8 Things God Is (And Isn’t)

In the noisy world where we live, it’s remarkably easy to lose sight of what God is saying. We get so bogged down with the distractions our lives have to offer that we can’t hear His voice over all the noise. We may listen to what pastors and Bible studies have to say about our Creator, but we cease to let Him speak for Himself. We end up with an unfocused, distorted picture of God. It’s impossible to know someone when you only listen to what everyone else says about them. Eventually, you have to sit down and listen to what they have to say.

For the last several weeks, I’ve been going through an identity crisis of sorts. Rebuilding from the ground up, tearing up bad roots, unpacking the basics of who I am and who I want to become. The process is scary and confusing, and completely worth my while. God is leading me on an incredible journey of self-discovery, and I’ll come out of it knowing more about who I am and what His plan is for me. But I’ve come to the realization that, if I want to base who I am in God, I will never be able to figure out who I am until I know who He is. I’m done with the shaky image of Him, built from flawed human logic and assumptions. That’s not who God is. He’s bigger than that, and maybe it’s time I let Him speak for Himself.

So I went to the place I should have looked to for answers in the first place–God’s Word. The handwritten letter from Him to His people. The answer to any question I could have about His character, straight from His mouth. And here’s what I found:

God is the source of perfect love (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

“Love is patient, love is kind.” We’ve all heard the words describing the kind of love we are called to exhibit as followers of Christ. But what makes the passage powerful is that this is the kind of love God has for us. God’s love bears all things, endures forever; He is the ultimate source of untainted, unselfish love. And all that love is directed at us.

God is sustenance (Philippians 4:12)

I was griping to a friend via Facebook Messenger recently, and he sent me this verse. The words hit me hard. “In any and all circumstances I have learned to be content…” Whatever God gives me, it’s enough because I have Him guiding me through it. He is the secret to contentment, wherever life puts me. I serve the God of plenty; whatever I lack, He is enough to make up for it.

God is a steadfast refuge (Psalm 46:10)

As someone who struggles daily with anxiety, this passage is especially comforting. My God is closer than my fear; He is bigger than my panic attacks. He is “a very present help in times of trouble,” I have no need to fear even “though the earth gives way.” The entire world could come crashing down around me, and still my Father would be cause for peace.

God is merciful (John 3:16-17)

This is one of the many characteristics to be exemplified in the behavior of God’s Son during His life on earth. From eating dinner with Pharisees to comforting an adulteress at a public well, Jesus loved the most-despised sinners of His time like they had never been loved before. He wasn’t there “to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Love and mercy abounded in His life, as they do in His Father’s relationship with us.

God is a righteous judge (Psalm 7:8)

This is one of God’s characteristics that I find most difficult to understand, especially seen side-by-side with His love and mercy. God is the ultimate source of goodness. As such, He is the only one with the right to pass judgement on humanity. He sets the bar. God “will judge the world with righteousness.” He is just and right, the only infallible judge, and He will not ignore sin.

God is vengeful (Hebrews 10:26-31)

This is, in my opinion, one of the most terrifying passages in all of Scripture. God has given us the ultimate gift; the price is paid in Christ’s blood to wash away all our wrongdoings. For those who accept that gift, there is no fear, no condemnation. But when that gift of mercy is ignored, fear and condemnation are the only things left. God is righteous in His anger and sure in His vengefulness. “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”

God is all-powerful, and empowering (Deuteronomy 9:3)

We serve a big God. No matter how scary the giants we face may seem, to Him, they are ants. And He empowers His children to serve the purposes He has for them. “Know therefore today that he who goes over before you as a consuming fire is the LORD your God.” We serve a consuming fire. He goes ahead of us. Our enemies are driven out before us; nothing can stand against us when we have His guiding voice.

God is passionately loving (Zephaniah 3:17)

This has been one of my favorite passages since I was in middle school. God’s love seems to radiate from the words. “The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save.” Our Father is whatever presence we need Him to be. His voice rings over the rooftops to declare His love for us; it’s the tender whisper of a parent singing a child to sleep at night. He is delighted with us, and He knows what we need to hear from Him.

Obviously, God cannot be summed up in a single blog post. His character is far too big and multifaceted to be captured in 1500 words or less. But His Word gives us a good starting point to begin to glimpse not only who He is, but also who He isn’t.

There are a lot of misconceptions about the character and attributes of God that could be cleared up so easily if we simply looked to the Scriptures. God is sustenance, and He never leaves His children alone. God is loving, not hateful. God is steadfast; He isn’t scared or shocked by our problems. He is merciful, but He doesn’t let sin go unpaid for. He is righteous, not unfair. He is vengeful, but He isn’t spiteful. He is powerful, not overpowered by things that look huge to us. And most of all, He doesn’t hold back when it comes to loving His children.

This is the God I serve. This is the One who is shaping my future and identity. If who I am is based in who He is, how could I ever be swayed?

But what is that unshakeable identity? Who am I called to be? The answer is simple:

I’m called to be like Him.

~Becca

 

The First Page

I love New Year’s Eve. New beginnings, a fresh start, fireworks, and staying up all night with friends. It is, in my opinion, the best holiday on the calendar. On top of the fun of celebrating, it’s the perfect time to look at my life, and where I stand. What have I learned this year? What am I proud of? What would I change if I could? What do I want to do differently next year?

One year ago, if you had told me anything about my life today, I wouldn’t have believed you. My life is radically different than I anticipated 365 days ago. I’m pursuing a different career path, making different choices, and becoming a different person than I ever thought I would. God is doing big things, and I get to be a part of it. This year has had its good and bad aspects. It’s had high moments, and challenges. I’ve done things I’m proud of, and things I’m not. But here, at the turn of the calendar into a brand new year, I get to look back at everything and decide what I want to take away from it all. Boiling it all down, these are my resolutions for the next year of my life, as well as the lessons they came from:

Be God’s person

I’ve written before about my tendency to apologize for who I am, and about my decision to stop shaping who I am after what people want me to be. For the next 365 days, I’m making it my job to be only who God wants me to be. Cut out the noise and the demands of the world, and only listen to Him. I’ve spent not only the last year, but most of my life being a people-pleaser. And that’s left me with shaky foundations. From now on, it’s me and God. Fear of what people will think doesn’t control me anymore.

Less worry, more trust

I’m a control freak. I don’t like to not have a say in what happens in my life. I have my own plans, my own ambitions, and my own ideas about how to make them into a reality. It’s a bad habit to get into when you shove God aside and tell Him, “All right, I’ve got it from here.” But that’s what I keep doing. I started this year thinking I knew exactly how things were going to turn out, and it blindsided me when it didn’t happen that way. God has given me everything I already need right now, and He has a plan all laid out for how He will meet my future needs. For the next year, I will listen to His voice when He says, “I am sufficient for you. Rest in Me.” My plans will crash and burn, one after the other. His won’t.

No more dating

Most of the past year has been spent in a relationship, and only in hindsight do I realize how much I still have to learn about myself before I’m ready to settle down with anyone. For the next year, I’m swearing off dating or romantic relationships of any kind. God has so much to do with me that I need to be single for. 2016 will be the year of me and God, so I can learn what He has to say before He brings another person into the picture.

Do something that scares me

I spent the first part of this year pushing myself far. I worked hard and accomplished a lot in school and at work. Part of me is proud of the effort I made, but the rest of me knows it was too much for me to handle. The last few months have been rehabilitation, letting myself rest and learning what my needs and limits are to keep myself healthy. I know more about myself than I did before this last semester, and I think it was right to let myself recover. But I want to keep pushing myself. So sometime in the next year, I’m going to do at least one big thing that scares the living daylights out of me. Whether it’s facing an old fear, crossing something I’ve always wanted to do off my bucket list, or something else I haven’t thought of yet. I want to prove to myself that I can be brave.

I love the feeling of starting a new year. From the moment the clock strikes midnight, I am acutely aware of the fact that this year is a clean slate. I haven’t made any marks yet; it’s an empty notebook waiting to be filled with new stories. Tomorrow is page 1 of 365. We serve the God of fresh starts and new beginnings. How much can He do with an entire year if I’ll just hand it off to Him? What stories does the divine Author have to tell me?

I’ll never know until I find out.

~Becca

Through A Different Lens

Lately, all I’ve felt is confused. My entire world feels like it’s shifting under me, everything changing and evolving. I can’t find anything solid to stand on. My foundations are cracked open, and the world around me looks like a completely different place from one day to the next. At first I thought this was destruction. Collapse, failure. I’m not sure what got me to realize it’s the opposite. I’m rebuilding from the ground up. Questioning everything because I need answers. At the core of everything else, I’m struggling with the concept of who I am.

Identity may be one of the hardest ideas young people have to deal with. The concept is so abstract and hard to pin down, but at the same time it’s vital to our existence. Who we are becomes our motivation, the driving force behind our decisions. Whether we are consciously aware of it or not, our identity shapes a lot of our lives, and that makes it an important thing to have figured out. But what exactly defines who a person is? Is it their likes and dislikes? Their past experiences? Future ambitions? Their habits? Their good attributes? Their bad ones?

That’s what I’ve been struggling to pin down. What defines me? What about my life contains the essence of who I am? And what does that make me? All pretty heavy questions that are scary to think about. But I can’t stop asking them; something in me desperately needs to know the answers. It feels like what I decide will be a huge part of the rest of my life. If I want to make progress, I need to know which way I want to move in first. Before I can decide anything else about my life, I have to know who I am.

But how do I decide that? This is what has me so confused. There are a lot of different things I could decide to be. I see so many contrasting versions of me, like looking at myself under a microscope, constantly changing the lens. I see a kaleidoscope of identities. And there are so many people who suddenly have an opinion about what kind of person I should become: do this, don’t be that, you should be more like this. That’s one of the challenges people in my generation are encountering–in the quest to define oneself, everyone wants to weigh in. Parents, teachers, friends, significant others, coworkers, everyone. Everybody sees you through a different lens.

But there’s one issue with that–none of those people are you. They don’t know what you need or want, or what God has planned for you. They can’t see you for who you really are. Only recently have I realized how much of my life I’ve spent allowing people’s opinions to define me. I tried to be who I was told to be by the people in my life. I played by the rules and made myself as inoffensive as I could. I danced their dance and gave them what they wanted. And I began to fade away, replaced by this person that wasn’t me. Only after I had nearly lost myself did I realize how fake I was. A cheap, plastic person. A shadow of who I was made to be. Everyone liked that girl–but she wasn’t me. No matter how much people care about me, they cannot tell me who I’m supposed to be.

So if I can’t look to people for the truth of who I am, where can I look?

Where should I always look for truth? The answer is simple, even though I usually take a while to get there: I need to look straight at God.

The Bible has a lot to say about who we are in Christ, and I’m blown away every time I read God’s truth about my identity. What He says about me is powerful:

I am united with Christ (1 Corinthians 6:17). I am a sinner, desperately in need of grace (Romans 6:23). I was custom-made by His hand from my first moments of existence (Jeremiah 1:5). I am chosen, a part of a royal people that belongs to God (1 Peter 2:9). I am incredibly, deeply, intimately loved (1 John 3: 1-2). I am raised with Christ, made for a world so much bigger than this one (Colossians 3:1-3). I am accepted for who I am (Romans 15:7). I am not of those who live in fear (Hebrews 10:39).

That’s who I am.

Looking at that list, I also realize what I am not. I’m not the person I see myself as in my worst moments. I’m better than the voices of anxiety in my head tell me I am. I’m not my panic attacks or my mistakes. I’m not my bad days, or my bad habits, or my harsh words said in anger. I’m not the summation of what people think of me. I’m who God says I am. And He says I am sanctified, complete in His Son’s death and resurrection. I am the girl He sent His Son to die for; I am the girl He loves. That’s what He sees when He looks at me.

If I lived my life like I believed that, what cause would I ever have to doubt myself?

I wouldn’t have any. An identity founded on Christ is rock-solid. It does not seek approval from others because it already has all the confirmation it needs. It doesn’t concern itself with being offensive, or what people will think. When you rest on the truth of who you are in Christ, you don’t need to worry about other people’s opinions of you. You know how much bigger you are than that.

When I add God’s truth to the mixture, things begin to get clearer. The lenses fall away and the different versions I see begin to blend into one. When I see myself through God’s eyes, the person who I want to be starts to take shape. The picture is still blurry; I can’t see it all yet. But the girl I was made to be is starting to come into focus.

~Becca

Inspired and helped by this list of verses.

Waiting For The Sun

I make it a point to be honest on this blog. When something good happens, I write about it. When something bad happens, I write about that too. My posts are about whatever happens to be on my mind at the time. And usually, it works. It gives me a way to channel my thoughts and feelings, and other people hopefully find something they can relate to. My favorite response to my writing is when someone says they’ve felt the same way before.

But eventually I am always left with a dilemma. What happens when I am thinking about something too sad, too personal to share with the world? What happens when it’s not only my privacy at stake, but someone else’s as well? What do I write about then?

I found myself at this impasse after a recent breakup with my boyfriend, and since then I have encountered an enormous block whenever I tried to write. My world had been rocked, both I and someone I cared about were in pain. I was trying to process an enormous amount of difficult information. There was simply no room for anything but this breakup in my head; everything else got put on the back burner. In a lot of ways, I still feel like I’m struggling to keep my head above water. But I’m at least starting to feel like I have a fighting chance. The fact that I’m able to write about anything again is proof positive that things are starting to get better.

But what do I write about? That is what I’ve been wrestling with these last few days. I can’t write about any details, obviously. It’s too personal, too hurtful, too sensitive. Like prodding an open wound. I couldn’t write about the nights that it hit me like a freight train how many millions of ways my life is going to be different from now on. Too vulnerable to put in the open for the world to see and pass judgement on. I couldn’t write about where I want to go from here, because I don’t even know myself. So what does that leave?

It only leaves God. And the ways He has been moving in my life and others this week. And all the good He has done through this hard time.

At first I questioned how this could be for the best. People got hurt. How could that possibly be part of His plan? But then I started to see the silver linings showing through. The other night, I sat down and spent intimate time with God for the first time in far too long. I’ve opened up to people and forged the beginnings of friendships that might not have happened otherwise. God has spoken to me in ways that wouldn’t have been possible while I was in a relationship. I am able to focus on giving myself to Him with abandon, without the distraction of another person in my life. He’s taught me a lot about myself and the way I handle different situations. I am thrown into a growth spurt. My life has gone from stagnation to sudden, constant motion.

Maybe the biggest lesson I’m learning is that I can’t make things be better. I was hit hard by something my photojournalism professor said in class a few days ago:

“What do you do when there’s a cloud over the sun? You wait, and hope the sun comes back out.”

I don’t think he had any idea how his words affected me. This was during a lecture about lighting for photos; it wasn’t meant to be life-altering wisdom. But the words struck home all the same.

I realized that God never promised to spare us from hurting. Christians are not exempt from hardship or trial. The world is a painful place sometimes, and I can’t fix it. The sun is behind a cloud, and I’m called to wait on God and His timing. It will come out again, but only when He wants it to. Until then, He has things to teach me. I’m not called to chase down the sun, only learn from the clouds.

This isn’t the hardest thing I’ve been through, or that I will go through in the future. But it still hurts.  There are still times when everything feels lonely and confusing and all I can do is pray and tell God I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this. 

That’s when His voice comes back to me through the noise:

“You can’t do this. But I can do anything.”

He’ll carry me through this.

~Becca

Something Unexpected

Every once in a while, you have to make a hard choice. When you know the right thing to do, and you know the easy thing to do. But you can’t have them both. Every so often, you find yourself in the position of having to do something unexpected. Something that’s going to surprise a lot of people. Maybe a few of them will even be mad at you. What you’re doing looks absolutely crazy; there’s no warrant or precedent for it. But you know it’s the right choice.

Today I met with my academic advisor and changed my major from journalism to English. That choice represents a big shift for me, and it’s one I’ve been agonizing over for a while now. For over a year I have believed journalism was what I was going to do. I was going to be a reporter and tell stories and go on adventures. I never listened to that creeping doubt in the back of my mind that maybe this wasn’t what I really wanted. Maybe I was just doing what everyone expected of me, because I was too scared of what might happen if I dared to step out and do something unexpected. I lied and lied and lied to myself until I believed it.

This semester has been a sort of cleaning-out time for me. The space of a few relatively quiet months for God to clear out my head so I could finally listen to what He has to say. And what I discovered when I cleaned away all the baggage and requirements and voices always demanding more, was myself. A girl who doesn’t want a big, flashy career. A girl who would rather read about adventures than go on one. A girl who is tired of being told who she’s supposed to be.

Something God has been working into my mind for the past few months is that I am more than people’s opinions of me. I am not here to perform, I’m here to do His work. I wrote last week about my decision to stop apologizing for who I am. Now, I’m applying that decision. I’m taking back control and pursuing what I want to pursue. I’m sure I will shock and offend some people along the way, even though that isn’t my intent. It always shocks people when you do something they don’t expect. But something I wish I could tell to every person on this campus is, you’re not here to make people happy. You are more than the summation of what people think of you. You are so much more.

My leap of faith starts now, with a new degree plan and a list of classes next semester in which I can read and write to my heart’s content. I wanted to dance down the sidewalk leaving my advisor’s office today. Making the change is scary, because I don’t know exactly what lies ahead. But I’m finally doing what I want to, not what people expect of me. And that feels good.

I know God is holding my hand as I make the leap and do the unexpected thing. He always will be. And when God is holding your hand, the world looks a lot less scary.

~Becca

I Unapologize

For a culture that claims to be all about being yourself and looking out for number one, we are shockingly centered around the idea of having to be good enough. Movie posters and magazines and music videos show us images of perfection day after day, and we are told to measure up. Smooth skin, muscled bodies, perfect hair. Men and women face uncertainties that culture plants in their minds. The game of comparison is one we are bound to lose.

And when I lose, I always feel sorry for it. Like I should have done better. I find myself apologizing multiple times a day, in every conversation. It’s not always as explicit as a spoken “I’m sorry,” oftentimes I don’t even realize what I’m doing. I apologize with my body language, with my self-deprecating words, with the acknowledgement that there is someone out there who can do and say it better than me. Somewhere along the line I picked up the belief that I owe the world an apology, not for doing anything wrong, but simply for who I am. For the slight lisp when I speak, or my flyaway hair, or for the way I talk about something important to me.

Those are good things. Those are things that God gave to me when He stitched me together from nothing. So why am I sorry for them?

I had an interesting conversation with a girl I met at my favorite coffee shop last Friday night. I was lost in a world of Communication Theory homework when she plunked herself down at the table next to mine and simply started talking. It started out with music and what we had listened to in middle school, then progressed deeper, into the territory of our beliefs and what we wanted to do with ourselves. I had given one of my incessant apologies for something I had said that I was worried might offend, when she looked me dead in the eye and said something I hope I never forget.

“Don’t ever apologize for that. I want you to be authentic with me.”

I have never heard someone say that before. Our culture simply doesn’t allow for it. We aren’t as straightforward as that, and it’s certainly unusual to ask for authenticity from someone we just met an hour ago. It’s too direct. It might be uncomfortable. We like to hide behind our walls and our armor, where no one can see us. We’ve kept a safe distance from the rest of the world.

What would the world be like if people did say that more often? It got me wondering how much easier things might be if people were simply who God made them to be, without apology or excuse. How would my life change if I lived like that?

I have decided to unapologize. I take back every time I have said I’m sorry for who I am. Every ducked head, every eye roll, every time I tried to backtrack and make what I just said sound more palatable. It’s not worth it to hide yourself for the convenience of others. No more. This isn’t me. This isn’t me. I wasn’t made to fit inside a box. I was made for something much bigger than that. I wasn’t made to seek approval. I was made to laugh as loud as I want to when someone tells a joke. I was designed to do a happy dance when I’m excited about something. I was created for honesty and authenticity and realness. I don’t want to say I’m sorry for who I am.

It’s scary to be who you are. People might not like what they see. They might expect an apology when you haven’t done anything worth an “I’m sorry.” But I’d rather be me than be hidden.

~Becca