Proof.

There have been so many times in life when all I have wanted was "proof." Proof that God exists, proof that He is who He says He is, proof that I have a purpose, proof that I am loved, proof that I am even worth loving.

My feeble human heart demands proof, but what exactly do I expect that to look like? Do I expect for some giant man to float down from the sky and say, "Lauren, here is proof. I am God and I exist." That event would no doubt give me a heart attack and make me wonder what drugs I was on.

Do I expect to hear some voice telling me that I am loved or to get a love letter signed, "I love you. P.S. I am God"?

If I did, would I even believe it? Probably not. And, just because I am told those three words - I love you - doesn't mean my sin will allow me to take those words to heart, to believe them. In fact, more often than not, I have chosen not to believe them... at least about God. I have a hard enough time wrapping my brain around the fact that He is alive, let alone that He is personal and that He loves me.

But, the fact of the matter is, I have already gotten proof. I have just chosen to forget it.

No, it hasn't come in the form I would expect (giant man + love letters), but somehow my proof has gone deeper. The fact that I can see other people's brokenness is proof. The fact that I understand my own need for a Savior is proof. My suffering is proof. My joy is proof. The fact that I am no longer the person I once was is proof...

...In reality, my life has been split into two parts. A life of death and a life of the opposite. It's hard to believe that I once thought that my pain would never end - an endless cycle of sin, of darkness, of the hardships of life - with no hope for anything more.

My freshman year of college was my last year on earth in "Life part 1". I remember that I was 18 and hostile toward pretty much everyone in my life. That year, my beloved cousin had died. I felt abandoned by my friends. My family didn't understand me. I was literally drowning in sin. I couldn't breathe when I looked at myself in the mirror - hating everything about myself, from the inside out. I was experiencing the very definition of darkness and I was in it alone - fighting a battle I knew deep down that I would eventually lose.

And yet, I was pursued. I was sought after. I couldn't do it alone and after a time, I finally understood why. I knew that I was doomed from the start, not able to do it alone because I wasn't created to. I was created to be cared for, to be loved, to be guided.

If I stop and think about it, "Life part 2" is my proof. If I really stopped and remembered all that the Lord has done for me as the Bible calls us to do time and time again, I would feel stupid for ever desiring a giant man floating down from the sky or a booming voice. Of course God exists and of course He loves me. How could I ever forget how He brought me out of a deep, dark pit and set my feet high upon a rock? How could I ever forget the indescribable joy I felt the first time I realized that I would never, ever have to walk through life alone again?

And how could I ever forget what it was like to see for the first time - to see this world as He does... to love this world as He does... to understand that I was not created for this place, but for somewhere different entirely.

The truth is, as a child of God, I am called to have faith and believe no matter how much human "proof" I am lacking. God calls for us to believe what He says without proof, no matter the cost.

Even so, out of His mercy and grace, He gives it to us anyway.


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Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,

that saved a wretch like me.


I once was lost, but now I am found 


....was blind but now I see.

Seasons

Somewhere in the last two weeks, things have started to make sense again. The sun in the sky warms the deepest parts of my heart and soul, chasing away the chill that has been inside my bones for the last year. The mountains are so beautiful that they take my breath away. I believe the right things again. I know without a doubt that my God loves me.

This last year with Christ has consisted of the hardest season I have had with Him to date. I have experienced deep pain and fear, yet at the same time, numbness and emptiness. Never have I experienced so many instances in which I wait expectantly for my heart to be stirred, only to be profoundly disappointed by my own body's lack of response. Gnawing thoughts have filled my head about how much has changed in my walk with Him.

"I used to be moved by this. I used to believe this."

Profound confusion about God's character and promises bombarded my heart and mind day in and day out,  making me believe lies about our Savior - that He isn't good, that He doesn't care, that He isn't faithful. All of this only perpetuated more death, more confusion, more lies.

Yes, this last season was harder than my feeble human heart can really comprehend, yet I can fully and confidently say that I wouldn't take it back for anything. I love believing Truth again as if it is the first time I have heard it. I love learning new things, believing new things about the One who created and loves me so much - about the One who died for me. I love knowing who I am and who He is. I love believing what He did for me. I love seeing Him in my dear brothers and sisters here in Colombia. I love hearing him in each worship song we sing during chapel.

In some ways, I feel like a marathon runner after a race. I feel exhausted and worn out, completely and utterly perplexed as to what just happened to me - an out of body experience.

Was that even me running? It couldn't have been.

Oh, but it was. Paul wasn't kidding when He called this thing a race. It is an uphill battle of good and bad seasons, joy and pain.

Even though Colombia has no physical seasons to remind me of this cycle of life, I love that God has showed me the hope and growth that comes after a long winter in a different way - in my own heart. Before Christ,  I experienced death. Yet in that same heart, I can now experience Life. For it is because He saw my brokenness and took the risk of insterting Himself right into the middle of it... in order for me to Live and know Him.

It is the seasons of our walk with Him that remind us of this. How else will we be reminded that there is Light without darkness first? How else will we know that His love for us is real, unless we know without a shadow of a doubt that He was the same God in the seasons of pain that He is in the seasons of joy?

And as this Psalm of Ascent describes so perfectly, if anything else, these "seasons" remind us where we should look:

"I lift up my eyes to you, to you whose throne is in heaven.
As the eyes of slaves look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of the maid look to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to the Lord our God till He shows us mercy."

Psalm 123