Great Loss. Greater Victory.

If you will take a moment and scroll down, you will see my last blog post, December 30, 2013.  If you scroll through, or even read it, you may find a fairly wordy dump of some of the years frustrations and disappointments and a fairly decent metaphor for it all (which I am still quite proud of) all neatly wrapped with a hopeful look towards 2014. 


I have been putting this conversation off for one year.  
For one year I have refused to sit down and do this.
My last words were "Here is to 2014, may I spend more time in Your arms."
And I have tried, for one year, to avoid acknowledging that I got all too much of what I asked for.

I am sitting at the sunny table of a New York City coffee shop, listening to a 10 hour YouTube video of rain to try to drown out the chaos around me; though truthfully, I am hoping it will drown out the chaos in me too.   But here, just on the other side of that hopeful 2014- I find myself wishing for the days where God met me on something as simple as the ground of a running track.

I hate to do this to you, but if you haven't, go ahead and re read my last blog, you will need some of the context to make sense of what's next.

OK

If 2013 was a year, I don't even want to know what 2014 was.  Words that come to mind are: painful, heartbreaking, tired, angry, sad, disappointed, hopeful, fearful, vulnerable, healing, long, full, home, away...all in no particular order. 

I don't want to re trace my steps.  And honestly, I don't feel the need to process, confess, or bare my soul concerning much of what the last year has looked like.  What I want to do, is acknowledge God.

In my last blog I referenced this metaphor of being on a track.  Running, failing, falling, and God's grace that swept in during those moments of despair....  

"But this is grace.  That these hands, time after time after time, reach out, and they don’t ask for you to be able to pull it together just enough, or to use as much of your own strength as you can, these arms say in your total and complete weakness, I will extend to you my total and complete strength.  I will not only bring you comfort in the things that surround you on this ground, I will carry you AND them off this track and into a place where we can just be, the way we were meant to. Forget a water cup, I will pour out my love, hope, grace, comfort, peace, joy, and strength like a waterfall over you.  And when you forget all of this, when you forget these moments and find yourself busily trying to get down the track, with all of your stuff.  When you trip-trip-crash again, and feel like there is nothing left, like there is no way you can go on, I will be there.  I will meet you EXACTLY there with 2 arms ready for holding."  

As I sit here and re read these words I am so comforted by how true God has been to them. By how gently I had experienced this in the last few years, and yet how far from them things have seemed since. 

Sometime in the last year, God and I had a similar moment.  There came a moment where every ounce of pain and every looming fear were standing straight in front of me.  Or were surrounding me. Or ere sitting on top of me.  Or some combination of those. There was one moment where I found myself totally defeated, on the ground, completely helpless; except instead of being on the cyclical track of 2013, I found myself in a some sort of apocalyptic wreckage. 

I looked around me and saw the demolished buildings that once seemed impenetrable  the widespread shrapnel of unexpected and inconvenient torpedos, the simultaneous chaos and detachment of other's who wander around the wreckage unsure of what comes next, and the faintest glimpse of help seeming just far enough away that there was no point to gather oneself to attempt to get it's attention. 

On the track, the struggle seemed to be the external circumstances piling up; there was an unending load of people, places, and things, that I simply could not manage.

In the wreckage, I knew, the struggle was nothing external.  This was all within the depths of my own heart, and I knew, that no amount of proper management or "better"could remedy the damage done.

I remember surveying this state of my heart, and thinking- God I want to surrender.  I know there is nothing I can do here- and I KNOW there is so much you CAN do here- but God, I can't bring myself to it. 

From my, admittedly, self indulgent journal (no date, because apparently, I thought it not important):

"I looked down and saw the white flag. It was massive, it' s beam more than I could wrap my hands around.  No one understands how difficult this is to raise, how substantial!  How much I have to overcome within myself to just get it off the ground."

And as those words crossed my mind, I was reminded of those two arms. 

But this time, they did not pick me up.

"They reached around my arms, 2 hands, next to my hands, over my hands.  They gripped the wooden beam my fidgety and indecisive hands fiddled on, and heaved the white flag at it's end into the air.

"Take heart, I have overcome the world".

These hands didn't simply get the flag off the ground, they waved it viciously over the wreckage. But they didn't make it look easy, I saw every wince, groan, and heave their member took to cover this destruction."  

I feel silly writing this.  It all seems so dramatic.  Gosh was the last year really so bad?  calm down woman!

But it was.

It was awful.

There was so much good in it, I don't want to forget that.  
I had a victory week this year!
All in one week, I finished school and graduated with my BA, ran and completed my first race, and celebrated my 27th birthday (which isn't much of a victory- but whatever).

There was also just so much pain.

And I can not allow myself to slam the door on the last year and pretend it didn't happen.  
Neither the bad nor the good.

God was good, even in the pain, He is good, even in the loss. 
And He stands, Victorious, over it all.
What powerful word's Jesus spoke to His disciples- 

"...In this world, you will have trouble.But take heart. I have overcome the world" (John 16:33)

I can't think of a single instance where victory occurs without opposition.  Opposition breeds casualty.  Thus victory must have some correlation to loss.

There is no better example of this than that of Jesus Himself.  It was only through His loss that we could experience the glory of His victory.
And He promises us that if we will do the same, He will be faithful to do just that-

"Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."  (Matthew 10: 39)

I see those arms bearing the load of that flag and I know that they know great pain. They know loss. They know disappointment, anger, loneliness, rejection, and the hope that soon those things would lose their power.
And I know. I KNOW, and I cling to promise and hope that through those arms, those things DID lose their power.

2014 was a year of great pain and great loss.
I want to commit it to the Lord as a year of greater victory.

With every loss and sqaure inch of wreckage I will remember the hands of my savior viciously claiming victory over that which the world see's only as loss.

2014 was a year of great pain and loss.
God has defeated sin and death.


2014 was a year of great pain and loss.
God. is. Victorious.






I wanted to end there. I think, in terms of writing prowess, it's quite a good ending.
But I can not end without making specific mention of one thing.
Sean Trank.
Oh Sean-
I didn't want to do this here, but I already crying in this coffee shop, so I may as well.
Sean-
You were a stand up man.
You were a godly and faithful man.
You were a great friend.
You were kind, generous, honest, and humble and you endured a level of pain and suffering, nothing in this petty blog compared to with grace, joy, and strength.
At some point before you went home I told myself, "If Sean can sit in that hospital bed with a smile on his face, then I better be able to put a smile on mine".
You inspired me, you challenged me, and you encouraged me.
You made me laugh (sometimes not in a good way ;-) ).
You made me think.
I have a handful of memories with you from the last year that I will always treasure.
This is my favorite:
It is the last time I saw you
You and Sarah had just moved into the house and you were still getting your selves situated.
I was in my room and heard clamoring around so I came out to see what was going on.
You were standing in the door way with your oxygen mask on, and one hand on your air tank -you were so thin.
Your other hand, and the rest of your body, was up under the HUGE couch you were, vertically, trying to push through the doorway.
"Do you need help?"
And Sean, in the most Seaney way he could, looked at the couch then looked back at me and nodded "Yea!"

Sean- you were ridiculous.

Thank you for faithful life that shouts for Social Media around the world:
2014 was a year of great pain and loss.
God. is. Victorious.

Here's to 2014!

In the great tradition of retrospection upon the turning of a new year, I have found myself pondering 2013.  Truth be told, it was the spurring on of dozens of Instagram and Facebook apps enabling me to see all of my posts throughout the year.  As I scrolled through this past year as I had documented via social networking, I came to one conclusion.  This year was….well- 2013. 
This year was hard.  It was a year of slow and continual transition, hard work, and the general challenges of life.  You know that feeling you get right when you trip, and you try to catch yourself-but you can’t- that moment where you trip on your trip- that kind of sums up this year; Feeling ever out of control with no feet on the ground.  This was a hard year.    
But this was a year I will never forget.  Not because it was hard, because it was important.

This year I began to take up running, or I guess I should say I began to take up “wogging” (walk-jog-walk-jog-walk) I NOW run.  And I think if I had to define 2013, I would dub it “The Year of the Run”. 
(Please bear with me as I continue to speak of my life using extravagant analogies- this is just how I role.)
As I began this year, I saw myself at the beginning of a track.  I stood there-carrying a pile, a mound, of baggage.  Things like school, work, hopes, disappointments, things we all carry- I stood there carrying them all, with every intention of making it across the 2013 finish line- all items intact.  As the proverbial gun shot, I began my year long journey, one step at a time, eyes on the mound of life in my arms.    

To start the year off, my house went through (and continued to go through) major transition. It was hard to say goodbye to friends who have become more like family.  It was harder still to adjust to a new house family.   My school and work load were overwhelming, and they regularly spilled out into my life.  I had anxiety dreams about unfinished papers and camp catastrophe’s, worse, I had millions of mornings of waking up 7 minutes before my alarm went off- which is BY FAR- the worst possible torture there is.  I had weeks where I had to apologize to friends for being so incredibly terrible, “I promise, I’m not ACTUALLY like this, I am just having a rough season”.  SEASON- I clung to that word- SEASON this is just a season, things will settle. 
But they didn’t, it seemed like they just kept escalating and with every inch down the track, my “pile o’ problems” got higher and higher. Until finally- I could no longer see where the pile ended, and I could bear the weight of it no more. With the faintest trip…and then, of course, the valiant attempt to recover, and then the inevitable trip on the trip- all In slow motion- my pile came crashing down around me- every frustration, every fear, every failure, every hope all slowly made their way to the ground.  Where I lay; exhausted, annoyed, and disappointed.

You know how when you run a race (though to be clear- I have not run one- so when I say this what I really mean is, “You know how in the movies when people run races….”) someone reaches out and hands the runner water and they shot gun it back and keep going?  That didn’t happen in my paralleled-proverbial run, something much better happened.

As I sat there, completely crushed, utterly defeated, embarrassingly incompetent; 2 hands reached out, and they didn’t help me up- they picked me up.  These arms carried me past the cluttered ground of my destroyed mound and off the track, to anywhere else.  No expectations, no condemnation, no correction, no advice, just being. And I would sit there quietly for a while enjoying being far away from the track, but it wouldn’t be long before I would find myself back there picking up my messy abandoned pile and continuing on.  And as I am sure you can imagine, it would only be a short while longer before the slo-mo trip-trip-crash and I would find myself in the arms of this insane grace taking me away from my 2^nd, 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th….. attempt at getting myself and my mound through 2013. 

We have all been here, I know because so many of you have sat on the track with me and shared your stories of being there.  So many of you are there now, I think of friends who in the last months have suffered great loss, incredibly trial, and heartbreak, and I know I KNOW, that there is little anyone can say to ease the grief, disappointment, fear, and hopelessness of laying on the ground only inches down your track surrounded by your mound. 
But this is grace.  That these hands, time after time after time, reach out, and they don’t ask for you to be able to pull it together just enough, or to use as much of your own strength as you can, these arms say in your total and complete weakness, I will extend to you my total and complete strength.  I will not only bring you comfort in the things that surround you on this ground, I will carry you AND them off this track and into a place where we can just be, the way we were meant to. Forget a water cup, I will pour out my love, hope, grace, comfort, peace, joy, and strength like a waterfall over you.  And when you forget all of this, when you forget these moments and find yourself busily trying to get down the track, with all of your stuff.  When you trip-trip-crash again, and feel like there is nothing left, like there is no way you can go on, I will be there.  I will meet you EXACTLY there with 2 arms ready for holding. 

This year, I spent a lot of time in those arms.  I spent A LOT of time in those arms.  And I think that is what made this year so difficult for a control-freak-perfectionist like me, I spent the majority of my year failing, failing hard.  Failing to meet my own expectations for myself, failing to be able to pull it together, failing to be able to get myself and my mound through 2013.
I didn’t get through 2013, the gentle, patient, kind, gracious, loving, and merciful arms of my savior did. 

I made one of those flipagrams that made a collage out of your Instagram year, and as I was prompted to come up with a title I found myself thinking, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  Hence my title: 2013 was a year.  Which is a true and valid statement.

But I want to acknowledge the goodness of God in this year, I want to call out the grace extended to me in a year where I deserved to be counted out as of like, January 2^nd, I can sit here, December 30^th and say- this has been a year.
God has been so good, He has been faithful to answer prayers for the desires in my heart that I have hoped and waited for for years.  He provided for my every need, He drew me closer to His heart in ways I have never experienced. 
On sleepless nights He kept me company, on early morning runs He showed me His glory, On stressful school days He shared His peace that surpassed ALL understanding, In moments of crisis He extended his safety and protection, in moments of hopelessness He gave me hope .  Tomorrow night I will celebrate not only the beginning of a new year, but the arms that carried me through the last.  Here is to 2014, may I spend more time in Your arms.

We Have Hope

This week, a few needs have come up in my surrounding community.  One, a dear friend and brother in the Lord was diagnosed with lung cancer.  Sean is 27, I had the privilege of singing at his wedding a few years ago.  He and his wife Sara have been amazing friends to me over the years, their heart for others and willingness to serve is refreshing and encouraging.  I will let Sean explain more about his recent diagnosis- he has a way with blogs....http://seantrank.com/2013/10/15/under-water/

Today the weight on our community's chest was added to by another prayer request.  Rachel and David Liebman, who I have also h ad the joy of working with have a beautiful little baby boy, Micah, who fell and hit his head this morning and has bleeding on the brain.  It is beyond sobering to be so reminded of the brevity of life while feeling a slight entitlement to be able to say how unfair all of this is.
The only word that came to my mind as I read the stream of prayer requests in my inbox was hope.  If ever there was a time we needed hope, it's now.  Hope that ultimately God will be faithful to be the good, kind, sovereign, generous, powerful, gentle and comforting God He is.
And then I stumbled on 2 Corinthians 4.  I couldn't pick one verse to sum up the weight of everything happening, so instead- I'm going to just post the whole thing here.  I hope it encourages you the way it encouraged me this morning, I hope it reminds you of God's love, heart, and the weight of His glory.  (perhaps later I will blog on the contrast between the weight we are experiencing for our friends and the weight of His glory...hmmmmm)
But for now- I am just gonna paste the chapter in I find the bible says things better than I do-
please pray for Sean and Micah; and be encouraged- we have hope.

 

2 Corinthians 4

The Light of the Gospel

 Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God,^[a] we do not lose heart. ² But we have renounced disgraceful, underhanded ways. We refuse to practice^[b] cunning or to tamper with God's word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone's conscience in the sight of God. ³ And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. ⁴ In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. ⁵ For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants^[c] for Jesus' sake. ⁶ For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

Treasure in Jars of Clay

⁷ But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. ⁸ We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; ⁹ persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; ¹⁰ always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. ¹¹ For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. ¹² So death is at work in us, but life in you.
¹³ Since we have the same spirit of faith according to what has been written, “I believed, and so I spoke,” we also believe, and so we also speak, ¹⁴ knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence. ¹⁵ For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.
¹⁶ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self^[d] is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, ¹⁸ as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

I love living in San Francisco, I adore this city, it's character, it's beauty, it's complex weather systems, and it's unique combination of vast spanning nature and sky scraping urbanity.  In my almost 4 years here God has molded the resolved tolerance with which I arrived into a love for this city that truly has become a piece of my heart.
In January I began running, another thing that God has slowly but surely given me a love for.  My faveorite and most frequent route is the 2.5 mile stretch from lower Haight, straight down Market to the Ferry Building.  It isn't anything to brag about- but the reward is the time spent sitting on the docks, drinking coffee, observing my two of my favorite things, tall buildings (hence my instagram handle @adventureswithtallbuildings) and beautiful sky.  

I have always been enamored with the sky.  I have files upon files from as far back as high school on my computer of pictures of the sky:  Sky1, Sky2, SkiesAtNight, OnAPlaneInTheSky, CloudySkies...you get the point.  I don't know why, aside from the obvious, it's beautiful.  Something about it just always takes my breath away. 
And call me a city girl- but there is nothing more exhilarating to me than being in the midst of skyscrapers, or even better, observing a sea of them from a high perch.  This love was often practiced in my years in LA driving through the hills with my only directions being the repeating words, "just keep driving up" only stopping when I could see the homes in the canyon, the Capitols records building and had enough space to park my car.
But in the awesomeness that is SF, one must only run a brisk 2.5 miles and the two can be found from one sunny bench.  No Parking Necessary.
About a month ago, some wonderfully generous friends left their car in my care for a season, this has been a wonderful gift- as well as a much needed reminder of something I had forgotten since my time in LA. 

I will not get into the life that I had from 2007-2009 here- it is far too much to cover in one sitting- but I can't help but remember one precious thing about that season- something it seems I am reliving these days.

For those of you who have known me more than 5 minutes, you probably know that LA wasn't my favorite season of life.  While it was incredibly formative, and incredibly necessary for me to be where I am now- it was hard- as growth always is.  It was exhausting, disappointing, and straight up bad at times.  But in the moments when I found myself tucked away in a little clearing off the side of a canyon looking over this city I called home and creation that surrounded it- I was reminded of how small this all was in comparison to the rest of the world.  Not just in a, "buck up- you're being so self absorbed" way, or even a "there are people who have it worse than you!" way- it was almost comforting to know that this wasn't it- this was a blip- a mist- this was going to be over- and it would be a piece of the whole- not the whole.  I took great comfort and went to great lengths to find these moments.  Moments where I could be reminded of my own smallness and the hope in a God who promises something much bigger.

These days, I have found myself in a hard season.  Changes at home and shifts in whats happening at work, and as I wrote in my last entry, 20 units at school- never in my life can I remember having such an unending to do list.

So I have this car.
Who would have ever guessed the power of Prius- this car has been a means of Gods grace. 
So weird. 

On the mornings where I don't have the time (or lets be honest-energy) to run, I have been able to get in my car- drive about 8.5 minutes and pull into a spot (thats right- there is designated parking- take that LA) climb onto a cold stone wall and watch the sun come up just behind those far off mountains.  I can then turn my head to the left and see the Golden Gate Bridge, the fog rolling over it, the entire span of this beautiful city, and then back to the rising sun painting the sky pink and red.

As I sit there- I am reminded of God's grace in my life in times-and skies- past.  I remember His faithfulness to me in cities far less wonderful (*cough cough* Los Angeles *cough couch*), His grace in always providing more than I have ever even had the courage to ask for.  The flood of His peace in times of total drought.  I sit there observing all He has done and know He will be faithful to do the same again- knowing it will be hard- but absolutely beautiful.







That's all for now....
#nofilter #justgrace

Let's wrap up Summer 2013!

Shalom to you from San Francisco- 

Let me start by saying THANK YOU for your prayers and support while we were at camp this summer!  Your partnership in this ministry is invaluable and a blessing from the Lord!

Another summer has come and gone, and in God’s great mercy and kindness, this one did not disappoint.  I am constantly astounded by God’s generosity to His children.  At Passover, we read a series of prayers called, “Dayenu,” which means “it would have been enough.”  We go through the long itemized list of the amazing things God did for the Jewish people, enslaved in Egypt: “Had He split the sea for us and not led us through on dry land, it would have been enough, DAYENU!  Had He led us through on dry land and not drowned our oppressors, it would have been enough,DAYENU!” and so on and so forth. 

Often this is how I feel about camp.  Had He kept all of our campers safe and not met with them in such a powerful way, it would have been enough, DAYENU!  Had He met with them in such a powerful way and not let it be so fun, it would have been enough, DAYENU! You get the idea. 

Camp Gilgal’s 2013 summer season was another year of God’s jaw-dropping goodness, His gift of joy, His perfect provision, His extravagant mercy, and His powerful love for His children!  We held three amazing camps, and I am excited to share some stories from them with you!

One of the lovely ladies of Reuben
helping a little lady of Naphtali
learn her memory verse!

Our summer season started with junior camp for Jewish believing children between the ages of 8 and 12.  At junior camp, our campers are split into “tribes.”  This year, the oldest ladies tribe, the tribe of Reuben, took it upon themselves to be big sisters to the tribe of Naphtali, the youngest ladies tribe.  When the tribe leaders from these tribes informed me of this “adoption” of sorts, my heart melted.  Every night, they tucked the little ladies into bed, prayed with them, and even helped them work on their memory verses.  Never had I been so proud of these young ladies, many of whom I could remember from when they were in the youngest ladies tribe themselves!  What an amazing  picture of God’s love and heart for His little ones.  These ladies went above and beyond and it was a great blessing to me, to the tribe of Napthali, and to the Lord’s heart as well!

Just one week after junior camp ended we packed up once more and headed to teen camp for campers ages 13-15.  Teen camp is epic!  Boating on Bass Lake, night games, rock climbing, hiking through Yosemite, and about a million other things!  At teen camp we also have the opportunity to challenge our campers to continue to take their next steps in their walk with the Lord.  What makes camp such a special place is how seamlessly it brings these two things together.  Two words: GIANT SWING.  

The giant swing is exactly what it sounds like.  Campers are harnessed and climb a tree to a platform about 100 feet in the air.  After being re-rigged, they scoot off the platform, and swing!  This is an exhilarating activity, even for the bravest of our campers, but what an amazing opportunity it is for God to do something in the hearts of those who are a little less than adventurous.  This day was one of the highlights of my summer as I had the joy of coming alongside a number of precious, and nervous, campers, challenging and encouraging them, cheering them on and watching them have victory over fear!  This blessing is made even sweeter when later throughout camp, we hear these campers refer back to how God gave them courage to tackle their fears, and how they know He will be faithful to do that for them again in their lives!  Camp is a very special place! Rounding out the summer season of 2013 was adventure camp, a road-tripping, house-boating, good-eating, and powerful-worshiping-filled week!  Adventure camp is for campers between the ages of 16 and 18. Because many of them have served as staff at camps earlier in the summer or are even beginning their college careers, many of these young men and women are in a place of taking ownership of their faith.  Often it is at this crucial transition of life that God gets their attention in a real and life-changing way.  

This camp was a bit of a different experience than previous adventure camps because on the last night of camp, we recorded a live worship album.  I hope that you someday have the opportunity to see young men and women  respond to the call and heart of God, to see them meet with Him,  experience Him, and worship Him with their whole hearts.  That night will forever be one of the most important moments of my ministry, and I am incredibly humbled and proud to tell you that very soon you will be able to catch a glimpse of it, when “Camp Gilgal: Live” is made available online!
 

DAYENU!  Any one of these things would have been enough, but our God is an extravagant Father, and He continues to generously share His love,  provision, and grace in my life.  For those of you who have been following the saga that is my college career, I am thrilled to share with you that by God’s grace, on May 24, 2014, I will   finally get my hands on one of those little square hats, graduating from San Francisco University with a bachelor’s degree in Communication Studies.  Please continue to keep me in your prayers, here are some specific ways you can be praying!!

 

~Pray for God’s grace, His grace, and more of His grace.  In order to pull off my 2014 graduation I   am currently taking on a 20-credit course load, and will need to complete 21 more credits between the winter and spring semesters.  Pray for peace that surpasses understanding in getting things done, working hard, working well, and knowing when to rest; whether in school or at work.

~Pray for my family, that God would continue to draw us closer to Himself and each other, despite    being across the country  from each other.

 
God has used your kind words, encouragement, prayers, financial support, and care powerfully.  He has been so good and I know that your extravagant love is a reflection of His!  May He extend that love and grace to you today!

In the extravagant Love of our Good and Faithful Father,

Melissa “Streetlight” Weinisch