the God of maps

One small woman. Alone. At dusk. Standing on the edge of a seething traffic surge of jeepnees, motorcycles, buses, taxis, cars, trucks, and various chickens. It’s deafening loud. A swirl of foreign smells whips her damp hair. In her hand is a cellphone blinking ‘low-batt.’ She’s the only white person in sight. Glowing like a tiny beacon against the gathering dark.

She’s lost. Standing on one of the largest traffic patterns in Metro Manila, she’s lost, and alone, and her phone is dying, and every pore is sweating, and her heart is pounding, and her mind is forgetting every wisp of Filipino she may have thought she knew. And it’s getting darker. No one in the great wide world knows where she is at that moment. No one but the ones perched suspiciously along the sidewalk crunching beneath her feet.

Her phone dies.

To keep walking the circumference of the great Quezon Circle is her only option. Correction: she must keep walking forward along the Circle. For a backtrack to where her jeepnee dumped her out would be like greeting the growing number of sidewalk-perchers with a loud, “hey there, I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going, but I’m small, and young, and foreign and carrying a purse...”

In Quezon City, Manila all major road arteries dump into “The Circle.” It’s like a huge wheel hub (miles in circumference?) with spokes. You squint your eyes (to dim your peripheral vision lest you lose your nerve) and honk your horn on repeat to merge onto the Circle. You exit the same. A veritable “traffic tango” of epic proportions plays out in between.

She’s walking the edge of that. Hoping for a familiar landmark to appear. Hoping to reach the next road spoke on the wheel. And as she walks she prays. God, you are right here with me, right now. Thank you. You are sovereign, and have promised to care for me. I’m asking for wisdom to know what to do next, and protection, and a safe return home.

A bright yellow taxi cab screeches to a halt beside her. She dives inside. He has a kind, concerned face. Listens to her stumbling, vague directions quietly. To this day she is sure he took the fastest route and charged her an honest fee.

She hadn’t considered that angels could be Filipino before.

She walked (a bit shaky) into her church’s Wednesday night prayer meeting less than 30min. later. Sat down on the solid wood pew while the service began in front of her. And like a tsunami, the weight of that evening came crashing down around her. Crushing her with what did, what could have, and what didn’t.

And as those around her begin to sing, she prays in frustration and defeat. God, if I just had a map. I’m so visual. If I could just see the landmarks along the Circle. If I could know the road spoke names and their order…Hot tears form.

She grabs her hymnal and a folded, half sheet of paper flutters down. Mindlessly, she stoops to pick it up and unfolds it.

A map. Of the Circle. With all the spoke names. With major landmarks. Uncluttered. In clear, bold print.

………………………………………

Years pass. She’s still often alone. Still wonders where to go and what to do in life sometimes. There are dark days. There are anxious prayers. She gets confused, and forges off the path laid out for her. She’s overwhelmed with what has and what hasn’t, and what might in her life.

But she carries deep within her heart a sparkling truth undimmed by time.

Her God is the God of maps.

Beth

a fledgling writer writes on writing

It’s God’s opening act. We find it in the very first verse of the first book in our Bibles. As if He can’t wait to get to it. In the very beginning, God created. And, as human beings, we’re the only part of His creation made in His likeness. In the image of God created He him…as the King James so puts it.

This is important.

Because part of bearing His image is that we also create.  We create with words, and our own hands, and thoughts, and ideas. We create with solutions, and music, and technology, and medicine, and art, and food…We create because we are patterned after the Creator. All of us.

Now look closer and you’ll find a clear-defined difference between God and the world He has made in Genesis. He forms it, and makes it function. He tells His creation to and not to. He rules over it and controls it. He determines its boundaries, and He sits outside them.

It’s still the same today. Whether man chooses to accept it or not, in Him and by Him and for Him were all things made. We have our being—our identity, in Our Creator, and this world only makes sense when we accept His interpretation of it. When we find ourselves in Him.  It’s always that way with created things. To think the opposite is ridiculous. God finding His identity in us? Of course not. He made us.  

I promise you this has to do with writing. I promise.

You see, we easily forget, as mini-creators, what we make is not our identity.

Bingo.

So what’s it look like to find my identity in what I create?

 1.  It looks like me hating to have anyone touch my writing. The word edit is bad enough. The word editor? Nightmarish. Hives. Hyperventilation. Nervous twitch. Heartburn. Flutterings.

     2.  It looks like a deep groan, or lashing words when someone changes what I’ve created. Like mourning the loss of something I birthed. (not to be dramatic or anything)

     3.  It looks like inflated sense of worth when someone compliments my work, and a fast, deflated depression when someone criticizes it.

     4. It looks like avoiding collaborative writing opportunities like the plague. Not that I’ve ever caught myself thinking, I will NEVER write another VBS Bible curriculum or Christmas Program… But by it’s very nature, ministry is collaborative—an expression of the body of Christ and it’s various members. And that’s gonna rough if you find you in your work and watch it altered into an us. 

    5. It looks like avoiding growth and change in what I make even if it would be for the better.

    6. It looks like only inclining my ear towards those who flatter what I’ve made.

…………………………………..

We create. Because we’re made in the image of God, the great Creator. But we must also ‘sit outside the boundaries’ of what we make. It’s important because our true identity is found in our God. And in Christ, we are valued at much greater than the sparrows and lilies. A worth down to the very number of our strands of hair, and measured in the precious, shed blood of the Lamb of God.

So I write. Infant words. But they will grow and mature as I continue to create. And I do not have to fear this. I don’t have to shun those things and people who will come alongside me, and help me better on the way. Because my Creator is my identity. I am in Him and for Him. Nothing can mar the stamp of that image. And our work may well glorify Him as it reflects Him.

For from the very beginning, God created.

Beth

the single and the no

It all started with me complaining (I’ll wait while you pick yourself off the floor) to my Pastor’s wife (a cardinal sin for sure) at prayer meeting (well this is off to a good start…).

A single has no one to tell them ‘no.’ And ‘caring for the things of the Lord’ is so broad in it’s scope. Much harder to discern than ‘caring for the things of her husband…’ We bear the full weight of discerning whether the opportunities constantly being presented to us are truly God’s will or not. There’s no one sitting next to us saying, “honey, you can’t take that on right now.” And when we do say no, people wonder what we are doing with all our single freedoms and resources…

My Pastor’s wife doesn’t pull any punches, folks. She spoke truth. And although it was much more gracious than this, it sounded a lot like, ‘you don’t need someone else to discern God’s will, and you can and must discern God’s will as a single.’

Bah humbug.

I didn’t want to hear that.

And then a couple weeks ago, something fantastical happened. People I’ve prayed would seek me out, did. New ministries were presented. I found myself in homes I’d never been in…I booked and double, and triple booked every evening of the week for two weeks. This, on top of a fulltime job, music rehearsals, writing, lesson prep, eating, sleeping, cooking, cleaning etc. Things just blew up in these here parts. And I thought perhaps I’d gone to Heaven and didn’t realize it. I was even taking phone calls in the bathtub, y’all.  In short, it was awesome. I mean that.

But it unraveled fast. I found myself exhausted, frustrated, anxious, numb, my autoimmune flared up…and for the first time in a long time, I found myself cringing as I read the Word.

"Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."  Matt.11

Well, that’s not my reality. I am labored and weighted down by all these good things. There’s nothing easy and light about this. Ministry is hard. It’s too much. Rest? Hah.

It’s true. My life had become too heavy. Because I was trying to carry a yoke of my own making.  Matthew says God creates a perfectly fitted yoke to our individual abilities and strength, so that it may be borne well with His enabling (think easy and light.) And underneath His yoke, there is always enough rest. That’s the whole reason for this passage! My Heavenly Father is concerned for me. He knows my frame. He carefully considers what I am made of.  And He will not even throw out a bruised reed, or extinguish a smoking flax. My God is bent on gentleness. He does not smash His children under heavy things.

…………………….

So singles must grow skilled at discerning God’s yoke, and well-practiced in the art of saying ‘wait while I discern’ and ‘no.’ This is necessary. Not because we lack a spouse to guide us. Not because others constantly hurl opportunities our way. Not because we don’t absolutely love filling our lives with people...

I must learn because my God cares for me. Little Beth. With her large passion and humungous ideas. And her little strength, and small skills in her small hand. He is concerned that I be able to bear the pressure and responsibility of all that my heart wants to do for Him. Single friend? Look a little deeper and you’ll find worth, and value, and a rich, satisfying Divine love in this passage.

And you’ll find a why for when you must say no.

Beth