Singing We Are Yours

If I had to come up with one sentence describing my growth since I got saved it would be this:

Constant reminders that I am not my own; that I belong to the King, who died to save me.

There have been a hundred lessons learned, a million miles traveled, since that day. In the end it all comes back to this fact, though. That I am called His. I was bought at a price, I am no longer a slave to my flesh or this world, but that I am seen in His love and by the cross alone. Finding my identity in Jesus is something that my heart has to come back to daily.

How many times does the Bible describe this? Too many to count. Everytime it describes us as believers it is proclaiming an identity that only comes through Christ. Understanding that we belong to Him is the only way to the freedom. Jesus is "the way, the truth, and the life" and if we are not called His then we cannot walk that path. 

What a priviledge to be called His! This is not a demeening word. To be called someone's, in love, is pure affection. Saying you are my child or my friend or my husband describes a relationship that is intimate. To be called His frees us from trying to climb to heaven on our own. It provides us with a foundation, a fortress, and a friend. 

I am His.

This one sentence holds more weight than any other sentence in the world. In saying this you are also assured of a thousand other things. I am His means:

I am loved. I am seen. I am heard, accepted, vidicated. I am free, joyful, peaceful, and brave. I am okay, blessed, understood, walked with. I am held, holy, heaven's citizen, a friend. I am redeemed, saved, and alive. I am gifted, reconciled, rescued, found. I am a bride, renewed, beautiful, forgiven. I am adopted, light, an heir, wonderfully made, and clean. I am healed, important, a temple, worthy. I am remade.

And beyond.

The world and everything in it is trying to steal my identity. Daily I have to fight off the urge to call myself by other names. Even good things, like a friend or camp counselor, do not define who I am. These things will disappoint, they will disengrate. But Jesus will not. 

Tenth Avenue North says it best:

And through the dark

Singing we are yours

Your love will lead us through

Like stars in the night

You are His. A truth that counters every lie. An understanding that can change your life. An identity that does not hold you back, but sets you free. Three words that mean a salvation we cannot fathom. A joy defined by only the cross, and spurred by a love bigger than the ocean. A constant foundation for who you are and where you can run.

I am His.

You are His

We are His.

I Love College (I Think)

Two weekends ago I went to Hidden Acres on the J-life retreat (left photo) and this past weekend I drove to Missouri to staff Barnabreak at Camp Barnabas (right photo). In both instances it felt like going home. It felt like reuniting with family, like walking around places I grew up in. It was easy. It was good. It was joyful.

But the place I spend most of my time these days, my dorm, my classes, this campus, has yet to feel that way. It still feels like a place I will leave soon. I'm unattached and still a little bit out of place. I still feel uncomfortable, as if I'm reaching desperately to try and find a stable place, but getting nowhere. 

"How's college?" "Do you like it?"

I've been asked these two questions about a hundred times this semester and it's always the same answer. 

"It's great! I love it!"

Every single time I answer the same way. Except I'm not sure if I'm answering truthfully or not. 

I do love it. I love parts of it. I love that I'm closer to my dream every day. I love my church and my ministry. I love the independence of it all. I love that I can be anonymous. I love that it's not at home. I love that I can essentially do whatever I want whenever I want.

But it isn't home.

It isn't always comfortable, it isn't always easy. It's taken patience and forced joy and I've had my fair share of bathroom crying sessions. It's been lonely and confusing. It's been overwhelming and exhausting and more often than not I'm unsure and pretty scared.

Of course nothing is meant to be perfect all of the time, and that's a pretty obvious truth that I have to remind myself of often. Life, relationships, building a community, finding a place. These are things that take time and patience and effort and understanding. 

College has reiterated everything I learned this summer over and over again. I cannot imagine my transition with Barnabas, because of just how much it's impacted my life here. Lessons I learned there are directly applicable and people I met there have been my rocks in the hard moments.

This weekend after answering those questions the same way to just about everyone on staff I really stopped and thought about what I was saying. I was so quick to point out and only pay attention to the things about Iowa that I do love.

I have yet to tell anyone "Sometimes it's really hard, but I also see so much good in it."

Which would be the most truthful answer.

In the end it's only November and it's only my freshman year. I have a long ways to go and I can see glimpses of the joy and plans God has for me here. I feel and understand that He is present here and has provided for me beyond anything I deserve. I know He will continue to be faithful. I see relationships being grounded. I'm finding my way and I have so much time.

My first night as a Hidden Acres camper I layed in my bed and cried because I was so terrified.

When I left Barnabas for graduation I bawled the first two hours of the drive because I hated it.

But now when I turn onto that gravel road or drive through that gate it feels like home. Now I can look back on the bad moments and counter them with good. I can feel how these places and the people in them have built a part of me. I can remember wonderful moments. I love it there.

They are home now, but they weren't always.

And so some days I love college and some days I hate it, but every day I know that it'll grow and develop and someday taking that exit into Iowa City will feel like going home and when that day comes it'll be good. But until then I am not alone. I am not abandoned. And above all I am not unloved or forgotten.