Guilty by reason of insanity

*First of all, I want to thank those of you who have said nice things about this blog to me the last few weeks. Especially those of you who did it in person and received a slight nod and a stammered, "thank you." I never know how to respond to comments about what I write here, probably because it's so naked and personal that I normally just assume that no one reads it. That way I don't censor myself. But when I realize that people do read it occasionally, I get a little self conscious and don't respond correctly to those who do say nice things. I'm so sorry for that. Please know I am blessed by you even if I look like I'm about to throw up. And thank you for your written word too. Huge blessings. Really.

I read something this week that said that getting 80% of what you are thinking to your blog is better than 100% of it in your brain only. Hold up, that's not what he said. This is what he said: "Dear writers & bloggers, I've said this before and I can't say this enough, 80% perfect & live always beats 100% perfect & stuck in your head." (Wow, I was so way off on that one.) I'm not sure I agree with that, especially sensing the disaster I'm about to create here. I am sick of having this stuff roll around in my head, though, so 80% or not, here it comes. I might also add that this is actually about three posts in one, so that ought to whip this post into a scattered frenzy. Ready or not, here we go.

The craziness partially started last Sunday morning when a guy in our church came to our small group to share about a ministry he started. I'll share more about the ministry later. I knew he was coming, and while I was excited about hearing his heart, I was also kind of dreading it. He does what I would love to do. I mean like an "If you could do anything in the world..." sort of thing, I would be something like this. As soon as he started to talk, I whipped out my hanky, which one of my friends in our small group found highly amusing. Can I just ask why I've turned into the hugest cry baby in the world? I used to tease one of my sweet friends mercilessly about her crying, and now I'm just as bad, if not worse. At least she won't have to cry alone now. If fact, during the last movie we all saw, I think I cried more than she did. (And yes, I cried the on and off through out the whole small group. Goodness knows what the poor speaker guy thought.) Good grief. Anyway...

I watched this presentation with an aching heart. Selfishly, it was hard. My head was whirling and my heart was heavy when I left small group and walked into our worship room. Then our pastor delivered a sermon that just blew me away. I know I say that a lot, but this time really was just... oh, I don't know. It just tore me up. And not really in a good way. Then I happened to sit down and see the link for the "Kisses for Katie" blog I linked earlier this week. I read that, and that was it. I was just done. DONE.

Fast forward to this morning, and I had a quick conversation with The Wonder of Chelsea. She's a phenomenal person, and I think she nailed me to the wall. And I don't think she meant to, but you never really know with her. ( I love you, really.) We were talking about the Kisses for Katie blog, and what The Wonder said, basically, was that for the 6 years that she's known me, my heart has been for missions. For helping the hurting. Or not hurting. Just helping. (And spreading the Gospel, I'd like to add.) And in these 6 years that I haven't been doing that, I've reeked of guilt because I haven't been doing that. The thing I want to do so much. Go. And help.

Now first of all, it was early this morning when we had this chat, and I was still mighty sleep deprived. She may not have meant this at all. That's what I came away from the conversation with, though. I haven't done anything. About what I want to do.

Another one of the posts I've been wanting to write was entitled, "Losing My Religion." (I don't know where I come up with these titles, but I do love that song still. What ever happened to REM?) This post involved my van. I loved my old, run down van. I was perfectly happy with it, and despite Allen wanting to replace it with a not so run down version, I refused, happy to drive my same old one. Except, that, God began to gently point out that maybe I loved it too much. Maybe what I was saying by driving my old van was that I was too spiritual and too Godly to drive a new van, perish the thought. I was actually taking pride in the fact that I drove an old, run down van.

Can you believe it? How can one person turn driving a clunker into a Pharisaical show of debauchery? One day I clicked on our friend's car website, and there sat a used van that just screamed out to me. Well, actually that was probably God yelling at me, but anyway, I called Allen and told him there was a van we could go look at. He was more than happy. Along with one of the sliding doors that now refused to open, the "check engine" light had come on in our old van, and along with everything else that was wrong with it, he was just ready to let it go. So we traipse down to the dealership and a few several short hours with 3 young children in a dealership full of luxury cars later, I was the owner of a "new" van.

Did I mention this was all the day after the Haitian earthquake? I have to admit that I went into the dealership bathroom and cried, hating that I had to buy a van when all I really wanted to do was get on a plane to Haiti. And give them that money. Not that that makes me a better person or anything. I just hate living in a society where I need stuff like this. But nevermind that. I called my super patient and ever wise friend and said, "A new van? This isn't RADICAL..." I think I cried again. To make matters worse, it was a fully loaded van. It had leather, a dvd player and, to my horror, heated seats. Ugh.

I churned this all over in my heart for a couple of days, when another of my dear friends asked, "Amy, why can't you see that God blessed you with this van? Don't you think that He might be blessing you, especially since you drove a bottom of the line van for like a hundred years?" (Hey, I liked that it had no bells and whistles. It had automatic door locks and windows. A first for me. That was luxury in my book!) But did she have a point? Did God bless me with the darn thing? And not to mention, did I need to be thankful, especially since my precious husband worked hard to provide that van and was ever so happy to do so?

I then had to go back to the dealership the next day to have the van cleaned and whatever they do to it. So they give me a loaner car. They roll out a $50,000 Acura MDX and sent me off in it. I was a nervous wreck driving that thing. It was so loaded, it basically could have driven itself. I did have fun with the bells and whistles, and then, suddenly, after driving it for about half a day, I realized that I was looking at the world differently. I was looking down on people driving clunkers, when I had been driving a clunker less than 48 hours earlier. I felt so sorry for people in their old cars while I cruised around in my small suv that cost as much as houses that I used to help sell a hundred years ago. Once I realized what driving this thing had turned me into, I was ready to give that thing back. What the heck happened? What had driving that thing done to my spirituality? Is my faith that fickle?

Now I'm not saying that you can't be rich and love Jesus. God blessed people in the Bible with great wealth-people like Job and Solomon. This is just all about ME. And how stinky and sinful I am.

So that was it. I felt guilty for driving a van, a "new" van (it's a 2004, btw) because there are people in this world who sleep in card board boxes, and since I'm not helping them, I can feel guilty about driving a new van. At least with the old van I didn't feel as guilty, since they wouldn't have wanted that one anyway. (kidding)

That brings me full circle to what The Wonder and I were talking about this morning. My guilt. I feel guilty for sleeping in a soft warm bed at night. I feel guilty that I have too much fresh, clean water at my disposal that I waste every day. I feel guilty that I can go to Pulbix and just buy food-whatever I want. I feel guilty that I can worship freely, in a country where I'm free to do so. I feel guilty about it all.

And you know what else I realized this week? Not only was I jealous of Katie of Kisses for Katie because of what she gets to do, I feel like she's more deserving of God' love. And of salvation because of what she's doing there. She's certainly more deserving of love from people in her life. Certainly.

It's been a rough week.

So why? Why don't I just get to it? Over and over this week it's been brought before me that you can't wait on a certain feeling or a giant lightening bolt from Heaven before you do something. You just do it out of obedience to God's Word. And everywhere I looked this week, it seemed like everyone was doing something. Except me.

And this is where it is for me. I'm selfish and horribly self centered. I want to be doing what I want to be doing. I want to be living in another country doing serving those people there. And you know what God said? He. said. No.

*sigh*

And it's not just a cop out. He really said no. "Not right now."

And how, you ask, is that possible? That God would tell you NOT to obey His Word of going? I think because of what He has in store for me. He's just saying that it's not time yet. That I will get a chance to go. But not right now. And you know what's harder for me? It's harder to sit still and wait. I feel like I'm watching a football game from the sidelines, constantly yelling at the coach, "Put me in now! Hey, I'm ready! PUT ME IN NOW!" And the Coach is saying, "No, you really aren't ready yet. You have more to do, more to learn, more area to obey. Then you get to go in. But even when you do go in, you have to do it My way, and not your way."

So in the mean time, instead of finding ways here to serve and do, I just feel guilty. For what I'm not doing. Because then at least I'm doing, and not just waiting. Because see, I'm a doer. I like to be moving. Doing. And God is saying, Wait. And Be Still.

And I can't move to Eastlake. Or Gate City. (Don't make me explain it. Just go here and watch it: http://www.brookhills.org/media/series/a-chronicle-of-redemption---part-2-the-law-of-the-land/

And I wish I could. Because then I wouldn't have to feel guilty about living where I do. Can you stand it? How in the world did I get here? So guilty?

This is what I learned this week. Partially what I learned this week. I have to walk in obedience. I can't go and do because God said not to. I could go on mission trips, I could move to where ever I wanted to, but God has not ordained that, and He's not allowing me to. He has said "no" and whether or not that makes sense to me or to any one else, that's all that matters. I know what He said in His Word, and I do want to go, but while He said "Go" there, what that looks like in my life is not necessarily the version of "Go" that I think He's saying in the Bible.

Clear as mud? See, maybe that whole 80% is overrated. Maybe this all made more sense in my brain. Maybe I need bullet points.

• I'm happy and desperately thankful for the van that God and my husband provided.
• I can't move nor travel the world, but that is okay, for now.
• Until God says "Go," I'm staying put. I'd rather obey Him than anything else.
• It's okay that I have a bed to sleep in and food to eat.
  
• I can hear a sermon and be deeply affected and challenged, yet obey what God is telling me, even if that looks differently that what I think the church is looking for.
• It's a heart issue. God is concerned about the condition of my heart, and He will work in my heart until it clearly reflects His own.
• I know that guilt is from the devil.
• I know that God loves me as much as He loves Katie in Uganda.
• Writing a blog post when you're sleep deprived is probably not the way to go.
  

I need to focus on ways that I can "go" here. There are things I can do while I'm waiting. I'm asking Him to show me those things that please Him. That push me out of my comfort zone. That preach that Gospel. That show the world how much He means to me. I'm praying that I'll pull a Nike and just do it. Just go. And do. And stop feeling guilty.