Lindsey Rhea- My Corner of the World

 

50 Men Crazy, then 50 Men Dead

I was watching a documentary the other day (I know, cool, right?) about Jamestown, one of America’s first colonies. You know, the one with John Smith and Pocahontas? I’m no history buff. In fact, in high school my AP European History teacher told me I was bad at remembering history. It was true. But, this documentary had a theory that because of a severe drought, the river that the colonists depended on became mixed with the ocean water. Many developed salt-water poisoning- a condition makes you go crazy with hallucinations, slowly and painfully shuts all your organs down, and kills you. They kept drinking the water, never satisfied, never realizing that it eventually would kill half the colony. 50 men crazy, then 50 men dead.

This last week has been like that for me. Okay, no death around here. But I feel like I am going crazy most days. To set the scene (just a disclaimer: I love my family and respect my husband immensely!): I have a “just turned three” year old girl who is also a tantrum thrower (h.o.l.y. c.o.w), a 1 ½ year old boy, a husband that is an MTL on campus by himself and gets unmotivated quickly, I’m leading a morning bible study with 8 girls, my house is always messy, and to top it off, my master bedroom isn’t the peaceful place it “should” be (read that in a book yesterday). Guilt. My husband has been discouraged because the weekly meeting numbers have been down, and we are thinking about taking a risk next semester and doing something totally different. And that is scary. Our marriage that is usually so life-giving to me has drained so much of my emotional capacity. Bubble baths don’t even help (now that is crazy, you know!?)

So, I want share my journal entry with you. I think most of us can relate in some way. I don’t know how long it had been since I had journaled… oh wait. June 12. Yikes. The performance sinner inside me wants to yell “JUST BECAUSE I DIDN’T JOURNAL DOESN’T MEAN I DIDN’T READ MY BIBLE OR PRAY, SO DON’T JUDGE ME SO QUICKLY!” Yeah, that is me smeared in sin. Okay, here goes…

“Dear Lord, I’m having a hard day. I feel on edge, short tempered, and angry. Show me what is going on in my heart. I can’t pinpoint a reason for this. What am I looking for right now? What am I not getting that I feel like I should? Anxiety is swallowing me, it feels. I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Am I living this life in a self-righteous way? Show me the root of this anxiety! Disbelief? Distrust? Despair? Emptiness? What is the opposite of despair? Hope? What is hope, really? What am I hoping for? What lie do I believe that if I could only achieve this, or have this, or be this, then I would be happy? Is it a break from my kids? Jeff? Responsibility? Housework?

Lord, forgive me for this! Forgive me for my idolatry. Forgive me for not being thankful, for my anger, for my self-reliance. Forgive me for trusting in myself. Forgive me for yelling at Faith. Forgive me for the pride of “controlling” my anger in the car. Help me! Teach me the gospel again. Show me how to live it- to live as though I am righteous in your eyes, but at the same time remembering that all the credit goes to Christ. Forgive me for not remembering Christ. Teach me to follow you better- as a mom, as a wife, as a homemaker, as a staff. I want to be steadfast. I crave it. Thank you for forgiving me and redeeming me. Love, Lindsey”

I’m trying to identify the salt-water in my life. When I feel like I’m going crazy, or slowly dying (okay, soooo overdramatic), I need to ask myself- “What is this idol that has such tight control over me that I can’t function anymore without it?” Preach to myself: Jesus gives life. Christ is living water. Anything other than Christ is deadly poison.

So I tell you this: Don’t be crazy. Don’t be dead. Don’t drink salt water.

~Lindsey Rhea
Cru Staff serving at ECU

Women’s Getaway- An Intern’s Perspective

I am not one for spending an extended time talking about my feelings, wearing a bathing suit in February, massages, or even resting. But last year, I went to the MidSouth Women’s Getaway anyway. Honestly, if a few ladies on my staff team were not going and had not convinced me that it would be a nice break from the busyness of life, I would have never experienced all the Lord had in store for me during those few days.

When it came time to register for the Getaway, my answer was no thanks. I could not help but thinking about how I was an Intern, wouldn’t know anyone there, and going away for a few days with women was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn’t really think twice about my decision. After staff meeting one day, a few women on my team told me I should consider going, I dismissed the idea once again and left dismissing their suggestion completely. That afternoon it was all I could think about. It was so strange to me that I could not get the idea out of my head. So after much thought and going back and forth, I registered and wrote it in on my calendar.

Once there, all of my fears about going came back. Sitting in the first meeting I realized that there were familiar faces in the room. Women I had met at Encounter, fellow Interns who I spent a week in Tennessee with, and the other random “I know you from somewhere but can’t remember exactly” women which removed my apprehension about not knowing anyone. The whole fear of spending time with women and talking about my feelings wasn’t even an issue during those days. Each session was so well designed to where I did not feel uncomfortable talking about my sin and struggles at all. I actually enjoyed it!

 

 

Those few days ended up being one of my favorite retreats as an Intern. I think it was a culmination of getting to know women you could talk about ministry with, learning from women on how God has been working in the hard times of life, and getting to spend time with the Lord one afternoon reflecting on the past year made me not regret my decision at all. While sitting in a rocking chair looking out at the mountains, God really showed me that my apprehensions were really just me being afraid to step out in faith and do something that was uncomfortable. I was reminded of how important rest truly is, and how God wants us to take refuge in Him. I remember leaving Asheville refreshed, renewed and excited to return to campus.

So if you are like me, not sure if you should go or not, my advice would be to do it! Sign up for a restful time with other women who are doing life in ministry just like you, where you can get away from home and experience the Lord through rest and relaxation. You never know, you may just get a few good laughs out of it too!

~Hannah Spragins
Cru Staff serving on the NC State Team

Fear?

There was a break-in recently at the house three doors down from me. The intruder fled when he realized the elderly woman was actually at home. This situation has created quite a “stir” in my quiet neighborhood! It seems that each person’s perspective of this break-in relates to their view of fear.

What are your fears? Do your fears pertain more to what MAY happen or what IS happening? I am grateful for God’s word which reminds me where my thoughts need to be when I am fearful – on Him.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear . . . Psalm 46:1-2a

The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. Psalm 18:2

Why don’t you take a few minutes and identify your fears? Then ask God to give you assurance of His presence in each situation. Join me in trying to keep your eyes on the Lord and not on your fears. Let’s adopt the extreme sports motto “NO FEAR”!

~Mary Wallace Wilson
Cru Staff serving on the MidSouth Regional Team

Jenna Sherard- My Corner of the World

God is Bigger

They say that one sure way to know you’re a writer is if you’re always thinking some extraordinary thing is happening to you. As if you are the special one who gets to walk through life starting stories with, “You will not believe what happened to me this week… or yesterday…. or ten minutes ago.” This describes 90% of my conversations, and I think what this really means is that God has designed me with an inner drive to be a storyteller. You would think this would really benefit my two-year-old daughter Celia, but she usually gets some version of Little Pink Celia hood and the Big Good Wolf and that’s about as inspired as it gets.

The reality is that these days my life is filled with things that are quite ordinary like laundry and dishes and checking email to make sure I’m just minimally behind (not woefully late) in responding to people. And honestly, most days I search for the words to write something beautifully crafted. I started a novel once in college. Never finished and don’t know if I will. The thing is my characters can never live out what I once imagined them to become. Why? It’s because I’m different. I’m (semi if not firmly) rooted in reality now, and I don’t grieve the college girl who created an imaginary family and world for them to live in on the pages of a long abandoned manuscript. The thing is, I long to know the Creator more than I want to be creative. I know God can show me how those things are so intricately related, but for now I think He just wants me to be still. To rest in the truth of how small I am in light of the big story He is weaving together.

This doesn’t mean that I’ve stifled my story telling nature all together. I do, in fact, put a really intense spin on the events of our day when I give my husband Bobby the recap at supper each night. From what he is told, Celia is the fastest toddler to ever go flailing across Chick-fil-a at the most crowded lunch hour in history, while literal swarms of people stare with gaping mouths as her hugely pregnant mom bounds after her trying not to yell about getting Mr. Spanky (the spanking spoon) out of the diaper bag at any moment if she doesn’t stop (true story). And the little burn on my index finger turns into a second-degree scald as I recount how hot that plate of potatoes was as I retrieved it from the microwave. And the conversation with my kindred spirit best friend is relayed with as many interventions from the Holy Spirit as Jonah himself would have experienced in the belly of the great fish.

If I’m being really honest, the imaginary tea parties each day with Celia are actually pretty magical. (Her pretend cinnamon rolls are the best ever.) And God really can take mundane chores and give me great joy and purpose in them (cue Ann Voskamp blog music please), but it doesn’t look as noble as I once thought it would be. I don’t know where you are in your life these days. My guess is that you’re not living in some kind of creative state of bliss. (Maybe you are and if so, congrats and have one of Celia’s cinnamon rolls to celebrate.) But regardless of where you are it’s my prayer that you’ll be still in your reality and let God be better than your imagination. He has good stored up for us and he is a God who is “merciful, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” (Ps. 86:15). He is merciful when I don’t finish what I start. He is gracious when I seek to know Him better (and on days when I don’t). He is steadfast and faithful beyond anything my small mind could dream up and it makes me love him and worship with more vulnerability than I ever dreamed possible. Imagine that!!