in the people around me, so adventurous, so uncomfortable, so strong, so emotional, so overwhelmed, so happy, so joyful, so at peace. The Capstone has brought me more laughter, happiness, and friendships than I could ever have imagined. My heart is held captive by my crimson and white life, it is filled with my new-found family and held in the hands of my Father.


Always Thankful, Forever Tuscaloosa.



The person I was in August and the person I am now, are strangers; resembling only in appearance. I have been chiseled, sculpted, and sanded into the woman I am now by the amazing group of people God has blessed me with. I will look back on my freshman year on this wonderful campus and smile. No monetary gain could ever compare to what this university has done for me. In a nine months, I have made friends that have become my family and will be in my life until the end of my time. I do not deserve any of the blessings in my life.  

There is no doubt in my mind that my freshman year at the University of Alabama has been the best year of my entire life; but, mountain tops are only attained from hiking out of low valleys. The two must exist together.  This year has been the most humbling year in  my walk with Christ. It has been made evident to me how I do not have my spiritual life in order near as much as I thought I did. With these harsh realizations have come unexplainable growth and confidence of my faith. This growth has been consistent and, I pray, will continue to be. None of this would have come about without the lessons I have learned so far in my journey at the Capstone.

A few weeks ago at the BCM (Baptist Campus Ministry), we had a Discovery (mid-week service) that was the "worship experience". The night was broken into stations; the names of God, confession, forgiveness, and reflection. In the confession station, I was in a dimly lit room surrounded by my family in Christ. Written on the blood red walls were sins that my Savior went to the cross for, sins that infiltrate my life and find refuge in my heart. I found myself knelt at a bench, speechless, seeking forgiveness through silence and tears. In the corner of the room was a cross; there we were asked to write one of our sins on paper and nail them to the cross. Three words came to heart: gossip, hatred, and self-righteousness. These three things have battled the thrown of my heart and every drop of that is less room for Christ to make His home in me. I have carried that night with me everyday, constantly remembering the shame I felt when I brought myself to the feet of Jesus. 

Entering the university, making my home at the BCM, and visiting new churches introduced a lie to me; a lie that I have believed. Every stranger I met, I stereotyped as being a perfect Christian; despite my biblical knowledge that that was not actually possible. I felt like all of my peers were much more mature in their faith that I am. Being around people with a desire to be Christ-like is new to me and so extremely humbling. I did not realize until the worship experience that I have put myself on a pedestal; I have fooled myself into believe that I am the rich woman eating from the table, when in reality, I am the homeless girl sitting on the cold, hard floor. I subconsciously built the strength of my faith up in my head because I was never involved in the debauchery of kids I grew up with. This year, more than any other time in my life, I realized that sin is not an action, it is of the heart. When we view sin as behavior modification, rather than an intoxication of the heart, we are entering a battle we are not prepared to win. I am the least of these; I am the least of the least of these.

I am a convict. I am the perpetrator in the case of my self-righteous demise. 

This summer, my checklist includes two classes, my sister's wedding, work at the rec center, family vacation, and a week at Spicy Grove Children's Villa in Jamaica. All the things are just that, things. I am challenging myself in a way that I have challenged myself a hundred times before; that being, spend quality time with God in scripture and prayer every day. If I am not growing, if I am not filled with the spirit, my daily mission will be ineffective. I cannot give what I do not have. I cannot overflow with Christ if I am running on fumes. If you're like me, I challenge you too. Not only do I challenge you to spend quality time with God everyday but I challenge you to cut things out of your life that are distracting you from the will of God. Both of these things are on my summer to-do list, and I pray for continuation throughout the rest of my life. This blog is a confession and a call to accountability. I do not know who reads these words (thank you, btw), but whoever you are, you know me somehow. Remind me of these words I wrote. 

God bless y'all.

He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heris having the hope of eternal life. -Titus 3:5-7


*I rarely write about my legitimate, blood family. I love them more than life itself. They mean more to me than anyone, except God. Without them, the life I lead would be nothing but a dream. 

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