The Seder

Thursday night I attended my first "Seder" dinner with my boyfriend and his family. I really wasn't sure how to approach this medium-sized, Marriott Hotel ballroom filled with yarmulkes (traditional Jewish skullcap) and "regular people" at first. All I knew was that this Passover-style dinner mimicked a time in the life of my Savior.

We prayed, worshipped, took parsley flakes dipped in salt water and bitter herbs that would put wasabi to shame. Think I'm kidding? You try eating that mushroom-looking explosion of spices. In my feeble mind, the sheer magnitude of what my on-fire mouth was experiencing alone must have meant Jesus meant business.

We then moved on to enjoying an all Kosher meal that consisted of chicken, vegetables, sweet potatoes. Not my usual cup of tea, but I was determined to soak up every bit of this experience because my Jesus had done something very similar. I had spent a good portion of my morning in prayer, asking God to do something in my heart that I had never experienced before.

Jesus, show me. 

We finished dinner and stood up to worship. The first song was in Hebrew and I was lost. Discouraged, I listened and prayed as Jewish hands went into the air.

Jesus, show me. Please.

The song changed to something I knew in english (I can't even remember the name to be honest) and more hands went into the air. The praise in the room swelled and suddenly I felt my heart would burst.

That's when He showed me. 

"There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." -Galatians 3:28 (NIV)

Sitting in the back of the room, I saw each and every one of the worshipping hands and heads, capped and uncapped. The loudest and most heartfelt praise I had ever experienced was coming from Jews and Gentiles alike, and that is what He wanted to show me.

Ashley, this is why I died. So that you could worship alongside my other children without shame or condemnation. The church is one body, worldwide. It is the essence of who I am. 

Tears fell. How could I have missed it? He brought me there to show me that people from other churches, Jewish people, pastors I've never met before all worship Him the same way I do. The church is supposed to represent the whole body of Christ, even when we don't recognize His skin tone or traditions or language. Sometimes we lose sight of that in the quest to get people saved and raise attendance numbers to that we "outgrow" our spaces. What God showed me was that we have to be praying for the other churches across our city, country, and world. How would the state of Florida, Alabama, California, Tennessee change if we began praying for the churches we drive past on the way to "ours"? My prayer is that I will see another congregation and not think of them as another "body of Christ" but another part of the same body.

Jesus, change my heart. Let me see them like You would: whole and beloved. 


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Grace

I've written this post a thousand times I think, mulling over grammar style and subject matter and ways that I can convey an idea that bubbles inside my soul. But at the cross, that stuff doesn't matter. When we're faced with the humanity of who we are, only Jesus remains. His soft grace lulls me into a peace I haven't felt in a while.

Jesus, You are beautiful.

I can't help but melt at the vastness of Him, taking me over in all His glory. I think I've forgotten to notice lately. No excuses, just transitions.

Sweet Jesus, thank You. 

I rest in Him and let myself dream. Sometimes I want to be a speaker; sometimes a writer. All the time though, I just want to be heard. A lot has changed in the last few years and joy floods my soul now more than ever, but not without a little fear. Do you think they'll listen? Does what I have to say matter? The answer is that it doesn't. What matters is what Jesus has to say. What matters is who He will touch through my life's "questions".

"Right" I think, and His grace begins to wash over me like sweet perfume. Can you feel it? He's closer than a brother because He's lighting me up from the inside, filling my countenance with love and mercy, just like His. Oh, those wounds are mending. Can you see them? Me neither. They fade in the sight of Jesus and I'm wearing His frames from now on.

A thousand praises to You, God. Hallelujah. I am caught in the current of grace.


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Thursday Morning Laundry

I sit in a small room, taking it all in.

Someone speaks but I do not recognize their words. Instead, I take special notice of the insignificants: the computer a few feet away, a newsletter laden bulletin board, the polish on my shaking toes. It's cold in here and easier to ignore the blows this way. 

I'm bleeding now, but I don't fight back. Something inside of me broke and this is all I can do, sit and listen to my dream deferred. I let each droplet hit the floor as everything else hits the fan and I am reminded:

Grace

When I leave this room, the whole world will tell me I have a right to be upset. When I leave this room, the whole world will tell me I do not have to forgive someone who will never apologize. When I leave this room, the whole world will coddle my wounds and tell me savor them.

Grace

But the whole world is not the benchmark for treating people. Jesus is the minimum for how anybody should be treated because "Ashley, do you remember all that I forgave you of?"

Ouch.

I feel so deflated though and can't seem to get back to where I was. Where did my fire go? I know I love Jesus but my passion is gone. Do they realize what they've done?

Click-Grace
Click-Grace
Click-Grace

Only sound. No sparks.

Six months later I'm doing Thursday morning laundry. It is too mundane and I feel like I should be doing something else. Never enough and now nothing at all.

But maybe that was the point? In light of Jesus, we're all down for the count. What matters is what we do with who we are. Will we let that sin defeat us or use human fallibility to inspire us into God's individual calling on our lives? As lead pastor of Next Level Church Matt Keller puts it, He is the "God of the Underdogs."

So I keep going, keep writing, and keep washing my clothes.

Spark. Flames.

Turns out that dryer lint and grace are highly flammable.


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Someday

Tears. 

Pictures. 

Speeches.

I walk the line through the auditorium. Dead center, I face the ledge. Cheerleaders, thespians, honor students, jocks, dance team. We are all present, standing together one last time. Here, I am my mother's daughter and you are your father's son. By last name we anxiously await to be called, knowing that everything is about to change. 

My mind spins and I can't stop to breathe. Eyes shift from left to right and we know we will never see these faces again. Not like this. I close my eyes and try to lock them in, my souvenirs. His face when he finally asked her out, their cheers as he sunk the winning basket, the sound of the final bell of our year when they took a victory lap around the lockers. Twelve years in this place and tomorrow we're free. Today, we jump. 

I hear my name called as our row stands. Maneuvering in those heels, I pray that I don't trip. Holding that diploma (or lack thereof, for all of you graduates) and shaking the hand of my principal I realize that this is my time. I leave this stage and I am no longer a Providence Stallion or my mother's daughter. I'm not the cheerleading captain and I'm not a senior. I am Ashley. 

So I jump. 

I do what I have been waiting twelve years to do. So scared, so unprepared, but I do it. Do you know what happened?

He caught me. 

So often I realize that I'm scared to jump into the unknown where God is calling me. I know where I come from so that has to be enough. But staying two steps outside of the Promised Land because I'm afraid of how far I might fall is a crime. That day though, I chose to jump because that's the only way the promises of God would come to fruition for me. I had to let go, that day and every day, so that God could be God in my life. 

Today, I sit in my condo and type as an almost college junior, two years out from that day. I am my own person outside of the shelter of my parents and my high school, but only because I decided that jumping into the unknown had to be better than the "what ifs" and "could have beens". Every day I take small hops and big leaps into life so that God has a chance to catch me. Like a toddler jumping to his/her parent for the first time in the pool, I want to close my eyes, squeeze my arms under some Holy Spirit floaties and leap into the unknown. 

Will you choose to jump to Him today? Those strong arms are reaching for you, waiting to grab hold of His child. 

“It’s the oldest story in the world. One day you’re seventeen and planning for someday. And then quietly and without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And that someday is yesterday. And this is your life.” - Nathan Scott "One Tree Hill"

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Cobwebs

I fell.

Like Alice down a hole but I didn't land in Wonderland. I landed in an attic. But it wasn't a dream. It was my reality. I had been pushed out of my world and landed in the "real world", covered in cobwebs and dust.

I look around and find memories I faintly recognize. The writer I was going to be in the third grade. The broadway dancer I wanted to be in the fifth grade. The boy I couldn't let go of in middle school. My cheerleading days in high school. I brush off some dust for a better look. Why is this stuff here?

"A Dream Deferred" indefinitely. The packaged boxes make me claustrophobic, each holding an idea that used to be. What I didn't realize is that I never could let them go and that's why they were there, collecting dust in my attic. I've spent so much of my life buying into thought after thought that I've never gotten to use any of what I'd purchased. So concerned with doing it all that I've don't nothing at all. My heart and mind somehow became that closet no one ever wants to acknowledge is there because its too full of "stuff" you don't need.

So I went through my boxes.

Unforgiveness.

Dreams.  

Resentment.

Hope. 

Honestly, some packages needed unpacking but some needed to be moved out. The unforgiveness I found after cleaning up the hurt dust on top was the first to go. With the help of a Jesus-sized dolly it has been permanently removed.

Then I unpacked a love for writing that I've had for as long as I can remember. Each day that I type a few more words onto a tiny, lit up screen I unpack a little bit more and my heart and mind get a little bit lighter and warmer.

I guess you could say I've been doing a lot of Spring cleaning lately. Every day I'm trying to unpack a little more so that I can settle into the new me. Besides, this "house" is way too expensive to hold all of that dust and clutter. I have been bought by the blood of Jesus and hope you see that value in you too. He loves and adores that little house of yours, so help Him make more room for you to be you.


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What its about

My favorite thing in the world is laughing until my stomach muscles ache. Those surprise moments where catching your breath is just about all you can do. Those moments seem few and far in between now, but when they do come, oh, the feels. My head down to my orange painted toes light up with joy.

To the left is one of my most cherished moments to date. Pictured is my mother, our immediate family (my dad and brother), her two sisters, their families, her brother and his wife, and my grandparents going on 54 years of marriage. That silliness shows me real family but more importantly real love life. 

I truly believe that this kind of life and laughter comes straight from Jesus Himself. Its no secret that He is the Light of the world and John chapter 1 talks about the "Light" coming to the world to bring "life". When we experience this soul illumination to our deepest core I like to believe we're experiencing a little piece of Him.

With that, I'm issuing a challenge.

Lent starts this week and as much as I love this season of church tradition, I think there is way too much focus on what we're giving up. I'd like to challenge you to think about what you could move out of the way so that you can receive that life. Move away the distractions and calluses so that your heart can be more easily "tickled" by the goodness that's still here.

You know what I mean.

I want the smallest, most childlike funnies to produce gut-wrenching laughter that has you in tears. Why? Because that's what happens when a heart that's sensitive toward Jesus is awakened with the very essence of Him. Childlike faith takes over because the Light has brought life like no other. Lent is about preparing for Easter. Easter is about new life in Christ. New life in Christ is what we're here for and that is why I acknowledge Lent.

Because...

Life.

Grace. 

Love.

Newness.

Jesus.

What are you going to exchange for newness of life in this season?


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What I learned

Emily P. Freeman, author of my new book obsession, A Million Little Ways, issued a challenge to readers of her blog. What did you learn in February?

February seemed to leave as quickly as it came, but not without shining a light on some new lessons first. Here's what I learned in the last 28 days:

1. You are as weird as your closest friends. 
My roommate and I are the oddest pair. I'm quiet, sensitive, and a slave to routine. She's loud, fun-loving, and the most dramatic person I've ever met. I'm proud to say she's rubbed off on me. Thank you for being my best friend, Kels.

2. If Hollywood were to make a female version of the Rocky movies, Mandisa would write the soundtrack. 
Don't pretend like "Good Morning" or "Overcomer hasn't motivated you to get up move. She's blessed with the gift of forcing others into productivity.

3. Waterlogue is sweet. 
As if the App store didn't provide us with enough ways to be artsy.

4. The best place to start a church is in a movie theater. 
I've had the privilege of visiting a local church plant this month called Destiny Church Jax. Not only was worship passionate as ever on that movie theater floor and the pastor just as fired up about Jesus, but the people seemed simply delighted to be greeting each other on the side of that very public building. Who knew I would walk into RoboCop and come out loving Jesus better?

5. My favorite people to watch movies with are less than 4 feet tall. 
Despicable Me, Despicable Me 2, The Lorax, Robots, The Swan Princess, and Finding Nemo. I've got a stash specifically for my favorite tinies. Secretly, I enjoy watching those movies more with them because they can't help but be overtaken by the magic of it all.

6. Sipper's Coffee.

Nestled within a tiny strip center, Sipper's Coffee is the bomb.com. Their hipster feel, friendly service, and food that will make your tastebuds sing the hallelujah chorus made my February Friday mornings that much better.

6.1. I should stop trying to make liking coffee happen. Its not going to happen. 

I just can't. I think I'm the only college student on the planet that doesn't like coffee but I physically cannot will myself to like it. I think it smells like Jesus is roasting a little "Good Morning" in a cup but for some reason I just can't ingest the stuff.

7. "You time" is good time. 

Today my roommate insisted on going to get pedicures, something I never do. After an exhausting week, I figured "Why not?" and left the excuses behind. I haven't been so relaxed in such a long time. Plus, my nails look good.

What did you learn this month? Tweet at me with your answers because I'd love to share in this with you.

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