I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Lately, I have been reading Psalm 139 over and over. Day after day. Almost every morning, still lying in bed, groggy and eyes only half opened, I turn to reach for my iPhone and open the Bible app. Yes, that's right, I read the Bible on my iPhone...and I open up to Psalm 139.

As a relatively new Christian, I still have yet to read the Bible in its entirety. I read bits and pieces at a time, chapter by chapter, focusing on what I think I need to hear and be reminded of that day. Usually trying to let God lead me to the right place at the right time. Recently, though, I've been working my way through Psalms. Mostly because I had finished the New Testament, and then when trying to get through the Old Testament, I realized I needed to rekindle my spark for reading the Bible. I got bored...even a little exhausted...trying to get through the Old Testament, deciphering complicated terminology and reading through long histories of lineage. Yes, I am fully admitting...I got bored, exhausted, and a bit overwhelmed with parts of the Bible. We are human after all, and this sort of thing happens. Plus, I am a 21-year-old college student with a very short attention span. And after reading the New Testament, full of exciting stories about Jesus and the new Church (which I couldn't pry away from by the way), the Old Testament was a bit dry for me. So...I decided to break up the bits and pieces with things I felt easier to relate to.

So, I had been reading through the Psalms for a bit. But I hadn't gotten as far as Psalm 139 yet. I was first introduced to this Psalm when I was visiting friends in Nashville over winter break, and I accompanied my good friend Morgan to Forward Church. That Sunday, the sermon was about Psalm 139. And it was exactly what my soul needed to hear. Funny how that always seems to happen on Sunday!

There are so many reasons why I love this Psalm. And to write about them all and thoroughly dissect all the bits and pieces would take both a lengthy amount of time and a background in theology. So, I'm just going to share some of the parts that have been ruminating in my brain and really speaking to me lately.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.

God KNOWS me. He sees me. He gets me. He completely knows the depths of my heart and mind. He knows my desires and faults. My imperfections and my longings. My past and my future. My every move and my every thought. Unlike anyone else in my life, anyone else I will ever be in relationship with...God knows me. How valuable is that? How miraculous to be known. Isn't that our deepest longing as human beings? To be seen, known, and loved for all that we are and all that we are not? We get rejected, misunderstood, and judged by so many on this earth. So often, we can't seem to get the ones we really love and care for to see us and to deeply know us. But with Jesus, we don't have to explain ourselves. Convince Him to see the real person we are. The soul living within us. Because, He wholly and completely knows us. As children of God, we are and will always be...known. What more could we even ask for?

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

As if being known by our Father is not enough...we cannot escape His presence. That's right, regardless of where we are and what we do...He is always there. Walking with us. Holding our hand. In sin and in righteousness. In the highest of the highs and lowest of the lows. Reading this again this morning, for the millionth time...well maybe the twentieth time...I got this in a whole new way. I constantly ask God to come into my life. To make His presence known. To surround me and be with me, when I feel like He is just so distant from me and my life.

Lately, I've been consumed by the chaos of life. Overwhelmed by my crazy packed schedule of class, homework, and work. Struggling to find chunks of time for reading, writing, and prayer with God. Thinking to myself, I'm just going to have to be distant from God this semester. There's just not the time I need to truly connect with Him and rest in His presence. And it's a battle I've been miserable fighting lately. It's just so frustrating to feel like you have to schedule time to be with God. So counter-intuitive. And in the process, I haven't felt His presence. I haven't heard His voice. I have felt totally disconnected and alone.

So, when I read this part of Psalm 139 this morning, it finally hit me...I cannot flee from His presence. I cannot escape His spirit. He is, and will always be, there with me. It might be harder to detect, because of the busy life I am living. It's always easier to hear something in the silence. To feel something the stillness. But sometimes, life does not allow you to have silence and stillness. There are seasons when that is just not an option...but that does not mean that God leaves you, because you aren't providing him with the time or space He needs to fill. No...in the noise and the nonstop warp-speed movement of your chaotic life, God's presence surrounds you. And his spirit fills you. You only have to pause and acknowledge Him in your life.

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

It is so easy to feel as though you are in the deepest depths of darkness. There are so many times where the human experience leaves us feeling lost and alone. It can be suffering from diagnosable depression, or simply dealing with the darkness of loss, death, and destruction in any part of your life. We all go through seasons of darkness. And many times it feels like the darkness is never-ending, like we will never survive and overcome such pain and suffering. That we are too deep in to be reachable for God. That all hope of rescue and resurrection is utterly lost.

But the darkness is not dark for Jesus. Because he is the light. And he shines in the midst of darkness making it as light. And because we cannot escape His spirit or flee from His presence, He shines his light upon us whenever we are in darkness. He walks with us, side by side, step by step, holding our hand, turning the darkness into light. When we are wrapped in His arms and surrounded by His presence, we cannot be in the dark. We are protected by His light, even when it feels like we are lost and alone in the deepest pit of darkness.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; and your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

That's right, we were created by the Creator of the Universe. The same guy who made the stars in the sky, made each and every one of us. How crazy is that? Not only did He create us, but he created us fearfully and wonderfully. And we know His works are wonderful, because we see them everyday. The colorful sunsets, the miraculous mountains, the brilliant sun, and the mesmerizing turning ocean waves. With utter purpose, we were created by God. Fearfully and wonderfully made. He knit us together in our mother's womb, every detail for a specific purpose. Our passions. Our spirit. Our thoughts and dreams. Our talents and skills. He shaped our hearts and formed our minds to live the life He created us to live. Even our imperfections are perfect in His eyes, included in our creation for some specific reason.

Sometimes, I look at my life and wonder if I'm doing it right. As if there is some proper way of living. I look at my choices and desires, and I wonder, why are they so different from most of the people I know? Am I screwing this up? Am I missing something I was supposed to learn along the way about how to do life? Sometimes I question my deepest longings simply because they don't seem to be popular among people...college students...Americans. But knowing that I am fearfully and wonderfully made helps me to ignore the norm. Disregard the majority. Accept my rebellion from the usual as beautiful. Purposeful. Wonderful. I can be confident in my thoughts, beliefs, passions, and desires, because they were placed in my heart and mind by the Creator of the Universe when He created me. I am...we are...fearfully and wonderfully made. Which makes every imperfection, every atypical aspect of our being...utterly perfect.

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

This has become my new prayer. If there is ever anything to pray about, anything I need from God...this is it. When I don't know where to even begin in prayer, this is now where I start. When I feel like I don't have time to pray, this is the little bit I do turn to God and say in a brief moment. My deepest longing these days is to be searched thoroughly by God. For Him to see every part of me. To test me. For Him to discover anything in me that offends Him. That is not in sync with who He is. That doesn't show the world who He is and how He loves. I pray to be searched, known, and tested. To be shown what is of the world and not of Him. So that I can change it. And go back to the pure way that I was fearfully and wonderfully made in His image. I pray that if there is anything in me that He needs to dig up and drag to the surface, that He does. That He shines His light on it. So that I can see it...and deal with it.

I could go on and on about all that Psalm 139 has been teaching me lately. It's been weighing heavy on my heart and repeating in my head. These words say so much about what it means to be created by God, known by God, and surrounded by His presence. I am still learning so much about what it looks like to be a child of God. To know and be in relationship with this guy who created me, and loves me, and walks with me daily. There's still so much mystery...and there always will be, because that's just part of His miraculousness. But Psalm 139 has been doing a pretty good job of teaching me lately. It speaks to me. And constantly reminds me of the depths of this crazy beautiful new relationship I have with God. And for that, I am so grateful.

I am a Runner.

I am a runner.

Not a physical runner, who loves to sprint down my neighborhood streets every morning for a good workout. I enjoy exercise. But running has never been my thing. And I hardly have the time or the motivation for it. But when I do, slogging is more my style...slow jogging, that is. And even then, I prefer a good yoga session.

No, I am not an athlete.

But, I am a runner.

I run from all sorts of things. For a variety of reasons. But I have finally come to the conclusion, that I am a pretty decent...predictable...fast...runner.

I run from romance.

I run from real, scary, stare you down in the face, committed relationships. I'll be dating someone I truly feel a connection to, have grown to feel strongly about, and can totally see myself with in the future. I'll be giddy about the newness and excitement of it all. I'll love how we have so much in common. Yet we also complement each other so well. I'll be utterly consumed with how great of a match they are for me. How they get me. See me. Attempt to know me and my heart. Accept me for who I am. Appreciate my flaws and imperfections. Obviously this is not all guys, as I have dated plenty of the wrong ones. Trust me. But it does happen. Great guys like this come around, too. And it's great...

Until...shit gets real. The relationship suddenly becomes something serious. It happens so quickly it appears to have completely transformed overnight. We aren't just dating. We're about to be in a committed relationship with each other. Or we already have been, and I am just now realizing it. We are thinking long-term. Nearly becoming a "we" instead of a "he" and a "me."

And I feel...attached. And I know...that the stakes just went sky high. My heart is now on the line. About to be in his hands. His hands. Hands hat could very easily drop it. Break it. Smash it to pieces.

Hurt is now possible. Damage perceivable. Brokenness imaginable. Pain maybe even inevitable.

And immediately...I bail.

I find some excuse that makes sense. Validates my reasoning for leaving the relationship. Justifies quitting something that might really be worth it. Something that I might really be worthy of. Something that could have taught me. Shaped me. Grown me. Into something stronger. Braver. Wiser.

But I don't stay around to find out.

I run.

Out of fear.

Because I have been hurt in the past. Deeply wounded. Darkly bruised. Broken by those I trusted my heart with.

And because of those bad experiences...

I let fear run me.

And I run away.

And because I've been hurt so badly, I have come to build up a very large wall around my heart. In attempt to protect myself from future damage. To avoid disappointment. To keep myself safe from the unpredictable and dangerous hands of others who might come close. Not just in the context of dating relationships.

I run from relationships with friends and family.

I have come to a place where I am only able to let close friends and family in. And after enough time and building enough trust...I allow them to knock down that wall of stone I work so hard to keep up. And then I let them in. Value them. Cherish them. Keep them close. Go to them for everything. Trust them with all that I have. They are my everything. My community. My support system. My cheerleaders. My rock.

Until...they hurt me.

And then...as usual...I run.

It doesn't take much. That wall I let them tear down builds itself back up more quickly than you could ever imagine. It's almost instantaneous. As quickly as they hurt me, I turn away and run full speed in the other direction. I cut them off. Abandon them completely. Leave hardly any room for them to even approach me with an apology. It's as if my heart has been trained in brokenness. And the minute it distinguishes a glimpse of hurt...it sets off an alarm to alert my body, locks the door, and doesn't let anyone in.

This time, I'm not running because I'm afraid.

I'm running as an act of defense.

I'm fighting back. Putting my foot down.

Telling the world, I am worth more, and you will not hurt me.

One simple hurtful act. I don't stick around to see if it was intentional or accidental. To hear their side of the story. To listen to their deep apology and love for me.

Instead...I run away.

I run from the present.

I have never been able to settle. And by settle, I don't mean accept less than I deserve. Or stay put when I know I could be somewhere better doing something I love more. Not the negative sense of the word. But the positive type of settling.

I've never been able to sit still. Be content where I am. Enjoy the present. Take advantage of my life in its current state.

Instead, I've always been both a dreamer and a planner. I dream about what I can do. Where I can go. Who I can meet. The changes I can make. I dream. But I do more than just dream. I plan. I see those places and things and people, and I start planning it all out. How it's going to happen. When I'll get there. What I'll do when I arrive.

Dreaming is great. I wrote a blog post last year about the importance of dreams and how much I value my "dreamer" quality. And planning is good, because it means you are prepared.

But both of these and a lack of the ability to settle are a deadly combination.

Because, I simply dream about and plan my future. I get excited about the next step in life. The next chapter of my journey. I get so caught up in what's right around the corner, that I fail to appreciate and fully embrace the present.

I don't just dream about and plan my future.

Instead...

I run from the present.

And in doing so, I miss out on so much that isn't far down the road or all the way around the corner. It's right in front of me. It's already surrounding me.

I'm sure there are other areas of my life that I run from, as well, considering I am such a great runner. But these are the three big ones I've learned to notice.

I run from romance.

I run from relationships.

And I run from the present.

Being afraid is understandable. Commitment is terrifying. Trusting your heart in another human being's hand's is utterly petrifying. Fear is healthy and natural in such a situation. But being afraid of getting hurt is not a legitimate reason to run away from every dating relationship I encounter.

Being defensive is understandable. After being hurt by those close to you, it's okay to keep your guard up. To be careful. To only let those in who you really trust. And to defend yourself when you get hurt. To stand up for yourself when you've been lied to or manipulated. It's a natural safety mechanism of the heart. But defending yourself after being hurt is not a legitimate reason to run away from every meaningful friend and family member who hurts you.

Dreaming about and planning your future is understandable. Being excited about the next chapter of life is totally acceptable. It's only natural to look forward to the adventures that are around the corner. It's normal to think of what you're life will be like in the future. And it's healthy to be enthusiastic about that future. But dreaming about and planning your future is not a legitimate reason to run away from the incredible present you are already living in.

Every new year, I try to come up with a list of resolutions. I wrote a few simple and cliché goals for 2012 on a post-it note earlier this month. They will be useful as I journey through 2012. But more than anything...

I resolve to NOT be a runner this year.

And hopefully for the rest of my life.

I resolve to not run away from romance, relationships, and the present.

And instead to look at all three as potentially beautiful and deserving of my time and effort.

I no longer want to be runner. It is a skill I have mastered in my 21 years of life. And I am ready to let it go this year. And equally ready to pick up a new skill...giving things I've given up on a second chance.

Romance that turns serious.

Relationships with friends and family who have hurt me.

And the present, so far away from all that I've dreamed of and planned for my future.

This year...I will not run away.

Instead...I will stick it out.

Give it a fair shot.

And trust that some big and beautiful things will come out of that.

The Beginning of the End...or the End of the Beginning?

Driving home from the mall today, I turned into my neighborhood and experienced the streets I've known my whole life in an entirely new way. I passed by my elementary school and saw my 5-year-old-self walking through those once gigantic doors for the first day of Kindergarten. The image of searching in the grass for ladybugs during recess then raced into my mind. Then I thought of the many basketball practices I had in that gym, the talent shows for which I sang and danced on that wooden stage in the cafeteria, and the many yellow school busses I loaded for field trips, including the big finale of those six years: the fifth grade class trip to Sky Ranch.

Turning into my cul-de-sac, I remembered the day my neighbor and mom taught me how to ride my pink, glittery bicycle around that circle. I watched myself knocking on doors to sell Girl Scout cookies year after year. Thought about the first time I attempted to back out of my complicated driveway after getting my driver's permit. So many memories flashed through my head related to that circle I've lived on since the day my parents brought me home from the hospital.

People always say that when you have a sudden traumatic experience, your life "flashes before your eyes." I've never gone through a traumatic instance that brought on such a feeling. But today, for the first time, I started to understand what people mean when they use that phrase. It was as if my childhood was recurring in my mind, while someone held down the fast forward button at the highest speed possible. I didn't see everything. That would be impossible. But big moments. Memorable events. Even small things that I had completely forgotten. They rolled through my brain at warped speed. Allowing me to glance back at how full my 21 years of life had been. It was as if for the first time in my life, I felt...old. Adult. Separated completely from those childhood years.

I began to think about how much has happened in these 21 years of life I've lived thus far. At first, I was simply in awe. Of all the incredible experiences I've had, so many of which I hadn't thought about in years. Of the many life-altering events I've already encountered in that short amount of time. Of the crazy ways that my life has evolved. Developed. Moved. Changed.

Anyone who has taken developmental psychology, knows that experts in the field have long argued about the various stages of the life span. Attempting to categorize and define each stage that human beings travel through between birth and death. Some even starting their theories at conception. And anyone who has ever lived a moment on planet earth has observed that in reality, those stages are blurry and unique to every individual.

Regardless, however, everyone knows that one aspect of the human experience...is growth.

As humans, we don't only age...we grow. We develop. Through various experiences, we figure out what works for us. Who we are. What we believe in. What makes us burn with passion. What brings us down into the darkest depths. What kinds of people we like to be around. What we're good at. What we should never try again and instead leave to others. What makes us feel purposeful. Happy. Alive. What we want to fight for. What we want to live for. And what kind of person we want to be.

Then I began to think about where I am right now. The big decisions that are standing in front of me. The large milestones I am about to cross. The very huge ways that my life is about to change.

I am only a few days away from beginning my last semester of my undergraduate education. In a very short five months and 8 days, I will graduate from college. One month after that, I am planning on moving to Nashville. Not just to begin a job. But to start a new life.

You see, at this age so many of us think that we are running out of time. Approaching the end of the best chapter of our lives: college. Where we find ourselves. Discover real friendships. Figure out what we want to do with this life we've been given. Realize our beliefs and values. Dream our dreams. Experience a new level of independence and freedom. With the added bonus of a safety net. Grow. Develop. Become a unique individual.

But this season we are in, is not the beginning of the end.

In reality...

it's the end 

of the beginning.

Those may sound like silly words. But they hold utter significance in the way we view this chapter and the other chapters in the book of our life.

I say this season is the end of the beginning, because while college students insist that we are independent adults doing real life...we are still only in the beginning of the huge life we have ahead of us. If you think of life as a book, it makes since for it to have a beginning, middle, and end. Or three volumes, if that's easier to grasp. In saying that, this chunk of our lives, while very significant and full of invaluable growth...is only still part of the beginning. But not just part of the beginning...the end of the beginning.

And what we are heading toward...at what seems like the speed of light...is the beginning of the middle. After college, that is when we start our real lives. Experience real independence. Form the important decisions. Try out different jobs and careers. Possibly go back to school to change fields. Or develop more of an expertise. Regardless of the way we go about it...the season we are heading toward, is the beginning of the major chunk, chapter, or volume of our lives. It's the time that instead of just dreaming, we realize our dreams. Instead of just learning in a classroom, we use what we've learned. To Act. Create. In the world. Instead of trying to figure out what we want to be when we grow up, we try on a job and see how it fits.

And if we think we've experienced growth now...we have no idea how much we can really be stretched. Pushed. Pulled. And Grown.

For those of us who are getting close to graduation, we are entering the beginning of the end...of only the first volume of our lives. College might have been the culminating chapter in that volume. But what we experience next...what we're preparing to jump into...will be the first chapter in that heavy second volume of our lives.

There are moments when we pause and realize our lives are changing.

          It's sometimes sad.

                    Usually terrifying.

                              And often exhilarating.

                                        But it's always...Beautiful.

Because change means Growth. Bittersweet, but always beautiful, growth.

          And only when we're growing, are we truly living.

                    A crazy, beautiful, complex, anything but stagnant life.

So stare change boldly in the face today. For the rest of this semester. For the rest of your life. Look at change with a little bit of fear and a lot of excitement..and always say nothing less than, "I'm ready for you and all that you hold." And when you do...don't forget to embrace it's pure and incomparable beauty.

Because change is...

           And always will be...

                    BEAUTIFUL.