Dear Jesus,

I am an idiot.

I hate who I've become.

If you can forgive me of anything, can you forgive me of this hypocrisy?

I feel so dirty.

I am so dirty.

Soap and water can only do so much.

Why Don’t You Do Something? (Revelations from the book of James)

“So you see, we are shown to be right with God by what we do, not by faith alone.” (James 2:24)

I have often wondered what it would be like to have the answers to everything. To know exactly how to have the perfect relationship with God, with my friends, with my family— what would it take? Because the standard is perfection, and we are called to be pure and holy, just like our righteous God. For a long time, I thought that having enough faith was always the right answer, and it would be enough to right any situation; if I believed hard enough, and “trusted” God enough, my own desires would be fulfilled and I would be able to get through anything. All I needed was a little bit of faith, right? And plus, wouldn’t God be pleased with me if I just trusted Him to make everything perfect?

While this seemed good in theory, it proved to be completely untrue. God does not want us to idly sit twiddling our thumbs while our mouths do all of the work. We cry out to Him when things don’t go our way, and yet we sit in the puddle of our own self-despair and wait for Him to clean up our mess. What sort of character does this produce? We demand answers from Him, and explanations for all of our circumstances, and say, “I believe in You! I believe You can fix this!”

Well, great! You believe! “Even the demons believe this, and they tremble in terror.” (James 2:19b)

The standard, like I said, is perfection. The way this is achieved is not through the stagnation of our faith, but through it’s active perseverance, as produced by all sorts of trial and hardship. “Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.” (James 1:2-4)

Endurance. As far as I’m concerned, that comes from the verb “endure”, which implicitly implies action. Actively praying, actively working, actively seeking, and actively living. The circumstances in which you find yourself will not change through simply “having enough faith”. I’m not saying that faith in and of itself can’t move mountains, because of course, it can. Matthew 17:20, “I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it would move. Nothing would be impossible.”

However, we are called to pair works and faith together, and through trusting God and carrying out His will, we will find our circumstances changing. So, what do we do, then?

“But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves.” James 1:22

Ground Zero.

I feel numb. I guess it's to be expected, really, after and still in the midst of an intense round of emotions.

I've been waiting. Waiting for you to wake up and realize that I'm worth it. I'm worth getting up before 2 PM so that you can spend the day with me, I'm worth calling and texting to let me know that you care enough to respond, I'm worth reading the Bible with, striving towards God together with, and waiting, truly waiting, with. You see, I can handle "the wait." The big one, the one that would take years and get us through college. I can do that. What I can't wait for is you to change, because you won't. I can't wait for you to tell me what's going on. Because while you feel like I'm dragging you on, I simultaneously feel like you're dragging me on. I'm not questioning your affections, nor your emotions, nor your intentions, but I am questioning your actions and your priorities.

I understand that your family comes first. I understand even more that God comes first. But I don't feel like I'm important to you. I don't feel like you think I'm worth the effort; you can tell me I am all day long, and write the most beautiful letters that break my heart as I read them, and you can tell me that you'll call me at 8:30 every night.... but I need you to prove it to me. I need the proof, babe. You were upset that I left on Saturday night, and said that you hadn't had enough time with me, but who had the power to change that? You told me yourself that you got up late and did nothing all day, while I waited for you to call, which you did not. I got a text, and then an "I'll call you after I get out of the shower", which somehow took an hour and then I get the call, saying "Okay, you can come now." You could have had all day. I needed you all day. I wanted you all day. I waited for you all day. Story of a good chunk of our relationship, lately.

And as mad as it makes me at myself, I'm still waiting for you. Waiting, hoping, that you'll realize that this is something to fight for. To wake up for. But I know you, Luke, I know you just as well as you know me, and in that knowledge I know that you won't, to my despair and grief, fight for me. To think, to realize, that to you it's just not worth the effort, breaks my heart more than not being with you breaks it. I would do absolutely anything in the world for you, and to feel like it's not reciprocated tears me to pieces over and over, and I just don't know if I can deal with it. Yet here I am, still hoping that you'll surprise me.

I need someone who needs me. I don't give myself up easily, and when I do, I want them to understand just how important that is, just how precious that is, and do the same for me. I will go out of my way and be inconvenient for the people that I love. I push back times, I call things off, I tell other plans to wait, because I WANT to see you, because I NEED to see you, because, simply put, I love you. And I think you're worth more than anything in the world. YOU are my priority, because if I truly believe that you are my half, my future husband, my leader and my fighter and my knight in freaking shining armor, then you need to take priority in my life. And I put you there— I really did. I called it into question, though, the moment I saw that it may no longer be mutual. That moment, that second, was the one that I truly broke. When things were no longer mutual, baby, I was so... broken.

I want it to be you so badly. So badly that I want to erase everything I've thought about and start over. But I just don't know if it can work that way, because then it will still be me, trying, and waiting for a response. There are so many things about you that are so, so, good. Things that I love and appreciate, things that you have that no one else has, things that I desperately miss already, now and every time I've had to be away from you. I'm not saying this to compensate for the previous paragraphs. I'm saying this to be honest. I still want you, and I still am praying to God that things will somehow work out and that we can still be together. I am holding on, just as you've asked. But when do I have to let go? What if you never come back and say "let's try again" or something to that effect? I don't know. And this... break, or whatever you call it... I don't even know what it is because it's not like we set a limit. I don't know what you're thinking, or how you're feeling. I don't know what you want.

I want you, Joseph Luke Coats. I love you. I don't know how to let you go. I wrote this because you deserve an explanation. After this, I'll leave you alone. If you want to talk to me, please rest assured, I will be more than happy. In fact, I'll be ecstatic. I can't tell you what to do, or who to be, or whatever. But I do love you. And maybe I'll see you at Ethnos. I'm praying for you.

All my love,

Kristina Lorraine.

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

I am spiritually dejected, and thus, I have no one to blame but myself.

I cry every weekend. Sometimes on the weeknights, too.

My God, I say, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

This is foolish because I know God is always there, but still I ask.

Tonight was no exception.

I keep thinking that I've found the right answer. Yet each time I learn something that I think is going to "fix things", I find myself crying again and again, right back where I started. And I don't even know where that is.

I almost broke up with Luke tonight. We came very close. Distance is hard, not seeing each other is hard, not talking is hard.

I cried. I don't know the exact reason why. I've been crying and screaming and angry. I feel chained. Maybe this is confinement, but then where's the freedom in Christ?

God, it doesn't matter how many times I've told you or will tell you that I'm sick of this. I gave up asking why and now I simply ask, how long? How long must I endure? And why am I always crying? Is there a right answer, a fix?

Apparently not, because I think I've tried just about everything in the book so far. Must I rid myself of everything? Because Luke and I are close to the edge, and then what? Must I smash Gabe on the sidewalk and write with a pen and paper? That is spiteful. I'm sorry.

The truth is, I'm done looking for answers. I give up. I'll just keep crying over who-knows-what, screaming at a silent ceiling, beating my fists against a concrete floor, tearing my hair out and yelling at You, God. I am done wondering what's going on because it's clear that I'll never get an answer.

Take it all away. Yes, take every bit of it.

But don't forsake me.

If It Doesn't Break Your Heart...

Being on the backside of something is a funny feeling; maybe that's just because hind sight is 20-20.

I'm doing a lot of thinking about my relationship with Luke. I'm worried that we're not going to be everything that the other needs. And while I understand that people grow and change and work to better themselves, there are certain unalterable traits that everyone has, and sometimes, they just don't mix. I don't know exactly what Luke needs. I can try to be what I think he needs, but sometimes, that just isn't enough. That goes for visa vera, too.

Here is what I need. Here is what I want.

I need someone who will take a stand in Christ.

The end.

Do Hard Things

You see, I've never been good at that sort of thing.

You know, the whole "saying the right thing at the right time" issue. Or knowing when to NOT say anything. I lack tact. More than that, I lack discernment. And maybe to top off the cake, I can't empathize.

Man, it's been an off week. But it's left me feeling pretty humble.

I am glad that no one can read this, because I may type things tonight that would really offend other people and be the epitome of my un-tactfulness. However, since it's basically me and God here... well, here goes.

Let's backtrack a week. Last Saturday night I was a total wreck. Luke had left, and I was incredibly lonely with no way of dealing with it. So I started talking to God, and it turned into an all-out smack down. Crying, anger, repentance, thankfulness, the works. I'm so tired of the circles, you know? Going back around the same mountains, fighting the same battles, asking forgiveness for the same sins. It gets old pretty quick. And if it's old to me, an ignorant human, how much more so to God? I decided I was going to fast until Thursday— 5 days.

The next morning I went to church at Grace; the message was about sin. It was convicting and eye-opening. I realized that I've been full of worldly sorrow and needed a true dose of Godly sorrow. That definitely kept me going in circles and revealed that I have not (obviously) had a right relationship with God, especially if I cared about what other people thought more than what He thought, and so on.

The week was long, tough, and good. I prayed. I read the Bible. Danielle and I talked about God. Things with Luke were alright.

On Wednesday, Luke's aunt Nancy died.

At this point, I think things really got strange for me. And I realize that "strange" is probably an offensive word, but I honestly cannot find a better one for describing the circumstances.

I have never had anyone close to me die. I don't know what it feels like. I've imagined the pain of it before, I've dreamed about it, but that obviously doesn't even come close to the real thing. For the first time in my life, I have not known how to comfort someone. I've not been able to relate to them, and I've not had words to say. It was a weird, distressing, and unbearable feeling. So, of course, I've prayed. It's the only thing I could and can do. Maybe this is God showing me that prayer is more powerful and more comforting that any other human act or word could possibly be, and maybe this is Him humbling me further. I certainly feel useless, except, of course, for when I'm praying about the situation.

It's been hard to talk to Luke, for obvious reasons. I love him and I'm aching to be an encouragement, to be loving, to be whatever he needs... but I can't. I don't know how. And I honestly feel like nothing can be done. I can say "I'm sorry", but what do those words even mean, anyways? They don't help, and it's gotten to the point where they hardly carry any weight, any significance, any consolation. I'm desperately trying to pinpoint any selfishness in me in order to eradicate it from our conversations, because I want him to feel like... I don't know... geez, I don't know. I don't understand, and I can't. I hate it. I passionately hate it. I'm so glad no one reads this.

To top it off, I told Dell that Rushton's been drinking. I'm sure I opened the most disgusting can of worms and my stomach's been twisting about it, sort of. I know that Luke is going to get a ton of crap for it, because he's told me about it, and I definitely don't want that. He said he shouldn't have told me about anything, which hurt, but I knew what I was getting into even as the words were coming out of my mouth. And I know, without a doubt, that Rushton may greatly dislike me for a good while. I accept this. My dad thinks I did the wrong thing completely by saying anything to her at all. I see both sides of the argument, and I still stick to what I did. Dell had a right to know. Rushton is still under her authority, despite the fact that he turned eighteen. She still pays his bills, he still lives under her roof, and he is still a dependent. Plus, Dell is my friend, and when she asks I cannot lie to her with a clean conscience. I can't withold information from her like that. Dad calls it tattling (as I'm sure the rest of the guys do), but I call it accountability and love.

I still feel kind of sick about the whole issue. I don't like the feeling of people disliking me. I don't like the thought of them finding me a tattle-tale or whatever you want to call it, but that's that and it's done with now. Of course, Dell was grateful and she said I did the right thing, but of course she would. The question is, does God? Father, if You say I did the right thing, then I am perfectly fine with whatever anything thinks about me for whatever reason. I will count that all as loss as long as I know I did what was right in Your eyes. I simply don't know, and it feels awful. I know my intentions, and I know that I spoke up because I care about the guys. I care a lot and I want them to know You. I just don't want anyone to feel like I'm trying to be condemning, because I MESS UP ALL THE TIME. I am the BIGGEST sinner of the group and I WANT people to call me out.

I don't know. I felt really bad about adding that to Luke's plate, because I know he's going to hear it from the guys, and it's completely my "fault." Sigh. I just don't know what to do. Ignorance truly is bliss, and I think I'm glad that Luke may watch what he tells me now. I don't want to have to bear the burden and discern whether it's crucial enough to tell someone.

Another thing. Dell says it's wrong for Luke to come to UNC, if only for the poor image that it gives. Even if we do nothing, it looks bad. My flesh hates this. I want Luke at UNC like I don't even know what. But if God does not approve, then I have no choice. I need strength to make those decisions, though. I need God to give me a complete heart transformation. I need a revelation. And Luke does, too. It needs to be utterly mutual.

I am longing for Him. I don't even know who I am, but I'm longing for Him. I can't pull anyone else with me. I just want Him. This is hard. Yeah. Get over it. I have to make hard decisions for Him, I have to fight my flesh for Him, I have to repent for Him, and I have to speak up for Him. It can't be a ho-hum life; there just isn't time, simply put. Life is, as has been recently proven, too short. I realize, to some small extent, maybe as much as I can, that this may come at the cost of being completely alone.

Father, at least You will not forsake me.

New (Year/Semester/Etc.)

This semester will be different. I want it to be different and I'm ready for change. I think I like change. Actually, I hate change, but it is a vital and necessary part of life— therefore, I embrace it. In order to doing a little planning and maybe goal-setting, I'm going to list out everything that I want to be different this semester in comparison to last semester.

1. Attitude. Attitude, attitude, and oh, yeah, attitude. I need to be positive.

2. My relationship with God.

3. Reading my Bible... not for school, but for growth.

4. Regularly attending Grace Church.

5. Focusing on my school work and caring about my grades.

6. Exercising patience.

7. Committing to my health (thanks, mandatory PE class!).

8. Cutting back on the caffeine.

9. Making time for solid Christian relationships/making new friends.

10. Plugging into a Bible study and not hopping around.

11. Personal discipline. I currently have none.

12. Outreach.

13. Luke and I's relationship/communication issues.

14. Taking all thoughts captive! Especially around the roomies.

15. Confidence. Confinement. Dealing.

I think I'd better write these down and tack them to my bulletin board, so that they stare me in the face every day and I can remember them. I really want things to be different, and I know without a doubt that, by myself, I could never ever do any of them. I could never make positive habits or improve my relationship with my Father if I don't have his help. Without him, I truly can't do anything. I am powerless and hopeless. My flesh doesn't want to change and my heart is evil and deceptive. But with Him... oh, with Him all things are possible. If only we could believe that wholly... if only I could believe that wholly! Through Christ, all things are possible.

I am a daughter of the King.