new pastures.

One of the best things I did this past fall semester was read "A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23" by Phillip Keller. Ever chapter of the book warms my insides more than peppermint hot cocoa, but this particular passage has special meaning to me:

"Sheep are notorious creatures of habit. If left to themselves, they will follow the same trails until they become ruts; graze the same hills until they turn to desert wastes; pollute their own ground until it is corrupt with disease and parasites. Many of the world's finest sheep ranges have been ruined beyond repair by overgrazing, poor management, and indifferent or ignorant sheep owners...

No other class of livestock requires more careful handling, more detailed direction, than do sheep. No doubt David, as a shepherd himself, had learned this firsthand from tough experience. He knew beyond dispute that if the flock was to flourish and the owner's reputation was to be held in high esteem as a good manager, the sheep had to be constantly under his meticulous control and guidance... Because of the behavior of sheep and their preference of certain favored spots, these well-worn areas become quickly infested with parasites of all kinds. In a short time a whole flock can thus become infected with worms, nematodes and scab. The final upshot is that both land and owner are ruined while the sheep become thin, waste and sickly.

The intelligent shepherd is aware of all this. Not only just for the welfare of his sheep and the health of his land, but also for his own sake and reputation as a rancher, he must take the necessary precautions to safeguard against these adverse animal traits... The greatest single safeguard which a shepherd has in handling his flock is to keep them on the move. That is to say, they dare not be left on the same ground too long. They must be shifted from pasture to pasture periodically... There must be a predetermined plan of action, a deliberate, planned rotation from one grazing ground to another in line with right and proper principles of sound management. This is precisely the sort of action and the idea David had in mind when he spoke of being led in paths of righteousness."

here are a couple possible interpretations of this passage, but in my life, I saw this:

Mid-October, God threw a curveball in my plans to graduate Fall 2012, a semester early already, and presented me the opportunity to graduate in Spring 2012, a whole year early. It's a long story, but the choice was before me. In just the months before, I had been contemplating prolonging my original plans and staying in college the whole four years because I just wasn't ready to grow up, to move on from the college life I had finally become comfortable in -- I wanted to stay with my friends, keep moving up in leadership in the Navs, find my husband, graduate with my friends. And now God was giving me the choice to graduate even earlier. I debated for a couple days and spent a lot of time in prayer and seeking counsel.

And in the midst of all my panic, God's calm, gentle voice broke through the noise: "Karla, it's time for a new pasture. Time to move on. You don't know where you're going, you don't know where the next pasture will be, but it's going to be okay -- just follow Me."

I don't know where I'm going. I feel like a fake, a wanna-be senior. I will graduate a month before I turn 21. For some, this is no big deal. But it took me a long time to process, and I am still processing, still emotionally unprepared. But I know I have become too comfortable in my college bubble, and God's asking me to grow up now.

I'm not sure where the next pasture is, and I'm not going to sit around waiting for God to reveal it to me. I believe He will simply lead me, day by day. He has already given me the wisdom I need to make decisions, as I remain in Him. I am only praying that I will have the right motives for whatever decision I make, and that I will walk in righteousness. I am praying that He will open doors, that He will close doors, but that I won't determine closed doors based on my laziness. (If you haven't, read "Just Do Something" by Kevin DeYoung.)

So here's to my last semester of college, living in light of God's grace and faithfulness. I'm finally beginning to feel ready for this new pasture, and I'm happily following my Good Shepherd!

thick skin, soft heart (brother wounds)

I'm realizing what it means to have thick skin but a soft heart. Well, not because I'm learning what it's like to have those things, but the situations in which I need to have these things.

I'm going to peel back another layer of me: I seek approval of my 16-year-old brother.

Does that sound stupid? It does to me, but it doesn't make it any less true. We used to be close as kids, although I suppose most siblings are at that age. But now he doesn't want to spend time with me, talk to me, tell me what's going on in his life, or hear what's going on in my life. And I, hating conflict, am not okay with that. I asked him out on a "date" tonight; I would treat him to any restaurant he wanted -- to catch up, to spend time together. It's not an unusual thing, because we used to go out on "dates" my senior year of high school and when I would come home from college freshmen and sophomore year. But he didn't want to, even when I offered his favorite restaurant.

Things change, I know. When we were younger, we would make fun of each other all the time, explaining to my parents that it was okay because it was just the normal sibling rivalry. But now I've seen how it does hurt, and now I've outgrown it, but he still hasn't because he's four years younger. Also, he's going through new things in his life, and I really am blessed I have a brother who even makes small talk with me when we're among the rest of the family, a brother who will poke me in the sides really hard until it throbs and won't stop when I ask him to -- but at least it's attention, right? Could be his love language of sorts...

See how silly that all sounds? Who cares what my little brother thinks. For some reason, I do. This past Thanksgiving Break, my brother called me fat in not so nice words. I wouldn't normally take it so personally except that I was already feeling bad about myself, and he was relentless about it, refusing to apologize even when I began crying. That night was when I realized how much power my brother had over my feelings, over my security, over my self-esteem, over my heart. And I was giving Satan a foothold, allowing him to crowd my mind with lies: "Your brother would love you if you weren't so ugly, if you weren't so fat, if you weren't so boring, if you weren't so stupid." My counselor (rather, the woman I am meeting with at the Navigators PRT) told me to read these chapters on "Healing Mother Wounds" and "Healing Father Wounds." Can I get a "Healing Brother Wounds" chapter too?

Another thing is, I can see how this affects my friendships with men. And with my brother being one of the few men (boys) in my life, his approval and love means a lot to me. And this need/desire in me and the emotions that come with the lack of it being filled always overwhelms the fact that my brother has a life of his own and his own stuff he's going through that may have nothing to do with me.

When some relationship goes sour or has some kind of kink in it, I always assume it's my fault. There's something I'm doing wrong, something I'm not getting. And I feel restless about it because I feel there's always something I can do to make it better.

I don't know if that's the case with my brother, other than working on loving him better through my actions and the things I say. But I know I can't push for a closer relationship if that's not where he's at right now (even if, in my mind, I'm always doubting whether I just poorly worded my question to hang out with him or didn't come from the appropriate angle or choose the most effective approach, etc.).

So all that is to say: have a thick skin, but a soft heart. Don't give Satan a foothold. You're not fat. You're not ugly. You're not boring. You're not stupid. Be secure in Christ, not in the love you want from your brother. Keep things in perspective, and remember not everything has everything to do with you and what you could be doing wrong. And sometimes you're not doing anything wrong. Learn to be okay with leaving things alone, and letting people grow for a while, including yourself. God is sovereign and cares more about these relationship than you do, so stop worrying. Stop trying to control everything and everyone.

This is the advice I am giving myself tonight.

...and a time to be silent

How do you stop feeling? Sometimes I get so tired of it.

I would say being an INFJ (look up Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator) sometimes really frustrates me. But that sounds like I'm trying to define myself, which honestly gives me a sense of comfort. But to save the excuses and comfort, I'll just say that being me sometimes really frustrates me.

I'm normally good at reading people -- at least, when it comes to reading their comfort level, hurt, motives, etc. (Disclaimer: There are times when I suck at it too).  But for the most part, I can read people. And I feel for people. And when there is conflict, I just want to fix it. If I can see two people are not getting along, especially when I know both sides of the conflict, I want so badly to mediate and fix the relationship. My heart is heavy until the conflict is resolved.

Conflict often upsets me so much to the point that I feel sick. I can't deal with it. I have to have closure. I have to explain myself. I have to communicate.

And I take personal offense when others don't want to communicate with me, because I take it to mean that they don't care about me or my relationship with them. I can't understand it, why anyone wouldn't want to get things out in the open, communicate, talk things out, understand each other. My life is an open book, and I just really wish everyone was like that. Does that sound selfish? I want everyone to be like me? Probably. It would probably create a lot of chaos. But I believe expressing what's on our hearts instead of sweeping it under the rug would result in a lot of healing and better relationships as well.

And that's the thing. Most people seem fine with sweeping conflict under the rug, pretending it didn't happen. But I can't do that. I hate insincerity. I hate being fake with people. If I am upset about something, I don't want to pretend I'm not. If something you're doing bothers me, I don't want to pretend it doesn't.

So there's good that comes from feeling a lot. A few examples include: I can easily sympathize, I am easily motivated to help others, I am often fairly quick to confront issues instead of harboring anger, and I am quick to express what's on my heart (including struggles), which normally leads others to feel comfortable enough to open up as well -- and I've seen God do wonders with those situations.

But there's the bad too. I can be impulsive and confront issues that shouldn't be confronted yet (or should never be confronted), I am extremely introspective and feel the need to control everything that goes on inside my heart and mind, I am very easily offended, I over think/analyze every situation, and it's very difficult for me to forgive people until they know how they have wronged me and have apologized for it.

That last one has been hitting me hard lately. Because I have such a need for closure and communication and sincerity, I almost never truly forgive anyone until we have talked it out, and usually they need to apologize -- and then I can forgive them. I don't feel at peace until they know how they have hurt me, and I have done all I can to make amends.

But this morning, God reminded me of how Jesus asked His Father to forgive His trespassers, "for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). Jesus asked His Father to forgive them, especially because they don't know what they did to Him. He didn't feel the need to justify Himself, to explain Himself to them -- show them how they hurt Him -- or at least He didn't act out on that feeling. He didn't talk it out with them. Certainly there was more He could have done to receive closure. He especially could have gone back to those same people who crucified Him after His resurrection and said to them, "See? I told you I'm the Son of God. Now do you see how you hurt me when you mocked me and killed me? Apologize!"

Now, I realize Jesus will one day have His moment, where He will come back in all His glory, and those who threw insults at Him and cursed Him will receive their punishment. But that's not the point.

The point is that the heart of God is forgiveness, even when people don't know what they did wrong. Even when no communication is involved. Even when no closure is reached.

Right now there are a lot of relationships in my life that involve a lot of effort on my part -- a lot of me initiating and apologizing for whatever I did wrong without receiving an apology in return, a lot of me doing what I can to keep the peace, a lot of getting rolled over, a lot of damage to my own esteem and heart...

... and a lot of just letting it all go.

Some of these broken relationships are a result of the other person simply being in that phase where they don't care about my feelings. Some are just like that -- rude. Some are misunderstood. Some really have no clue how they're hurting me. Some don't mean it.

But whatever it is, I need to learn to let go and stop trying to control other people -- stop trying to control their personalities, stop trying to control their growth, stop trying to control the way they relate to me.

Jesus was the most feeling man. Jesus was the most misunderstood man. Jesus was the most cursed man. Jesus was the most forgiving man.

Jesus was all of those things, and He is all of those things as God.

I am a very feeling person. And very misunderstood. Sometimes I feel hated, but really I don't even know what that really means.

Can I identify with Christ in those things, at least to some extent? Sure. So if I can relate to Him in those things, should I not strive to also identify with Him in the suffering associated with those things, and the forgiveness that should result?

A couple weeks ago, God blessed me by allowing me to have the closure that I desired with three different people. And those relationships were either "defined" or restored. There is a time to speak. That week was a time to speak.

But there is also a time to be silent. I have a feeling (hah, as usual) that God allowed me those moments to speak because He was preparing me for these moments of silence. Of suffering and not communicating that suffering. Now is a time to be silent, to learn to forgive during this silence. To love though I don't feel loved. To feel though they don't seem to feel.

To forgive without closure, though my heart has been programmed to do otherwise. (Good thing God is greater than my heart!)

these four walls

These are only walls. They are not my chains, and they have no power over me.

It's Thanksgiving Break now, and I am at home. The room I had in high school is now an office, and my bed is now in my sister's room. She likes the guest room better though, so I'm staying in her old room now. I hurt my sister in the past, and it wasn't until the end of my senior year of high school that I started repairing the damage that had been done. Sleeping within these light blue walls now brings back all my regrets, and with that a heavy heart. But they are only walls, and not my chains -- they have no power over me.

When I walk back into my old room, I remember the many nights I would lie awake at night in high school. I could see the moon through the window from my bed, and I would look for God in the sky, begging Him to forgive me for always giving in to my sexual addiction. That room brings back those memories of frustration and failure. But its bright pink walls are only that -- walls. They are not my chains, and they have no power over me.

There are many good memories in this house. But, of course, there are bad memories too. And it's strange how coming home brings the bad to mind, overwhelming the good. My heart is heavy, and I feel like I am backtracking. All the progress I made during my time away from home -- the relationship with God I have founded, the friendships I have formed, the mindsets, emotions, and perspectives I have developed, and the character I have refined. My family is made of the people who know me best, who know where I have been, and they can best judge me.

The temptations are greater here. I am more prone to loneliness, to boredom, to fear, to sin, to addiction. Because while I call this place home, this place holds my past. And when I am home, I am more inclined to be who I was before. The walls of this house are watching me, trying to overpower me and bring me to down -- this state of claustrophobia, chains around my heart and mind, the devil prowling by my bedside, waiting to master me.

But my God is protecting me. And these are only walls. They are not my chains. They have no power over me. My God is greater than this house.

And the devil's a dirtbag.

marked wonderful & set apart

I never thought I was extraordinary. Weird, maybe, or a mistake. But not extraordinary.

I've done my best to blend in, to be ordinary -- if that's what everyone else was. I've never tried to be better than anyone, only to measure up. To be normal.

Now here's what gets me: God didn't make me normal. He didn't make you normal.

Dig a little with me and read Psalm 139:14. (And don't roll your eyes because you've read it so many times!)

"I will give thanks to you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are your works, and my soul knows it very well." (NASB)

Let's explore those bolded words.
Fearfully. From the root word meaning:
- to stand in awe of
- to be held in awe
- to put in fear, reverence
- to tremble

--> The same God who is all-powerful and worthy of fear and reverence is the same God who created me, as intricate and complex as I am.

Wonderfully. From the root word meaning:
- set apart
- become distinguished
- admirable
- to be distinct
- marked out

--> I never realized the meaning of wonderfully. I just thought that meant I was wonderful, and still not understanding what that meant either. But here, wonderfully comes from the Hebrew word palah, which means "set apart." I knew God created us individuals and sees each of us as each unique being... but to be set apart? To be distinct from the rest? That makes us different. That makes us not normal. That makes us something else...

Your works:
- the labor of His hands
- product, result
- things made

--> In this context, I believe David is specifically referring to us as God's work, as the product of His labor.
Wonderful. Similar to "wonderfully," but more pertaining to:
- marvelous
- beautiful
- extraordinary

--> Since we, God's "works," are the object of this adjective, those descriptions apply to us! We are marvelous. We are beautiful. We are extraordinary.

Very well. One word in Hebrew, meaning:
- exceedingly
- much
- abundantly

--> This same word is used in Deuteronomy 6:5. When God commanded us to love Him with all our strength, He is essentially saying, "Love Me exceedingly. Love Me so much that your strength depends on it." I believe "very well" in Psalm 139:14 is within the same context. "May your soul know that I have created you beautiful and extraordinary, set apart -- and may your strength depend on that knowledge." Essentially, when we are feeling inadequate, weak, not good enough, may we be reminded that those feelings are lies, and God has indeed made us wonderful -- and let that strengthen us.

I wasn't created to be normal. You weren't created to be normal. We. Are. Not. Normal. No change in thought, behavior or appearance will make that sentence any less true. We are, in fact, extraordinary. And He has forever marked us wonderful!